Paradise ||H.S||

Ch.7

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"When I was an alien, cultures weren't opinions"

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I look at the painting in front of me. It still doesn't look right for fucks sake. I've been sat with the stupid paintbrush in my hands the rose hued stupid painting in front of me. Why can't I get it right. Why is something always off?

The music hums in the background, soft and smooth. I always used music to calm me, help me focus. It seems so cheesy and lame but I'd always be sucked into my own little world with music. It transports me to this little world, the little world always differs depending on the song.

Today I was in this pink land, cotton candy skies, and gushing pink rivers. A pink soaked meadow, with beautiful pink flowers; but right now, it was breaking apart, a black fog taking over. The safe place broken, infiltrated by this smoke.

Huffing, I throw the paintbrush back into my paint water. Turning off the music playing from the record player on the table top next to me. Running my hand through my curls, I turn around in my seat, look around my little studio. I mean it's not exactly a studio, but a little room where I make my art. Seeing the mess from my earlier drawings just threw me off the edge. I took my frustrated self off the chair, and trudged through the mess, being careful not to step on anything.

I let my mind wander to the events of last night. I genuinely can't believe yesterday happened. It was just a small kiss, I have no idea why tingles spread through my body the way they did. Contrary to what people would think I kissed a lot of people, it might be surprising but as much as I'm insecure, I never could get over the rush of sleeping with a stranger. There's something about the fact that it's in the rush of the moment, that you'll probably never see this person again. For once, I'm in control.

Opening my bedroom door, I walk inside, closing the door behind me. Purple light spreads through the room from the led lights on the corners of the wall. I take my phone out of the charger, and plop myself on my bed. The light coming from my phone shines on my face.

Curly witch: I hate to say it but i had an amazing time yesterday

I feel a smile make its way to my face. Oh, he hates to say it, whatever I'm the best...

Well, curly as much as i hate to admit it too i had a great time.

And I'm awesome. You should admit it with pride.

I go into my Spotify app, let it play on shuffle some music while I get ready for work.

My boss decided to give me a much appreciated call this morning to tell me I have an 8 hour shift today. I have less than an hour to get ready, get in the car, and drive to the restaurant. I let the music play in the background walking into my little closet and grabbing my uniform. The simple black polo, and black pants, although I hate uniforms this one never bothered me. I take off the oversized pyjama shirt I had on, switching it with the black polo. The pants being squeezed on next.

Humming to the song, I smooth through my clothes. looking into the mirror in front of me, my reflection that stares back at me looks far from happy, but the progress from the last months is evident. Staring at the eyebags under my eyes - which are probably from my shitty sleeping schedule - for a little too long, I feel like the more I see the effects of my sleep, or lack of, the more exhausted it makes me.

The blaring of my alarm? Breaks me out of my thoughts. I grab my phone looking at the screen.

GET OUT OF THE HOUSE YOUR GONNA BE LATE FOR WORK BITCH