While I'm mixing paints for the colors of the sunset to the absolute perfection of my vision, even if they're a little bit off I'll be pissed, Donald walks over to me. "Those are nice." He compliments me, and I say nothing in reply. "You seem pretty focused on your work." He states. "Well, this is all I ever do." I laugh to myself. He nods a small nod in understanding, "So what do you do?" I look at him, "Paint?" He laughs and hits my shoulder, "Alright, asshole. I understand that, but I mean in terms of that. Do you work at a paint shop?" I shake my head with a smile, "I make paintings and I sell them. I travel a lot and such." "That's cool, dude. Can I see some of your work?" I stop mixing paint for a minute. "Uh," I begin, "I don't really take pictures of it." His face twists, "You mean you don't have a website or anything?" I laugh quietly to myself, "I sure don't." He fluffs his hair with his small hands that hold a lot of talent, "Man, that's wack." I laugh a bit louder, "Your hair is wack. I look at it and it just reminds me of broccoli." He rolls his eyes, "It's like the shoe size thing, but with my hair, you know?" I roll my eyes in return, "Oh, I bet." He laughs a short laugh and punches my shoulder. "So you really don't show off your paintings?" I shrug like it doesn't really matter because it doesn't, "I do anonymous work." He smiles, his teeth have a small gap creating a smile that's recognizable from anywhere, and deep dimples frame his white teeth and large lips, "Oh, very humble."
Nathan comes up behind us and hits both of our shoulders, "I'm ready to get this started! Hurry up." My eyes widen, my brows raising along with them, and Donald turns to him, "I don't think you're making a very good impression on our guy here." I'd have to say that Donald is my favorite, too bad he's at an art school in New York. "He's just grumpy." Nathan replies with a thick accent that is drilling into my skull. "If that what you want to call it." I huff, finally finishing all of the colors and bringing them over to the canvas. "So, oil? Good choice for a cityscape scene. Hopefully you have some talent hidden somewhere." Logan remarks. "At least I don't have a greasy bun." I smile back.
We finally start painting and by this time it's the early afternoon. Tons of people are passing by and making comments, pointing and the usual. Too bad I can't understand what they're saying really, or even care the slightest bit. I keep eyeing my hat every now and then to make sure it's safe. My work starts at the top with the dull sky and then bursts of color with bright orange and pink tones to warm and comfort the day and all the people walking in the city. "I'm hungry." Nathan complains, ruining the silence. It doesn't really surprise me, not even in the slightest. "Of course you are." I snap. I prefer painting with people who stay as focused on their work as me. Food can wait when you're creating something like this. Time is so valuable, so short. "Honestly, I am too." Nolan speaks up, and I feel for him a bit as he adjusts his glasses looking a bit paler than earlier. I know how it feels being shy and feeling out of place. "Are you okay?" I question him although I feel I already know the answer. "I'm just a bit dizzy." I set my brushes down, "I'll walk with you to go get some food." Logan laughs, "He has a heart? I'm so surprised." I roll my eyes, "You have shampoo? I'm so surprised. Come on, Nolan." My focus shifts to Nathan with big puppy eyes and I scoff, "Fine." Donald calls my name and I look over my right shoulder, "I'll watch your fedora." I smile, "Thanks, dickhead."
I walk my two children to the café I ate at this morning and let them eat while I scroll through news articles on my phone, reminding me that I haven't talked to my mom since I've been here. I brush it off and slip my phone back into my pocket. "So what do you do?" I ask Nolan. "He's studying to be an art teacher in California." I raise my eyebrows, "What part of California?" He wipes his mouth with a napkin before responding, "Hollywood." I smile, "You're not far away from me." He smiles a small smile, "Maybe I'll visit sometime."
We walk back to the park and pass by tons of people, many of them who ran into me and didn't even acknowledge that it happened. We finally get back to our project, "Where's Logan?" Donald doesn't even look at us, "He went to go get some drinks for us." I turn to Nathan, "You're old enough right?" He glares at me, "Yes, I am." I laugh in response to his lack of playfulness, "I'm just picking, lad." He quickly gets back to work with a not-so-subtle eye roll. Eventually, Logan returns with some lemonade drinks, "Wow, what a puss." He glares at me, "These are the only drinks the bar would let me leave with." I smile, "Sorry, big boy." I grab one and continue applying small detail to the sky with additions of depth here and there. Eventually the sun sets and it gets too cold for my comfort. "I think I'm ready to close up for today. It's too cold for this shit." Donald laughs at my remark, "You wanna go to the bar? It's right around the corner." I grab my fedora off of the ground and slip it on. "Maybe tomorrow, man. Jet lag." He hums in response, "I'll hold you to it." I dismiss myself from everyone, after the idea to exchange numbers from Nathan.
I return to my hotel room and throw myself on to my bed, probably getting paint all over the white comforter. After almost falling asleep, I pick myself up and head to the shower. The whole bathroom is rather large, but the shower is huge, you can probably fit four people in it - not that you would need to unless you're that type, that's fine. I turn the water to ice cold, like it is every night, and get it, letting the cold water bring me back to cold reality. I promised myself that I would take cold showers until I learned not to be so insensitive to everything that moves and communicates with me. Cold showers have been a very steady routine to say the least.
I get out and slip on some black boxers, climbing into bed only to pass out seconds later.
