Reviews :

Burgie : Holy cow can you imagine Callum in that arena? He'd cry himself all the way home lmao

chuckiboo : Yes, I adore your hearing your thoughts, so incredibly insightful. Yeah, uh... Kepa's and Callum's meet is definitely one for the books. Not pretty in the slightest.

Firesong-Writes : Thank you friend! Sooo very much. I love hearing your thoughts on the matter, Callum definitely has become something of a frenemy, hasn't he.


Song Listened To :

Wash. by Bon Iver


*Chapter 129*

"Ideas are the easy part, though execution is absolutely everything," Murphy's energized, happy voice boomed over the sunny art studio, the glass casted in beams that illuminated all twelve of Gideon's peppy, happy classmates, "Remember... Find light in your darks, seek shadow shapes and piece everything together like a puzzle."

Gideon felt Murphy's words somehow reverberate in echoey, slow motion nonsense. Although Gideon had had a productive night of beer, trashy food, weed and gossip, he held suspended staring headlong into his canvas in a fog. He furrowed his brow in contemplation, Callum's haunting words continued to prickle the back of his brain, the very idea that his whole family had a separate group chat about him was something that made Gideon feel the depth of his core tug at his already strained and worn heartstrings, like loose rubber bands. He felt stuck in a loop of words, somehow Murphy's instructions felt as if they were in reverse, and though this was his very first day as a student and he knew grace would be given, he still squeezed his eyes shut and was worried about disappointing yet another soul in his life. With strain, his lungs took in a breath, he readied his paint brush to the canvas, though flinched as Murphy's deep, raspy voice hovered over Gideon's shoulder in suddenness.

"Not used to waking up this early, I presume," Murphy grumbled cutely, Gideon felt his boggled eyes desperately try to come back to the grid, the feeling of being cross faded was definitely on its way out, though still dreadfully lingered.

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry," Gideon's voice croaked, he urgently cleared his throat and forcibly gave Murphy a bit more of a glistening, peppy throw of brightened eye contact, "I-I'm having a hard time understanding what you mean by shadow shapes..."

"Lookit the still life," Murphy instructed, he gestured to the lonely podium in the middle of the room, it was faded red and held a gorgeous, white porcelain bowl all laden with beautiful blue designs, "If you squint your eyes at it, surely you can see the cusp of that shadow shape... The sunlight is hitting it from behind, you see the shape of the shadow, there?"

"Mhmm," Gideon patiently mused, he narrowed his gaze and followed Murphy's ideations.

"Isolate that... Look into that shadow shape, you see the reflective light of the red podium in the shadow?" Murphy patiently carried on, to which Gideon nodded, "Block in those heftier shadow shapes, and... Come back to source light in the shadow. You can't have one without the other."

Gideon silently huffed a breath of a chuckle through his nose and considered the metaphor. He bobbed a nod and tossed Murphy an apologetic little smile, and with ease, he dipped his paint brush back to his palette and took in a deep breath. He frowned and felt frustrated that his lungs had somehow shrunk back to their typical size. He craved feeling loose and heavy, free and without worry, somehow Flint's dirty apartment and Callum's toxic gossip gave Gideon a reason to ease a bittersweet smile of tangible nostalgia. Speckles of sun dust flit into Gideon's view as he assessed the still life before him, he sagged and was grateful for all these hours of dedicated painting, dedicated time to meditate and be with himself, to really flesh out thoughts. Although happy to see Kepa later on today, he almost secretly wished Callum, Flint and Chase were up for making evening plans, once more. A notion he promised he'd keep private, much like any other facet of his life, he wondered just when it'd all come crumpling down on him, just when the curtain would be drawn and he'd be exposed for anything and everything. He almost wished for it, any excuse to throw in the towel and vanish was something Gideon was practically dreading and anticipating in one single emotion of stillness.

Happy to make a few art friends in class, Gideon was frustrated in the sheer fact that in trying to make friends with like-minded people, he was viciously reminded that said people that were like him were equally as frustratingly introverted. He wondered, as an introvert, if making friends with other introverts was even possible. He tried to wonder just what other introverts were in his life, people that were close to him, and the only person he could barely source in this was Mara. Feeling a sense of disappointment for the fact that said other artists weren't vying for Gideon's attention after class, eager to accept and greet the new kid, everyone packed up their supplies and left in a huff, as if staying for too long, at the cost of potentially socializing, was a crime. Gideon knew this was to be his own crux. Although birds of a feather flocked together, he was frustrated that in order to achieve such a flock, at least one person would have to stick their neck out first; a task no introvert is nearly ready to ever follow through with.

"Hard night, Fox?" Murphy grunted from across the room, he was the last to pack up, as if his world was still in slow motion.

"Oh, uh... Sort of, yeah," Gideon sheepishly smiled in Murphy's direction, "My cousin invited me out for a few beers, I lost track of time and got home late."

"Welp... You showed up here on time," Murphy gently encouraged with a small laugh and a shrug of his messy apron off of his chest, "Work hard, play hard, I guess. Got any plans for today?"

"Oh, well... I'm gunna head to my girlfriend's house now," Gideon tiredly bobbed a nod, "Hopefully she'll let me nap."

"Where's she from?" Murphy wondered happily, Gideon zipped up a smaller pouch of his bag and began to wrap up his few paint brushes.

"She's from Castle Run's unplugged version," Gideon's sweet voice soothed in sadness, he bobbed a nod and finished his statement with a dreaded sigh as he delicately tucked his brushes into his bag, "Pretty sure she was one of very few that survived the unplug."

"Shit, man," Murphy grunted in regret, "Didn't mean to bring that up, then. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Gideon stood and gave Murphy a smile of understanding, to which Murphy shrugged and took in a refreshed breath.

"But, surely she has your parents and your family to lean on," Murphy gestured, Gideon eased a smile that very largely hid a look of exasperated, guilty sorrow.

"Yeah, she's covered," Gideon assured with a gentle nod, he looked down to his bare feet and felt the wave of guilt threaten to drown him where he stood, a single emotion that was beginning to suit him all the way to the ground, "She's very loved."

"Got a solid taste of Sugar Rush. Hey, I know it ain't what she might be used to, but have her stop by next door, tell her to tell Cookie that Murphy sent her," Murphy encouraged with a loving smile, his creepy one golden and one white eye hooked to Gideon's in an ironic twist of pure, grandfatherly warmth, "Treat herself to something tasty."

"I will, that's really kind, thank you," Gideon assured with a nod and a smile, "She'd love that."

"I know she would. Cookie makes the best cookies," Murphy erupted into raspy chuckling, as did Gideon, "It's in her name. Alright, get outta here, I'll see you tomorrow, then. We'll go over more advanced techniques in another still life, so bring a fresh canvas."

"Will do, thanks Boots," Gideon eased kindly as he made his way to the studios darkened stairwell, and as Gideon quietly sagged away, his forced smile immediately drooped in full, sorrowful dread.

Sidewalk turned into gravel, dirt paths turned into winding weaves of flattened beach grass. Fortunate enough to be able to walk from Murphy's studio to Kepa's lighthouse, due to being on the closest edge of the city to Juniper's beach line, Gideon was grateful for the slow stroll, the chance to digest. His eyes fixated on his and Kepa's beautiful light house as he trudged up the grassy hills that secured it to the shoreline. It was gorgeous, the fresh coat of turquoise and white paint him and Kepa had given it practically made the sky sing. He couldn't help but beam a fresh, genuine smile upon seeing its beauty, a perfect representation of everything him and Kepa had manifested in the name of friendship that had evolved into love. Gideon felt the knee-jerk reaction to dive through the door, swing Kepa into a hug and spill his undying love for her, to give her every ounce of himself, he hesitated even further due to the fact that he wasn't technically well received in Sugar Rush, as it stood.

Gideon grimaced, the urge to cry had been brimming for hours now. Turbotime's cooler, lovely ocean air whisked his wild auburn hair about, he tucked his backpack a little tighter up his back, with both hands on the straps, and aimlessly allowed his eyes to get lost on Turbotime's glowing blue horizon. He wondered just what he had done to deserve a whole separate group chat of gossip, he wondered just why he was a focal point of negative attention instead of positive. He was desperate for people to level with him, desperate to feel a sense of belonging. The palace was such a beautiful stronghold, though Gideon quickly recounted how often he was spending all of his waking hours not even inside of Sugar Rush in the first place. Murphy's words stung; how desperate he was to give Kepa a shining, glorious example of Sugar Rush, the scoop of familial love he was sure was apart of the program, though somehow everyone was in a different play and he was left in a lonely spotlight center stage. Snickering and rough whispers could be heard in the wings, it was something he didn't want Kepa to be a part of. Not like this.

Due to telling Kepa that he would come straight to the light house upon his class being finished, Gideon gently allowed himself into their lovely common room without calling, texting or even verbally calling out to Kepa. As he stepped in, he set his hefty bag down and heaved a long, tired sigh, though he flinched in a roll of fear as he could suddenly hear an intense, scary guttural of a snarl come from up the stairs. Gideon widened his eyes, scrunched his head down into his shoulders and felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle on end. Although Kepa couldn't be seen, her intensely terrifying snarling carried on, the grumble of a lioness, it nearly rattled the windows and doors off of their hinges. Gideon bravely stepped into their sunny common room and opened his mouth to nervously inquire just what the hell was going on.

"Babe?" Gideon staggered in worry above her snarling, to which it immediately ceased.

"Oh, holy shit," Kepa huffed shakily, she cleared her throat and now immediately made her physical presence known. She cautiously made her way down the stairs, past Gideon's tiger mural. Her eyes were wide, pupils fully dilated to circles, the fur on her tail was poofed to twice its size and she looked as if she had just seen a ghost, "I-I... I didn't recognize your scent or anything, I was absolutely certain you were a stranger."

"... Oh, I'm sorry," Gideon worried with a frown as Kepa continued to cautiously approach Gideon. Her pupils slowly sagged to normal, though Gideon felt fear strike his heart the second she started heavily sniffling in his direction. It was here did he understand that he was an absolute idiot if he thought he could keep his night of smoking and drinking clear from Kepa, "I-It must be from Murphy's studio, I mean... All that oil paint and stuff-"

"No, you smell like weed," Kepa huffed a chuckle and shook her head, she drew closer to Gideon and was in the roll of falling into the motions of cutely pressing her snout to the center of Gideon's chest, though she wildly flinched in a recoil the second Gideon apprehensively took a few steps back from her. She froze, perked her ears high on her head and now fully sensed like something was wrong, "Gideon... What's going on."

"Nothing," Gideon urged in a gentle swing of a complain, he gestured his arms out and shook his head, "I-I went out last night with my friend Flint. He just so happened to be smoking and... I guess it got on me."

"... Okay, Gideon, that's fine," Kepa urged tenderly, "You're so defensive... Did you smoke some of it, too?"

"No, but I was sitting right in it, I'm sure I breathed some of it," Gideon stabbed in a further swathe of defense, to which Kepa shrugged and looked nervous to say much else.

"Okay, Gideon, it's alright if you did," Kepa staggered a cute little laugh and tried to smile, "You're... Very on edge, is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Gideon stabbed as he looked down to his hands and now felt the urge to cry brim hard at the back of his throat. He crumpled a little, he was well aware Kepa was his weakness. He was successful in keeping it all together, "Class went well."

"I want to hear ALL about it," Kepa urged sweetly, she gingerly gripped Gideon's upper arm and tilted her head down, so to catch eyes with him, "It doesn't SEEM like it went well, Gideon..."

"I'm pretty sure my family hates me," Gideon finally revealed, and with the words, he finally crumpled with the billow of fervently readily available tears, fresh and unending.

"What happened?" Kepa loudly whispered in full, incredulous, sorrowful shock as she hovered tight to Gideon like a wave of comfort hanging at the ready.

"I caught wind that they all have a separate group chat that excludes me and is strictly used to gossip about me," Gideon's deep voice staggered, he shook his head and blinked huge tears down his face that collected inside of the auburn fuzz on his face, "I spent all of class desperately trying to figure out-"

"Stop, stop," Kepa suddenly stabbed with protective fervor in Gideon's corner. He flinched and sorrowfully peered down into Kepa's beautiful, warm, loving eyes, "You're about to break yourself down into bite sized pieces so you're easily digestible, again... Stop."

"Kepa," Gideon huffed, Kepa flattened her ears and now grew stern.

"LET them choke," Kepa sternly stabbed with pinned ears to her skull, proving she meant business, ultimately shutting Gideon up. He breathed a long, steady breath through his nose and fluttered his wet eyes closed in release, allowance of Kepa's words to firmly hug his heart, "They're not for you, any longer. They've made it clear. Stay whole. Let them choke."

"I'll try," Gideon mumbled, he wiped his nose and jaw with the back of his free hand and looked about his and Kepa's sunny, lovely common room with a sense of pure relief, "I-I might take a nap, if you don't mind... I... Kind of got cross-faded, last night, and I'm exhausted because class was so early. I'm an idiot for going out thinking I'd be fine for a morning class, like that."

"I'll make you some tea, of course you can nap, Gideon," Kepa assured with a nod and a chuckle of smiling disbelief, "I want to hear all about your class, did you take a picture of your paintings?"

"I did, we can look through the few pictures I took together," Gideon nasally mumbled as the two began to mosey into the kitchen, cast in the warmest, happiest sunshine.

It was here did Gideon wonder how he could ever forget in blips, throughout the day, that this place was his center, this place was home, and genuinely no other place could ever compare. The more time went on, the more he considered moving in with Kepa, and though he was certain he'd build the courage in time, he glanced to the calendar on the side of the fridge and took note of just how many days stood between him and Valentine's Day, the day that held every single last key to his world and letting Kepa enter into it, once and for all.