clementine
“Wait, wait, wait, not too much,” Maria cautions, giving a small hiccup before continuing. “We still —” She hiccups again. “We still have to wake up early tomorrow… so let’s not —”
“Here we go!” Rai shouts, ignoring Maria’s warning and chugging back large gulps of vodka straight from the bottle. “Tekwuila, baby!” She giggles, dragging out the last word.
Jemmy knits his brows and squints at the bottle. “That’s vodka,”
“Kodva, baby!” Rai laughs to herself as though she’s just heard the most hilarious joke.
“Oh no, there’s a rumbly…” Taylor trails off, her eyes drooping before alarmingly widening once again. “What’s that called?”
“In your stomach?” Jemmy suggests.
Sitting up here on Ackerman’s rooftop seemed like a good decision at first. We just wanted to gather everyone at the end of the first working day and celebrate, order pizza, some drinks, stay up until twelve, and just revel in the newness of it all.
Of course, I somehow find myself getting a little too much with my new companions. Our group had long dwindled from the whole studio attending to just Maria, Rai, Rebecca, Taylor, and Jemmy, joined by two of my painters, Victoria and Ellie, who thought it amusing that we were still here.
Natalie asked to borrow Darth for tonight since she wanted to show her girlfriend, Rosanna, what kind of cat she wanted if they were to move in together; which meant I was free to stay up.
The working day went better than I’d expected, or perhaps it was only the excitement, but nonetheless, it left a good impression on me. I got many emails done and sent, paintings scheduled and assigned, and even started on a painting meant for me to do.
Feeling the brush once again in my hands, the knife dipped in paint, a fresh rag on my lap, and a blank slate of a canvas, my chest rose and fell with a new kind of pressure. I have a lot more responsibility, I realise that. I’m no longer at the lowest career position in the studio, but rather, a step up — one of the first to be in this spot. I don’t know if I should feel freer or stressed.
“What time is it?” I ask, opening and closing the water bottle cap repeatedly, its contents long gone and within me at an attempt to sober up before I act on my intentions of returning home.
“Time isn’t real,” Ellie murmurs from beside me, scratching the label off of her water bottle.
Victoria shrugs but answers upon looking at the watch on her delicate wrist. “One… two... one-thirty-six,” She drags out, chuckling to herself afterwards and leaning her head back.
“Time is a human construct,” Ellie continues.
Jemmy sighs a deep, long sigh, the kind that begs to be noticed. “Can everyone shut fuck, please?” He slurs out, words melding into one another and, instead, sounding more like “Can ‘vryone shu fuck, plis?”. He puts a hand over his eyes and dramatically sighs once again. “So many… thoughts… thinking… in my…”
“I think I drank linseed oil earlier,” Taylor interrupts, groaning.
“Shushush,” Jemmy slaps a finger over his pursed lips.
“That’s really hazardous,” Victoria replies to Taylor, and I pry my eyes open to look across at her. She doesn’t look the slightest bit worried.
“I’m probably gonna die now,” She sadly adds as if it isn’t much of a conflicting matter to her. “I wanted to go surfing, or go to Namibia before,”
YOU ARE READING
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓
Fanfiction𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑──── ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ one successful singer meets a painter through hiring her to paint his band's new album cover. - an excerpt of clementine ivers' life - ¡...
