Cat Valentine isn't afraid to feel. In fact, feeling is one of the things she does best. Sometimes, she closes her eyes and laughs because she feels so much, all at once, swirling and swimming around her brain, lulling her into a fantasy world that only she can visit.
Sometimes her fantasy world is full of color. Bright purple skies, orange grass soft as velvet below her feet, tie-dyed trees and rivers full of pure rainbows, twisting and turning below the surface. Sometimes Cat likes to reach out and touch the rainbows with the very tips of her fingers. Sometimes, she feels them.
Sometimes Cat's world is made up of candy and cookies and ice cream and other sticky-sweet things that make her smile. She sees spun-sugar trees and grass made of frosting. To her sides are the peppermint forests, the ice-cream ocean that stretches miles and miles, too far to see the other side. Sometimes Cat wonders what's over there. But mostly, she just smiles. Mostly, she just feels.
Sometimes Cat pretends there are other people in her world. Not that often, though, because usually Cat comes here to be alone. Usually she comes to see her thoughts, scrawled across the sky in molten gold writing, dripping from the cotton-candy clouds. But that's just usually. Not always.
Sometimes Cat pretends that he's in her fantasy world. Sometimes he's there, and the swirling colors dull in comparison to his simple shining beauty. Sometimes he kisses her, and nothing there can taste even half as sweet. But that's only sometimes.
Sometimes, he whispers to her. She can't understand what he whispers so sweetly into her ear, but she doesn't mind at all. If she wants to know, she can always look up to the sky and see his words written in the same molten gold as her innermost thoughts- because he is her innermost thoughts.
Sometimes Cat thinks she's crazy. Sometimes she really believes it. Sometimes she's glad for it. Because he only ever visits her in her fantasy world- never in the 'real' world, the place they call Los Angeles. She laughs to herself about the irony- a world that she visits every day, just for herself, is 'fake', but Hollywood, the town of liars and fakers is the 'real' world. She doesn't understand. But she smiles anyways.
Sometimes, Cat gets tired of living. Then she just lies in bed and closes her eyes and lets her thoughts take over. She loses herself within the swirling colors of her own mind, letting each thought flit through and entertain her. She watches her fantasy world change, standing to the sidelines as it morphs around her. She laughs in delight as the colors go through metamorphosis, innocent happiness overtaking her. And she laughs. And she feels. But that's only sometimes.
Sometimes, Cat loses herself in the love. Sometimes, she wishes he could really visit her fantasy world. But she's afraid of what he would think. She doesn't want him to call her crazy. That would kill her inside.
But that doesn't stop her from tugging gently on his arm, and telling him "I want to show you something. Please?" And it doesn't stop him from smiling and allowing her to pull him down the hallway, through the doors and into the courtyard. It doesn't stop her from reaching into her bag and pulling out the canvas she painted last night. His mouth drops open as he stares.
"Did you paint this?" he asks, tipping his head as he takes the swirling colors in. Cat nods, nervous about what he thinks. She's never let anyone into her fantasy world before.
"Cat, it's beautiful," he whispers, smiling at the way the trees glisten like sugar and the ice cream waves break across the brown-sugar shore. He delights in the way the ground twists and caves, making beautiful designs in colors that bring an effortless smile to his lips.
"Do you really think so?" Cat asks him, moving closer to look at her fantasy world. Now that she's brought it into the real world, it seems so… fantastic. Wonderful. Like something you only dream about. But Cat knows it's real. She can feel it.
He nods, slipping an arm around her waist to hug her. "But why did you show me?" he questions, looking at her. Cat smiles.
"It's not just my world. You visit, too," she explains, poking his side. He grins, an all out showing of teeth and complete happiness, and she knows that he feels it too.
"Can I visit it now? Can I go there?" he whispers, sounding faintly bittersweet. She nods eagerly, then pauses. "I'm not sure how to get you there," she admits, saddened. "It's only inside my head."
"Then I have to make sure I'm always in your head," he answers, pulling her close to him and gently kissing her. And Cat feels how genuine he is. She knows he feels it too.
Sometimes Cat thinks she's in love with Beck Oliver. But lately, that 'sometimes' has become 'all the time.' She feels it. And she doesn't mind at all.