Mentality

Chapter Two- Eloise

Written by yours truly

Life is good, yeah? Yeah, life's good. I have a nice studio apartment only a block away from my brother and best friend, I have two good jobs I enjoy, I get to paint all the time, I get to make videos for the internet.

Yeah, life's good.

Currently, it was three in the afternoon. Previously, I was painting. I was painting a picture of the sky. There were many colors of the sky, so I incorporated them all. It was a pinwheel of night, day, and in between. A beautiful mirage of color.

That's when my phone rang. I dropped my brush in the water cup and wiped my hands on my overalls. They fell to my mid-thighs and were covered in paint splotches. I never wore anything else when I painted. They were like my lucky overalls.

"'Ello?" I answered, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder.

"Leezy!" Phil replied.

I rolled my eyes. When we were little, he couldn't pronounce my actual name, Eloise. Instead, he called me Leezy. It stuck, and now he won't stop calling me Leezy. It was okay for him and our older brother Martyn to call me that, but when other people did, I punched them.

"What?" I demanded, going to the sink to wash my hands.

It was easy to go from the bare wall in the living room to the kitchen, as my entire apartment was only one room. I had purchased a studio apartment, seeing as how it worked for me. There was my twin-sized bunk bed in one corner, with the couch at the foot. Why did I have a bunk bed? Because sometimes I wanted to sleep closer to the sky, and sometimes I wanted to sleep lower to the ground. Also, I got it for twenty pounds at a yard sale.

I also had a bookshelf next to the bed, and a chest that held my painting supplies. A closet held my clothes. The kitchen took up another corner of the room. This all faced a blank brick wall, which was where I did all my painting.

"What're you doing?" He asked.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

I heard Dan in the background, "She's painting, you spork!"

I could almost hear Phil's eyes roll. Dan, Phil's best friend and roommate, was always teasing the two of us. It was affectionate, however. He was one of my greatest friends, I have to admit.

"Can you come out tonight?" Phil asked, "We need help with a baking video."

I sighed. They did two baking videos a year, Easter and Halloween. As Easter was this weekend, they had to make the video now. Editing took awhile, so if they filmed it now, it should be up by this weekend.

"Sure," I replied, "When do you want to film?"

There was light mumbling before Phil answered, "How about five?"

"I'll be there."

He thanked me and hung up. Every year I had to help them. They needed me to help them get the ingredients in order, and help make sure the camera was aimed properly. It was hard to film in their kitchen when it was only two people, and both were on camera.

I had two hours before I had to go. That gave me enough time to put a few more touches on my painting, shower, and change into something with less paint on it.

I returned to my painting and began to stroke the canvas with my brush. It was magical, seeing the paints appear on the canvas. I loved painting.

Ever since I was little, I wanted to be an artist. I would paint everything, even some things I shouldn't. One time, at a family reunion, I painted my Uncle's face red while he was sleeping. He was so mad, I wasn't sure which red was paint and which was his actual face. Needless to say, I was grounded for that.

At around four, I finished the painting. I cleaned my brushes and hurried to shower. The paint had adhered to my skin, giving me a crusty, colorful, hue of skin.

Scraping it off my skin and pulling the paint out of my hair took about fifteen minutes. Once that was done, I dried my hair and changed into my clothes. Skinny blue jeans and a blue tee that fell just above my belly button.

I grabbed my grey leather jacket and my painted backpack before heading out. Dan and Phil's flat was only a block away from mine. It was easy to walk to their flat.

When I arrived, I went up the stairs. The trip had become autopilot by now. I visited them quite often. Then again, they visited me a lot as well.

I was lucky to be so close to my brother. Even when he launched his YouTube career, he didn't forget about me. We've been best friends since I was born.

When Phil met Dan, he introduced me. Dan grew to be one of my best friends as well. I will admit, I once had a major crush on him when I was a kid. But, that's in the past. He's like a second brother to me now.

When I arrived at their door, I pushed it to find they had left it unlocked. I wasn't surprised, they knew I was coming. When I entered, I locked it behind me.

"Phil!" I shouted, "Dan!"

"The kitchen!" Phil shouted back.

I shouldered my bag and headed upstairs. After dropping my bag in the living room, I headed to the kitchen. They had already set up the camera, and were gathering baking supplies.

"Elly!" Dan ruffled my hair.

I pouted, "Why can nobody call me by my real name?!"

Dan chuckled. He was a giant, even by my brother's standards. Although, they were only an inch apart, it felt like a mile. Dressed in his usual all-black, he didn't look very Eastery.

Phil rounded the corner a moment later, holding a bag of flour. His hair was straightened and brushed to fringe on one side. We had both inherited black hair, although he once had red/blonde hair. His blue eyes smiled.

"Leezy! Thank god, we need your help," he dumped the flour on the counter.

"When do you not?"

Dan cackled a little, earning a glare from Phil. They had a pile of ingredients on the counter, all in disarray.

"What does it mean when it says 'sift'?" Phil pointed to the recipe.

I read it over and sighed, "It means you get a net thing, put in the sugar, flour, baking soda, and salt, shake it together over a bowl, and use that mixture in your masterpiece."

I found the net-thing I was looking for. It was a metal net attached to a metal handle. I have no idea what these things are called, but they're everywhere.

"Ah, thank you," Phil grinned.

"You're welcome."

He hurried off to change into the bunny suit. Dan had worn it last year, so apparently it was Phil's turn. As we waited, Dan decided to strike up a conversation.

"My sister's coming in a week or so," he smiled, "You should meet her, you two would be great friends."

I sighed, "Is she cool?"

"She has pink hair."

"Done."

Dan laughed to himself. He knew I was all about color. To me, each color told a story, especially when they were combined. Several colors told several stories all at once. If her hair was pink, there was a story. I wanted to know.

"What's her name?"

"Howl," Dan replied, "But people call her Grace."

"Howl Howell? I can see why she wants to go by Grace."

Dan shrugged, "I've always called her Howl."

Howl Howell, she sounded interesting. Dan had spoken about her, but he never really mentioned her name. He said before she was travelling the US. Maybe she could explain the concept of 'dollars' and 'cents'. Seriously, what the hell is a dime?!

Phil returned a moment later. Dressed in his full bunny suit, we began to film. They did some banter, made some desserts, and screwed up only a tad bit. It worked out the same, however.