"...and they don't have to be hip and cool anymore, which I think is a godsend — you make really bad choices when you are trying to be hip." ~ Jodie Foster
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There was a part of Parvati that just wanted to look cool in front of other people. Stars sparkled, some people wanted only to sparkle too.
And there was a part of Seamus that just wanted to paint. And to only paint for the rest of his life.
She was a star, and he was an artist.
The star and the artist.
"A lot of the time Seamus...I try to act cool in front of other people. You know, fun."
"I know Parvati," he whispers to the wind. Because he doesn't miss anything.
She smiles, sort of. "It's sad, isn't it? How I feel the need to act cool in order to impress no one special?" She's being very honest now, and she's sort of embarrassed to tell him all this. Her whole life story wrapped up in a not-so-pretty package.
People do strange things for their best friends.
"Nah," he wants to laugh now. For someone of only twelve years she was certainly strange. "You're fine, I mean..."
"I don't have to act cool with you, Seamus."
"No, Parvati. No, you don't."
He's never been just an artist to her.
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