The following morning, it was a chilled Saturday. Surpassing noon, Jane finally pried herself from her sleep and wandered downstairs to fetch herself a quick snack.
"Hey, Jane" rose a weary voice.
"Wow, Trent. Amazed to see you up so early"
"I was actually heading to bed myself" he informed. His sister's brows lowered, not surprised, but more wondering how she couldn't have pieced that probability together sooner.
"Time is just a seamless ocean in this household" pondered the artist, grabbing a packet of pretzels. Her stomach growled in disdain of its owner's irresponsible attitude to supplementing it with a proper breakfast. "If anyone asks, I'm over at Darias"
"As usual..." hummed the matty-haired sibling, scratching his beard. "Got some other assignment underway?" he quired, spotting the sketchbook.
"Nah, just some casual drawings. I figured I'd do some musing whilst she does some of her homework"
"Hey, I was wanting to ask, if maybe we could use one of your illustrations for a poster for Mystik Spiral next week. Jesse kinda liked the one with the lanky armed lady with the big teeth"
Jane's eyes darted about on the floor, as her brain tried to access her creative database, in an effort for rapid recollection. "The... one where she's in an electric chair and her eyes are sinking back into their sockets?"
Her brother grinned. "Yeah! *cough* That one. Can you do something like that?"
"Shouldn't be a problem" she mumbled with a shrug, shuffling some stuff about in her satchel.
"Yer alright?"
"I'm actually a little nervous, to be honest"
"What about?" probed the musician, pulling up a stool at the counter. He patted the seat beside him, but Jane remained standing.
"I'm supposed to be... doing a portrait for Daria. I opted to do it for her, cus she's bummed out about how she looks and I sorta offered to draw her in hopes to sorta make her feel better" she sighed softly. She was so confident yesterday when she'd discussed it with her friend. But the thought arose: what if she couldn't replicate how she saw her properly? What if it turned into one great big mess?
"What's wrong with how Daria looks?" Trent questioned with a small frown. Jane smiled at the slight defensive nature that ignited in her sibling for her friend's sake.
"Nothing. At least, that's what I'm trying to prove to her. She may not have cared before what people think... but, I suppose-"
"We're only human" Trent said, ending her statement. "Of course she cares. And it's kinda cool you're trying to help her see she's not as bad as she thinks"
"That's another issue" contemplated Jane, finally pulling up a seat. "What if she thinks my interpretation is artificial? What if she doesn't believe me?"
"Then that's on her. Sometimes, you can't change how a person thinks. At least you tried. But, you're her friend. She should take your word for it, if not anybody else's"
Nodding, Jane chewed her lip, tapping her sketchbook a little anxiously.
"Hey, Jane-o!" greeted Daria's father, seeing her daughter's 'comrade' at the door. "What's happening?"
The teen smiled a little empathetically at the dad's greeting, as she stepped inside. "Not a whole lot, Mr. Morgendorffer. Unless you consider the growing consideration of how much college appears like a scam for gullible youth these days"
"College? A scam?!" he exasperated in a mix of genuine anger and fear.
"Daria, reel your friend into your musky cavern before she causes World War 3 down here with dad!" shouted Quinn, up to her sister locked away in her room.
"Jake, come sit down. I'll make you some tea!" called Helen from across the house.
"Is that what it's come to now, Jane?" pressed the desperate man. "Has the promise of yesterday become a flaccid pipe-dream of tomorrow?! Not to you and my daughters, damn it! I won't stand for it!" he roared.
"Jane" called Daria from upstairs, looking down on the spectacle. "Could you please report upstairs, before I have to physically come to rescue you?"
Helen intruded in a hurried manner to the front door, taking her emotionally distraught husband away. "Jake! Tea! Calm down. I'm sure she was just joking" she assured, with an immense groan.
"It's never good enough" he spluttered on. "Nothing is ever good enough!"
The raven-haired gal shot her unamused friend an embarrassed smile, having not meant to cause a scene.
"I'm seriously sorry about that" emitted Jane, finding herself finally in Daria's domain.
"It's okay. He doesn't always know how to respond to sarcasm and jokes. Even I have to remind him to calm him down when I make a play on words"
Settling down, the girls took to their respective places: Jane seating herself casually on the floor and Daria seating cross-legged on her bed, reading a book. When Jane finally assembled the appropriate tools and began filling the room with gentle scratchings from her pencil on paper, she found Daria shuffling to re-arrange herself and get comfortable. She didn't mind so much at first, using the occasional movements as timings to warm herself up, but when it got to her intending to make longer timed illustrations and wanting to establish some detail, she glared at the opportunity for some decent work being scrunched up in front of her, when her friend kept making casual adjustments to her seating.
"Daria, you wouldn't happen to have duct tape, would you?" the artist uttered a little angrily.
Raising a brow at the absurd request, she looked to Jane with a witty answer in mind but found her words shrivel away, as she saw Jane stare her down intently from across the room, whilst tapping her pencil on her sketchbook with rhythmic agitation. "Sorry"
"It's cool. Just... pick a pose and stick with it"
Having that threat in mind, like some Jackass or Dirty Sanchez stunt, the bookworm found a comfortable position and sat back, reading her book. They both knew that Jane wouldn't really carry out such a menacing intention. Daria would, however, funnily enough, and they both knew that.
It was kinda strange, and even uncomfortable, for Daria to have Jane studying her as she seemingly minded her own business. It felt perhaps, even more, confronting than being in school, making a speech, or answering a dumb question for Mr. DeMartino. There was nothing she was being judged on via her verbal application to any imposed query or request for an opinion. This was her simply reading a book and her friend drawing her. It was a kind request to help her in terms of her self-image, so why did it almost feel like she had a shotgun to her head?
Things seemed pretty smooth at first, until Jane began finding herself progressively erasing, more frequently, parts of her work. Looking up, she put together the pieces of a puzzle in her brain and saw that the brunette was actually inching the book she was reading closer and higher to her own face.
"DARIA!" she barked, scolding her.
The thick-lensed chick flinched. "What?"
"What the hell is so damn interesting in that book?"
"Um... I noticed a typo?" she attempted half-heartedly. She swallowed a small lump in her throat, feeling like a child being punished.
"Dude. Shut up. Put the book down" the artist grumpily instructed.
"What's your problem? You want me to act normal, don't you?" Daria retorted, lowering the text to deliver her full, unfiltered expression.
"Do you normally read with an article 5 inches from your face? I told you not to move!"
"I forgot, okay? I'm not used to posing and 'exhibiting' myself"
Jane massaged her own temples, exhaling and shaking her head. "It's fine. It's fine. I'll just stop here today. We'll do more later"
"Won't taking my picture with your phone be easier? That way, you won't have to depend on me being still for you or me getting an itch or something"
Jane pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I know... I know. It's more logical to do that. I just... I dunno"
Daria bookmarked her page in The Picture of Dorian Gray and scooted along the bed. "C'mon. Our show's coming on" she offered, trying to bring peace to building tension.
With some hesitation, Jane clapped shut her workbook and sat watching telly with her. Both the girl's brains were in a bemuddle, regarding the intentions of the other person. Jane didn't know why she snapped so readily at her friend. She knew she was timid, and felt like instead of luring her out into a state of further confidence, she was instilling fear into her, essentially bad-mouthing her for her shyness and had her feeling like a mouse trapped in some labyrinth for science class. She was just annoyed since she wanted this thing to be as close to perfect as possible. No fancy stylizing or 'filters'. Daria required the truth and she was eager to present the truth as blatantly as she could.
Daria, on the other hand, felt exactly how Jane had interpreted it: She felt, once again, like she was being 'decoded' in some artistic autopsy, prodding at her insecurities. It wasn't right for her to feel this way about her friend. Like she was some bully, but she didn't know how else to feel about it. She was also unsure of what to expect in the end and found she didn't really want to face the truth that her only friend harbored: that being her personal impression of her. Was she thinking too hard on this? Probably. What if this was all some mean prank and in the end, it'd turn out to be a sarcastic symbolic representation of her crying at her own self-reflection? A defused narcissist. A devastating, mutated equivalent of her sister Quinn.
As time wore on painfully into the evening, Jane and Daria made no further progress and the resistance in Daria eventually paved a way for Jane's early leave.
Back at the Lane residence, Trent was perking himself up with some coffee. On his way to the basement, he saw his sister trudge in through the front door.
"Um... how'd it go?" he hesitantly asked.
"It's gonna be a lot HARDER than I anticipated" Jane replied dryly, lurching upstairs.
End of Part Two