ART IS DEAD !

I AM AN ARTIST   ( PLEASE ,  GOD ,  FORGIVE ME. )          I AM AN ARTIST   ( PLEASE ,  DON’T REVERE ME. )

#𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐘 :     ind.   multimuse blog.    dreamed by ray.

CARRD.               PROMO.               IN-CHARACTER.

other blogs :     john lawrence.     greg hirsch.

please read carrd before interaction.    low - activity.      beta editor.

sick to her stomach, she sits next to daniel on the couch. tomorrow, they can go back to fighting. tomorrow, she can go back to hating her dad, and daniel can go back to wondering where the hell he went wrong. today, though, she's his little girl, resting her head on his shoulder.

the tv plays across from them, the light of the screen dancing across daniel's features. when had her father gotten so old? had he always looked so exhausted? * he'd looked happier, for a while, when he'd reopened cobra kai. she remembers him bringing home miguel's trophy for safekeeping for the night ... remembers the way he looked almost empty, despite the win. she wonders if he's still mad at her ... wonders if he's still mad that she went to mr. lawrence, that she looked to him for guidance. wonders if he's still mad about the ' samantha lawrence ' stunt she pulled. did it feel like an attack? spite was powerful, she meant to hurt, but she didn't mean to be cruel.

her arm snakes under daniel's, curling around it, holding him close. she doesn't know what kind of trouble miguel and anthony got in. the fact that she doesn't see her brother lurking around gives her an idea : she can't remember anthony ever getting in trouble with daniel. not like her, anyway. he still looked at daniel with stars in his eyes, followed miguel around like a lost baby duckling.

she and robby had sat in mr. lawrence's living room, bundled up under a blanket, clueless serving more as background noise than a focus, while they giggled about their dads' date. they had expected mr. lawrence to come back home flustered at worst, beaming at best. ( john's crush on daniel was no secret : it was something robby had been teasing his father about for ages, sam guessed — something she'd been able to parse out real easily herself. ) but it had all been in good fun ... there was no way to anticipate the miserable look on his face when he walked in. ( I'M SO GLAD MY FEELINGS ARE A BIG FUCKIN' JOKE TO THE TWO OF YOU. ) maybe the first real time she's ever seen him angry. definitely the first time it was ever directed at her. she knows damn well she'll be spending weeks, if not months, years – if that's what it takes, trying to make it up to him.

she can't stop the laughter that spills from her lips, soft, light, free of the mockery she'd expect from johnny to the same statement. she understands, on a conceptual level, how it must've been rough for daniel, back when he and johnny were teenagers.

she tries not to imagine it ... the idea of coming out in the 80's, let alone, being as entrenched in the first karate war as they were. she can't imagine johnny would've been met with open arms and love from sensei kreese. maybe she's wrong, though — and she'd definitely like to be. but at the same time, she can't imagine mr. miyagi caring about her dad, or her grandmother, at that.

if anyone was going to have anything to say — and not necessarily bad! — she'd have to pin that on her mother ... the woman who built a life over the last twenty - or - so years with him, who raised a family with him. who, apparently until johnny came into his life, was the only person he'd been with, or cared for. ( finding out your husband of twenty - odd years is gay, is, well ... sam can't imagine it'd be easy news to take. )