The Punk's Princess

Two

Daya trailed behind a bit as the trio walked past other little shops on their way to the record store. She enjoyed walking around without being immediately recognized or having to have her security next to her at all times. It helped her feel like a person, which was sometimes hard to feel these days.

Lost in her thoughts, Daya almost ran into Crystal and Lux. The two had stopped at the front of the store, gazing up at a display in the window.

"Hey, that's us." Lux pointed up at the window. "In painting form."

Daya focused on where she pointed. She was met by a painting of their band, not too realistic and not too cartoony. It was a specific style that she found herself really liking. "That's cool." She said, trying to lean closer to read the signature in the corner. But Crystal grabbed her hand before she could, pulling her into the store behind her.

It was almost quiet, only the soft sound of an old vinyl record filling the seemingly older store. There was one person besides them inside, a girl who sat behind the front desk with her eyes so focused on a book in her hands that she didn't notice them come in. Stacks of records and CDs and even books were piled around, and it immediately caught the attention of Crystal and Lux. The two girls started looking through them in hopes of finding old vinyls from their favorite bands, but Daya was focused on another part of the store interior.

More paintings and drawings like the ones in the window lined the walls. Daya tilted her head as she studied them. They were all in the same style, but different in subject. Some were of horses, some were more abstract, some were of fantasy creatures, and she even spotted one of Stephanie's Child, the newer band that they were having open for them on tour.

Daya couldn't ever remember feeling connected to art like this before. There was something about it and she couldn't tell what it was. What she did know, was that she felt like she could get lost in them. And she didn't mind them.

"My friend made those." The girl from behind the front desk said. Daya turned to her. She hadn't even looked up from her book, just turning the page. "She's pretty good, isn't she?"

Daya glanced at the scribbled name on the nametag the girl wore. Angeria with Angie in parenthesis. "Yeah..." She whispered in response. "She is."

Angie finally looked up from her book to face her. She did a double take, narrowing her eyes and studying Daya closer. She soon just shrugged, placing her book down. "She drew a cute little picture of us. I use it as my bookmark." She raised her hand, showing Daya the piece of folded paper.

Daya stepped closer to look at it. It was the same style as the other art, just in pen. Next to the girl who resembled Angie, was another with dark wavy hair and pointed eyebrows. Daya's eyes lingered on her. "That's cool..."

"It is." Angie pulled the paper away and slid it between the pages of her book. "She's very talented."

Daya looked around at the art again, suddenly remembering Lux and Crystal's remark about their merch. "She looking for a job?" She asked, half joking but also curious. Maybe that's why she was so drawn to the art style.

Angie looked much more interested in her now, raising a brow. "She actually is, yeah. She's taking commissions right now but also looking for something more full time."

"Mhm..." Daya thought it over. She hadn't paid attention to their merch all that much, so she wasn't sure why she was the one deciding to take that into her own hands. But something felt right about this. So she pressed on. "Where can I find her?"

Angie motioned towards the window. "She's probably still at the coffee shop across the street. That's where she went this morning. If she isn't there, I can just give you her number."

Daya nodded, glancing back over towards her bandmates. They were too busy geeking out over a Led Zeppelin vinyl to notice anything she was doing. So Daya headed out the door, her curiosity about the artist behind the art getting the best of her.

She didn't really think much about what she was doing. Sometimes Daya forgot she could be easily recognized and obviously whoever she was about to meet was a fan. Yet she didn't think that part through.

With her beanie still pulled down low, she crossed the street and entered the small coffee shop and realized she didn't even ask for the girl's name to be able to find her. But she didn't have to look far.

Besides the one barista behind the counter, there was only one other girl inside. A familiar tune could be heard from her headphones, and an oil paint set was sat beside an empty coffee cup.

Bosco sniffled quietly, dipping her thin paint brush in a light gray before tracing over the stains her tears had left on the paper in front of her. She had seen people use spilled coffee or rain water on paper to make something nice, so she figured she'd use her tears. Even though she knew how pathetic that would seem if she explained that to anyone.

Even the nice atmosphere of the coffee shop did little to cheer her up today. The strokes of her paintbrush were shaky, and she hated that. Yet she continued to press on in hopes that she could force some sort of art out. Maybe then she'd feel proud of herself.

Bosco dipped her brush into a darker gray until feeling like she was being watched. She stiffened when there was suddenly a presence behind her, her hand coming to a stop.

"Jesus Christ, your art is fucking gorgeous."

Bosco was completely frozen. That voice was so familiar. She hesitantly forced herself to turn around, her eyes going wide.

Daya looked down over her shoulder, tilting her head. The ability to draw and create art like that was something she always wished she could do. But it was relaxing watching other people do it. She met Bosco's eyes. "Sorry, was that too forward?"

Bosco couldn't speak. She couldn't even believe who she was looking at. She shook her head, backing herself up closer to the window. Maybe this was just a stranger. A stranger who looked way too much like the lead singer of her favorite band. A stranger who she somehow had never met even though she'd been living in this small town forever. That's what she told herself and that's what she chose to believe. She looked down at her hands, trying to speak so she could thank the stranger.

Daya didn't understand why she seemed to incredibly shy until she realized why. She almost slapped herself. "Oh shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to like, surprise you or anything I just saw your art in the window at that record store and your friend said you were looking for a job and that I could find you here and-"

Her very messy and quick explaination was interrupted by a quiet whimper. "...You're crying-" Daya said in a slight panic, looking around for any tissues or napkins she could hand to the smaller girl to help her.

"I-I'm sorry..." Bosco stuttered out, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it. This couldn't be happening to her. She had just been rereading the old One Direction fanfics she used to worship as a teenager too much and it was making her see things. "I-I just...thought you were someone else..."

Daya paused, holding a wad of napkins in her hand. "...Oh." She set them down, taking a deep breath. "Okay, that was a weird greeting." She held out her hand. "I'm Daya Betty. I saw your art in the record store and thought it was really cool."

Bosco couldn't tell if she was about to pass out or puke after she said that. She finally met Daya's eyes, finding the features she had painted over and over again on her face. So she did one of those things as the room started to feel like it was spinning.

Bosco's head fell onto the table in front of her, and she was out cold.

----

Bosco is a whole mess in this story tbh