The Crackhead Chronicles Of The Six Strange Swans

the wise little teacup

A/N: 'Sup guys, 'tis I, the one and only Cupcake here with another sad/mysterious one shot but this time it's actually Cimorelli related can you believe it?!!! No! Neither can I. But this is a Cimorelli one shot book so I shall grace you for what you may or may not have came here for.

Inspired by and dedicated to salmonlover17  because all she talks about is tea and is probably the #1 dauren stanner

But n e wayyyyyy

Let's get started 😎

—

Dani's tears bled through the paper like the etchings on a tombstone. She just couldn't understand why bad luck was always at her heels, catching her before she even got the chance to run away.

She tried journaling; she tried to let her emotions spill out into words only for the teardrops to spill faster and blend the blue ink, leaving an incomprehensible mess. How ironic. She scoffed internally. Even my journal has had enough of me.

She sighed heavily into her seat, leaning back as her eyes darted to the ceiling fan, the oscillation synchronised with her thoughts. Biting the inside of her cheek, she sat back up and carelessly put her glasses to the side of her desk. She stood up abruptly with an aggressively audible exhale and threw her journal against the window. She looked at her reflection through the glass the Nashville skyline city lights dancing in her silhouette—with the loose strands of her unwashed hair sticking to the sides of her rosy cheeks, her eyes tired and swollen, her baggy clothes she had worn all week were stained and disheveled, and her voice hoarse—she smiled; the first, genuine smile she had made all year.

It was odd and sudden, but she felt as if right there in that moment, the stars were aligning, like this one strange occurrence was supposed to happen right now, like it was written in the cosmos, like it was fate. She couldn't describe it in words, but rather the sensation of it felt homey and warm—it was like putting on a kettle on a cold, winter's night where the world outside was loud and messy, but inside was sweet and quiet as a comforting cup of tea was placed into her shivering hands and the warm substance eased down her throat, wrapping it up like a fuzzy blanket—except this feeling was a little stronger, it was like the universe was pulling her into a hug and telling her everything was going to be okay.

So she got ready. She didn't know where she was heading, but she got ready. She washed her grimy hair and put tea bags over her eyes to stop the swelling. She took a shower and looked through her closet until she found an outfit that made her feel herself. Then she stared back at her reflection through the window. The city lights had dimmed down but the stars danced in her eyes. The city is gleaming with life. She smiled. And so should I.

She glanced over at her desk, and reached for a pamphlet that stuck out of her bag. It was for an art exhibit downtown, a small one just at a neighborhood park. She remembered the old man who had given it to her yesterday, saying him and his team were trying to raise money for the school art programs. She waved him off, having no intentions to go out on the weekend and planned to sit in her own sadness and self pity the whole night. But she guessed he snuck in in there anyway.

She looked at the pamphlet and then checked her phone. August 12, 2027 8:00 PM, Perfect.

~☕️~

It was a huge neighborhood but the crowded streets made it feel so small, yet so welcoming as people chatted under street lights, danced to the music playing over the large speakers, and just felt the artwork—not literally obviously, there were strands of masking tape marking the appropriate places to stand when observing the pieces, but she could see in their eyes as she walked further into the liveliness, that they all seemed so in touch with paintings and the drawings and the sculptures, like every stroke was one person and together, as all the strokes combined, it created an abstract masterpiece.

There was one painting however, that caught her eyes. Maybe it was because it seemed lonely, or maybe it was the pretty stranger in front of it that seemed lonelier. She didn't want to intrude, so she just stood by her side and looked at the painting too. Dani was about to look away before the girl beside her spoke up, in a small voice.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

"Uh..yeah." Dani said, although she was not looking at the painting anymore but rather the mysterious girl. "I mean, it looks sad."

"No, not sad. Empty."

Dani glanced at it again. The teacup is empty, but she figured the girl meant something else. "Empty people are sad."

"And sad people are empty." the girl finished for her. "But it's just a teacup. It can't be either. The artist however, that's a different story."

With a puzzled look, Dani watched as the stranger walked over and sat down on a park bench, facing the painting.

"Well," the girl called out. "You coming or what?"

Dani laughed before shrugging and took a seat next to her. "I'm Lauren." she said, still facing the painting. "Danielle Calleiro ." Dani told her. "But everyone calls me Dani."

"Everyone?"

"Well, everyone I know."

"So not everyone."

"Everyone I know." Dani reiterated, still confused.

"Do I know you?"

"I don't think so...?"

"Yeah I do." Lauren laughed. "You're the teacup."

"Don't take this the wrong way but, you're a little crazy."

"Aren't we all?"

"I guess." Dani shrugged. "But what do you mean, I'm the teacup?"

"The teacup needs to be filled, Danielle. But the artist is the empty one."

"I'm still lost."

"Exactly. You're lost. That's why you came here. No one does things without reason, not really. Because there's always an answer to impulsiveness. You came here to be filled. We're all artists. Everything we do and say and think, it's all art. But you're empty. And you're lost. And you're sad. You're a teacup that demands to be filled. But it doesn't work like that. Fulfillment is temporary, everything is temporary just like a cup of tea. Look at the painting again, really look at it. What do you see?"

"There's a few stains in the inside of the cup."

"Yes," Lauren smiled. "Because it has been filled before. But someone drank it all up. It's only temporary. Now tell me, who made you all empty?"

"I don't know." Dani looked to the ground, rolling her shoes over loose pebbles and stomping on fallen leaves to hear their rustling crunch in order to fill the silence as she thought. "Life I guess."

"Because that's what life does." That's when Lauren looked at her, really looked at her, but Dani was looking at the painting, really looking at the painting. "But as morbid as it sounds, life is temporary too. You only get one. The universe gives you the controls, but you're the one who gets to control it. Live wisely. The teacup demands to be filled, and pain demands to be felt."

Dani wanted to offer her a smile and a thank you, but as she looked away from the painting, the girl was gone.

Confused, she walked back over to the display. At the bottom was a description. The Wise Little Teacup By Lisa Cimorelli it read. Dedicated to Lauren Cimorelli August 12 1998 to August 12 2020. 'Life is temporary, but love is eternal, forever I am yours as you are mine. May your empty cup bubble with joyous springs and may you pass on the message to someone in need. The teacup demands to be filled, and the pain demands to be felt.'

~☕️~

Hope you like that or whatever idk I kinda just threw together after school so it's not my best work but whatevs

Stay Gold Ponyboys 😎✌️💙

~ cupcake out ✨