LET'S GET FRESH

time didn't matter anymore.

     Imaginary Parties in our Make-Believe Ferarri, baby.

~~~~~~

     As the odd pair walked through the white, almost milky mist, Mitch's painted body seemed to glow with excitement. Scott couldn't help but notice this, of course. The masterpiece of a boy was so vibrantly painted, from his wispy hair that emulated short brushstrokes, to the shining paint of his black platform boots. The blonde took a moment to look down at his own hands, in that moment. They were almost rough, textured ... Strange, compared to Mitch's flawless, gentle hands, which seemed as though they could be so caring yet so firm. The boy, seeing that Scott had trailed behind him, turned around and paused. Stars glittered in his chocolate-colored eyes, as he moved back to the taller.

     The fog had begun to clear, at that point, as well.

     "Scott, what's on your mind?" Mitch asked politely, moving close and watching the other's hands, as well. "What's the matter with your hands?"

     The blonde, caught and enchanted by the musical qualities of Mitch's voice, looked up at him and then back down, to his imperfect palms, his fingernails. "Oh, sorry, Mitch." He shrugged. "I couldn't ... Couldn't help but look at your hands. Yours seem so flawless, delicate. As if they could never hurt a fly - Meanwhile mine.. They've got so many flaws, do you know what I mean? I mean... I guess it's because you're painted, I'm not. I don't know. I'm just trying to get used to this place... Where are we, anyway?"

     Mitch blinked once, twice, the colorful freckles on his face seeming to glitter like the little tails of fireflies, but only so subtly. "Scott, I'm not sure," He laughed. "What do your hands look like?" Easily, Scott held his hands up to the painted boy. and Mitch took them, examining all of their realism with those eyes. Those enchanting, chestnut eyes. Why did Scott seem to lose himself in finding them? - He only snapped back out of this, when Mitch played with his fingers, before setting his hands down again. "I think they're pretty hands, Scott. Hands that can work, that can play, do many things. Your hands are beautiful." He replied, in his airy, spun-sugar voice. Sparks seemed to alight between them, like miniature fireworks, bursting in the dark on the Fourth of July.

     "As for where we are ... Where we are is up to your interpretation. This is a lesson in ... I think it's called Visualization. Your mind imagines the world, and .. Suddenly, it's there," He said, so thoughtfully. With the wink of an eye, and a wiggle of his slightly hooked, otherwise adorable nose - This was merely for Scott's amusement, of course - Mitch watched the fog finish clearing. He then took a deep breath, looking around their new environment.

     And what a beautiful, sudden environment it was. The walls of the seemingly endless room were thirty feet high, fading into an odd, almost eerie lightness. Not only were the walls cathedral-esque, regal and almost intimidating, but they fluctuated in color. Sometimes they were as pink as Mitch's blushing cheeks, sometimes they were as blue, like the flecks of ultimate color in Scott's eyes. Strange, abstractly-shaped palm trees stretched out of the floor, hanging above certain spots in the environment. However, the strangest sight might have been the women. Women, all beautiful, of different skin tones, shapes, and heights, maneuvering the strange land upon their glistening, almost oil-slicked legs. Their faces were beautiful, as well, except for the large orange Virtual Reality headsets covering their eyes. For some reason, this struck a strange note in Scott's mind. Why were they distracting themselves from the world around them? -... Well, other than that, Mitch's imaginary land gave off this feeling ... One of whimsy, delight. A childish mindset was easily created in the workings of Scott's head, and the blonde laughed.