The music flowed into my ears through my headphones, blocking out any other noise in my studio. The volume was up probably just a dot too high, but it was just loud enough to drown out the sound of the other building occupants from down the hall. For a studio space, it was quite noisy. To some extent, it was understandable- some creatives were loud, some were messy, some were both. I probably fell somewhere along the in-between of that timeline, but right now the last thing I was feeling was creative.
The bass pounded in my ears as I stared at the mostly-blank book sitting in front of me. There were a few sketches littered across the spread, but, for the most part, it was empty. I held my head up in my hand, combing my fingers through my long hair, thinking about how long it had been since I'd had a haircut. A change would be nice.
A minute later the swell of the music grew and the beat of the music continued to imprint what felt like stomping on my eardrums. I closed my eyes and let myself lean into my hand. The music was just finally beginning to block out the noise and ruminations coming from inside my head when it cut out without warning; my earbud had been yanked from my ear. I whipped around, startled, feeling off balance as the music continued to pound in the other ear.
Riley was standing with her hands on her hips looking more than a tad frustrated not too far in front of me. I reached over to my phone on my workbench and hit pause and the music stopped. I pulled the other earbud from my ear and dropped them on the table next to my phone.
"What the hell, Riles?
She huffed and crossed her arms. "Maya I've trying to get your attention for a while now, I knocked, I called your name, I yelled- nothing."
"Sorry," I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. I looked back at my sketches, "I guess I was pretty distracted."
Riley shifted her weight, glancing over at the workbench at my lack of progress. Her brow furrowed. I felt my face flush, the stinging feeling of guilt returning. I reached over and closed my sketchbook before resting my hands in my lap.
Riley looked at me, concern creeping into her features. She let her purse slide off of her shoulder, placing it on the bench, before grabbing a spare stool to sit down in front of me.
"What's going on? You're not yourself."
"Nothing, I'm fine. I was just distracted, I guess-," I turned my stool away from her and back toward my work, "I guess today's just not my day."
Riley was quiet. I busied myself with tidying my workspace, gathering my supplies up from their scattered locations and placing them back into their case.
I was zipping the top of the case shut when Riley spoke up again.
"You can talk to me, you know. You can tell me what's wrong." Her voice was quiet, gentle.
I paused. I opened and closed my mouth, rolling my lips in and biting down.
"There's nothing to tell, just an off day." I said zipping the case and spinning back toward her.
I smiled at her but the two lines between her eyebrows remained. I turned back toward my things.
"Maya," She reached out and gripped my shoulder, "You're not yourself. You haven't been for a couple of weeks now."
"I'm just fine, Riley. People are allowed to have off days. Call it- whatever, a creative drought if you will." I shrugged her off.
She stood up and I looked down at my hands. I reached forward and opened the sketchbook again, flipping slowly through the pages and hoping to god for a distraction.
"I can tell you're not, though. You're not yourself," Riley started pacing.
I rolled my eyes, continuing to flip through the pages.
"I mean, this is the least Maya you've ever been- well, not since right before high school…"
The footsteps ceased and I froze. My gaze bore into the pages in front of me as I realized that luck was not on my side.
Riley spun around, "Oh my god, this is about Lucas again isn't it!" I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Maya!" Riley began clapping, "Why didn't you say anyth-,"
"Riley," I spun around, cutting her off. Her applause stopped and she stared at me, the two lines in between her eyebrows reforming.
I reached around and slid the case into my bag before shutting my sketchbook on the male character study I'd landed on. I placed that in my bag as well, slinging it over my shoulder and standing up.
"It's an off day. Creative drought."
I grabbed my keys off of the bench and gave her one last look before making my way out of the room and down the hall toward the building door. Today was not the day to face that battle.