Union J Personal One-Shots (On hold)

Josh: Million Dollar Houses (The Painter) Part One

Hey y'all! This one was requested by one of my best friends Zoee. It'll be a two parter since it's too long. Enjoy. :) XX-Bee

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~Give me your heart and your hand and we can run~

Million dollar houses. That is actually the most accurate description of the neighborhood set out before me. Third and fourth -and even one that's more like the replica of America's White House- story homes of every color scatter all around in a way that makes them look orderly, elegant and perfectly aligned. (Very few are left in the color of eggshell. However, it looks anything but out of place.) There's no park for the children to hang out. But there's a grand ocean in its place. It's not surprising that no fences are used as borders. This is the kind of place where everyone and everything are in sync, where only the greatest of all time live, where the gardeners hire other gardeners to do the work for them and they still make it look perfect. 

This isn't the place for someone like me. I am just a painter. This is the part of town that the elite prestige will stick up their noses at me if I ask them for a job that means everything to me. So, why am I here? As luck would have it, or a twist of irony,  I was requested by one of these VIP. Apparently, another painter before me colored a house a shade darker than he was supposed to and he was blacklisted. Why did I take the job then,  you ask?  I have only a few pounds to my name and I'd like to have some kind credibility if I impress them, even though my reputation hangs by threads with these rich people and their million dollar houses.

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Within a few days of finishing the first home, I get called back a second time, then a third, a fourth and finally, a fifth time to paint. It amazes me to know that this is their way of saying they like what I do.  A majority of these folks still turn their noses every time they catch a glimpse of me,  but I've gotten used to it. The good news is that I'm getting paid more just because they like throw their money around like nobody's around. My guess is that it's because they like to outdo each other. I don't complain though;  the sooner I get what I need,  the sooner I can get my own view of the rich blue coast. 

My client today is Nana Shelley -which is what she likes to be called, an elderly widow. She lives across the street from the first house I painted. What intimidates me is that this is the White House replica. Nonetheless,  I paste a smile on my face and ring the doorbell.

"Good, you're early, " she greets me without preamble.  "I expect you to know why you're here." I nod so she continues. "You will be here five hours, no more and no less, from ten until three. Your break is from 12:30 to 1:30 and you will not clock in or out a minute before or after, so you will be done within a week. Afterwards, I expect another coating over the first layer so it'll take you another week. I expect nothing but the best from you young man, considering I've seen you paint around. Get to it.  I've got company arriving soon."

I nodded wordlessly. What could I say? She's higher up on the social status than I'll ever be. But I need this job.  I need to keep it. I unpack my stuff and get to work.

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(Zoee's Point of view)

"Ow, ow mercy, mercy!" I cry trying to hold back a laugh. "George, mercy! I give up!"

After three more seconds of agony, my brother finally releases my hands. "Told you you you couldn't beat me!"

"Aha, you're so funny," I reply before punching him on the shoulder. I laugh when he winces.

"Kids!" Mum hisses. "Hands to yourselves please, especially you Zoee. Act like a lady. Honestly, what would your nana think?"