Hello and happy Tuesday! I know I shouldn't be starting another story, but I couldn't help myself.
This is will probably be my last gwm story. And for those of you who still follow my work, Complicated Web will be up later this week. Wild Side by next week and Greatest Team will be up some time after that.
Thank you all so much for the support.
Enjoy!
There's a sudden chill in the air as a young brunette snuggles into her sheets before frantically tossing and turning around in her bed. The flashes of darkness fill her mind at first and then, traces of pale colors of green, yellow and red start to shine through. Everything is mixed together as the colors swirl around before a bright blinding white-ish yellow light takes over and a loud beep is heard that jolts the sleeping girl awake.
She breathing heavily, her pulse is racing and sweat beads are forming on her forehead. Closing her eyes and trying to calm down, she mumbles, "It was only a nightmare," over and over again until she can breathe normally and has composed herself. Wiping her sweaty palms on her bedspread and raising her forearm to wipe the sweat from her forehead she wonders why she's still getting these nightmares after almost twelve years after the incident.
True, it was traumatic. And yes, she did talk to someone about it. But still, she thought she was past this. She continued living her life as best she could considering the circumstances. She graduated high school at the top of her class, got a scholarship for college and graduated college on the Dean's List after being on it all four years. She was making her family proud and keeping her promise. She got a degree in business and lived by her parent's word, "Find something you love and change the world as you go." She smiled to herself, thinking back to her childhood when things were simpler and then a wave of guilt hit. Maybe that's why she couldn't sleep some night. Either way, no matter what it is, she'll find way to work through it. She always does.
Falling back onto her pillows, she finds a happy memory and tries to get as few more hours of sleep before her alarm goes off. She does eventually falls back asleep and then wakes ahead of her alarm, like always. Quickly stretching out, she slowly makes her way to the bathroom and goes to turn on the shower to get the hot water running. She ignores the mirror hanging on the wall, knowing her imperfections are visible and after counting to ten and checking the temperature of the water, she gets in and starts her day.
OoOoOoOo
Within the hour, she's out the door and making her way down the street to her new business. She and her best friend decided to open up an art gallery, that's also an art store and art studio. After the accident, art became therapeutic to her and if she can help someone cope with traumatic events, life's changes, anger or anything else than she knows she's doing something right. Expressing yourself through art, whether it's paint splatters, blobs, scribbles, one or two colors or something more insightful, can make all the difference and open yourself up to new possibilities and a new start. Which is what she's determined for.
Stopping off at the local coffee shop on the corner to pick some stuff up for her best friend and business partner, she feels like today will be a good day. The last of the shipments were arriving today and by tomorrow the door will be open and they'd be in business. While in line however, she watches everyone around her and wonders about their story. Were they all happy or just putting on fake smiles so no one knows how bad things really are? Were some hiding secrets like her? She sees the smiles and lively conversations between friends. And in contrast, sees the ones who already have to deal work or situations before getting their breakfast. She think about how they can be so cheerful when she's so misplaced. She's been alone for a while now, but there's something about being in the big city of New York that puts things into perspective.
Waiting no more than ten minutes, she has the coffee and muffins and makes her way one block further to their store, 'Changing Strokes' and admires the building. It's simple really. Brick outer walls and white cursive heading above the doorway that gives it a classic look. They'll add color later, but for now, it's fresh and welcoming. And most importantly, its home. Her home.
Letting out a breath in content, she opens the door to subtle arguing coming from one of the back rooms.
"I told you, all the oil paints have to go in trays, not blocks," a loud high pitch scream echoes throughout the store.
"No, you told me to grab the black square container and put theses in there," the other, deeper voice retorts firmly.
"I didn't say that," the first voice counters back.
"You did. I'm not stupid or deaf. And, we should probably put on smiles before she gets here. Can't have her seeing us not getting along," the second voice advises.
"You could've fooled me and I agree. I think that's the only smart thing you've said all morning," the first voice mocks as silence fills the air.
After containing her laughter from all the bickering and love, hate relationship those two have, she starts to walk towards them and yells chirpily, "I got breakfast!"
Seconds later, footsteps stomp through the door and smiles are evident and shining.
"You're the best, honey. Thank you," the first voice grins, grabbing a coffee and chocolate from the hand holding the food items.
"Yes. Thank you, Riles," the second voice agrees.
"You're welcome, but you don't need to thank me. You've both been working your asses off to get the store ready. I should be thanking you guys instead. Maya, your artistic eye really makes this place stand out. And Uncle Josh, we appreciate you building all the shelving and extra labor you put in. I don't know what I'd do without the two of you," Riley murmurs truthfully, glancing around the store and feeling a sense of pride in the store.
"You don't need to thank us, Riley. We're family and we'll always be her for you. Don't ever forget that," Maya says, grabbing her best friend's hand and giving them a gentle squeeze.
"I know and I won't. I think that-," Riley starts before getting interrupted.
"Hello?" another voice, a male by the deep tone calls out from the front.
"Oh, that's probably the last of the shipments," Josh shares, rushing out to greet the person. "Hey, man," the girls hear Josh speak.
"Hey. Josh, right?" the other voice questions.
"Yeah. And your…," Josh stops, trying to remember the guy's name.
"I'm Lucas," the stranger, now known as Lucas reprises.
"Lucas, that's right. Sorry bro. So, how many do we have today?" Josh inquires, moving on from their awkward encounter.
"No worries. You would've remembered it eventually. This is my scheduled route, so you'd be seeing a lot of me," Lucas waves off, not caring about the forgetfulness. He gets it a lot. To most people, he's just the delivery guy. "And, there's five boxes. Where should I put them?"
"Um, by that empty shelf," Josh replies, pointing to the unoccupied racks. "And Lucas, before you go, I'd like you to meet my niece and co-owner of the store. She's the one you'll be seeing when you drop supplies off from now on. Riles, can you come out here?"
Lucas gives a small smile to Josh as he waits for the niece to come out. He's not entirely sure why he has to meet her, but at the same time understands that he probably should be familiar with the person in charge. He hears light footsteps and then a gentle, angelic voice breaks his thoughts as she greets him with such politeness it's welcoming and warm.
"Hi," she smiles, their eyes locking for a second, deep brown holding captivating green before she looks down towards her feet.
"Riley, this Lucas. Lucas, my niece Riley," Josh introduces with a small smirk unknown to the two.
"Hey," Lucas copies, still looking and smiling nervously at the pretty brunette in front of him as he extends a hand.
"Hey," Riley repeats, shaking his hand and feeling a spark.
"Hi," Lucas continues, not wanting to let go just yet.
And, there you go folks. Please, let me know what you think and if you want me to continue.
Thanks and until next time,
Missy xx