Another stupid Saturday. My favourite day in a week, yet so boring.
Can't he text me? Should I text him? Should I go see him? Should I go talk to him?
It was about three in the afternoon and I was still laying in bed, staring at my wall rethinking about the talk Lando and I had. It wasn't even a talk, it was shouting at each other.
Maybe I should just knock on his door, right? Or I should just leave him alone. Maybe that's what he wants.
At that moment my phone rang.
Charles_Leclerc just followed you on Instagram.
He texted me straight away.
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Ciao, bella!
Bonjour, Charles! What's up?
I just wanted to ask you, if you wanted to join me for dinner tonight.
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I need to think about this. I locked my phone and got out of bed to go and take a shower. I'll think during it.
You know what? I should just enjoy myself and go out with Charles more. Maybe I'll forget Lando with that.
Why would I need to forget him anyway, he's annoying, arrogant and selfish, I don't like him and don't want him around me. (delusion at its finest)
I hopped out of the shower after washing my body and hair, then wrapped my hair into a turban with a towel.
While I left my hair to dry a little bit, I texted Charles that I would love to join him to dinner and at what time it would be.
I thought of what to wear. There was this black dress I bought last week, but I wanted to wear it for a really special occasion. A date with Charles definitely wasn't that.
Don't get me wrong, it was a special occasion, it just wasn't some red carpet... what am I thinking, I'll never get on a red carpet. I'll just wear the dress today.
With the wage that RedBull was paying me, I can buy another five hundred of these dresses, so it doesn't really matter.
After all, you only live once.
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I was all dressed up, did some light curls and put my hair in a half-up half-down hairstyle.
The shoes I chose were some open black high heels; they went perfectly with the outfit.
I also styled a beige Prada purse that was a match to my hair.
inspiration:
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While I was getting ready, Charles texted me he's going to be here at seven, which means I have an hour to spend who knows how.
I should just go on the balcony and draw something. I don't even remember when I last drew.
I took the dress down, so I wouldn't rip it and just pulled an old oversized shirt that was probably still from the eighth grade.
Grabbing the sketchbook that my mother gave me for my eighteenth birthday, I stepped on the balcony barefoot. That most definitely wasn't a good idea. It was more of a terrible idea. The floor was freezing, but with jumping from one foot to another I got to the chair I had there.
It wasn't really a chair, it was more of a swing that was hanging from the ceiling and in the summer I even left some pillows on it, but I couldn't risk that now because of the rain.
I wouldn't want smelling wet dirty textile in my apartment.
I turned my head to the right and saw Lando sitting on the floor of his balcony, staring at the view the sea gave us.
He didn't acknowledge me, or was maybe just ignoring me, but he looked so majestic in the golden hour.
I opened the first page of the sketchbook. There were pages missing; they were ripped out by me.
I took the pencil, I always left in and swirled it around my fingers then pressed it down to the page.
I looked over to Lando's balcony again and drew the first line on my paper. It was a circle. A head. Lando's head.
I admired his posture; it was so tight, yet looked like a croissant.
My pencil was dragging along the notebook, drawing more lines that were changing into sketches and becoming clearer to see.
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I almost didn't hear my phone ring forty-five minutes later, realising it was already seven.
Lando was still on his balcony, in the same position as an hour before, staring at now setting Sun.
I answered my phone while quickly pulling my dress up only to hear Charles say this exact line.
"I don't think it's good for us meeting up." then immediately hanging up on me, before I could even open my mouth.
I sat on the floor and stared at my hands tremble. A single tear escaped my eye, before I slapped myself on the cheek and stood up to get my colour pencils.
A picture is never good without colours. I must do this sketch good.
I went back on the balcony, now with the dress and looked over to his balcony again. He wasn't there anymore. Why wasn't he there anymore?
For a few good minutes I just stared over to his, hoping he would come back out.
