Author's Note: I'm back with another mediocre one-shot!
Day Fifty-One: Torn by Cassadee Pope
She stared at the painting. It was certainly missing something. What, exactly? She wasn't too sure.
She thought everything about the beautiful landscape painting was perfect. The ground and the trees were almost lifelike; she used all the bristles on her brush to her advantage when it came to texture; even the sky, so difficult to perfect and get all the right shades, was flawless.
She was about to try out some colors when she looked across the room at one of her classmates. She took this elective for some credits, but found herself enjoying it. Her classmate, however, seemed a bit frustrated with the topic at hand.
She couldn't help but stare. He had something extremely animated and lifelike about him. He had a certain aura which radiated some autumn color. She loved autumn and all its warmth.
She finally recognized him after a few seconds of studying his features. She had spoken to him a time or two; mainly small talk. He was kind.
But she never really considered him to be someone she really had anything in common with. She didn't expect him to be someone who would make a significant impact on her life.
She'd gone drinking a time or ten with her friends before. Mostly social drinking. Never binge drinking the really strong stuff. But things had changed for her.
She couldn't remember what brought on that epiphany for her, but something just clicked one day that she was unsatisfied with her life. She wasn't particularly proud of anything she ever did. She could bear it all to everyone, and she still wouldn't have anything to show for it.
Perhaps it was now that her parents practically disowned her that she was so upset. She didn't really miss it, either. She couldn't put her finger on things. She wasn't sad. She didn't care. But at least…she kind of belonged with her parents. They were people like her; they cared about winning and material gain.
Perhaps she finally realized that monetary and material gain didn't matter anymore. There were a lot of joys she'd never get to see if she kept going with the life she was living.
"Hey!"
She turned around. She wasn't sure how many drinks she had had so far. Her vision was hazy and she felt quite dizzy, but she could still hear perfectly fine.
"Are you okay?"
She couldn't pin a face to that voice. But it was still familiar.
Being as inebriated as she was, she couldn't find any words to speak.
"I saw you stumbling here. I don't think you should keep walking around town alone. Where do you live?"
If she answered, that could prove to be a deadly mistake. She wasn't supposed to be that stupid.
"Okay…let me take you back to my apartment. You can't stay out here, in the cold, this drunk."
She stopped stumbling, wondering if this was for real. This seemed like a horrible mistake. But at the same time, she knew she could probably get into worse danger. And she already didn't care. How much worse could things get?
As she started to get her vision back, she opened her eyes and finally saw the face of the voice that had been helping her the entire night. She recognized that face. That face was in an art class with her. He wasn't much of a realist, but his impressionistic pieces weren't too bad.
"What were you doing, stumbling around on a Saturday night?"
She thought about that question. It echoed in her mind.
"You know you could've been seriously hurt, right? I'm sure your friends and family would've been worried sick if something happened."
With that, she came undone. He let her cry for a while. It began to occur to her that she hadn't spoken a single word to him ever since he found her on the street, alone.
"What was that for? Was it something I said?"
She shrugged, sniffling. "I just…" she began, speaking for the first time and finding her voice, "before you said that, I completely forgot I even had a family and that they don't care."
He didn't really know what to say. "Sometimes even the people who care about you the most can't be open with you. It doesn't mean they love you any less. They just…don't know how to express it."
She thought about it for a moment before smiling slightly. "That's…understandable, I guess. It's just that…they were never really kind to me. Even when I was younger. And even more so now that I didn't get into my family's alma mater."
"You're in Princeton. Isn't that good enough?"
"Not for my parents," she said dismally. She finally shook her head. "Look at me; pouring my heart out to a stranger I know from one art class. You must be thinking of how much of a mess I am. I'm sorry," she said as she began to get up.
He shook his head. "No, I don't see you in that way. There's no such thing as strangers; only friends you haven't met yet."
She looked at him in amusement. She'd be sure to remember that quote. From that point on, he became the wisest person she had met.
She looked at him, extremely unenthused. This was the very same person she viewed as oh-so wise.
"What are you doing here, Toby?"
It was a Saturday night and here he was, drunk on her apartment steps. Some part of her felt this odd feeling. What was it? She couldn't quite tell.
"I haven't seen you in class lately."
She uncrossed her arms. "I dropped the class. I sort of…I don't know what happened to my muse," she answered stoically.
"Why?"
She didn't know how to answer. For someone who was drunk, he was certainly extremely coherent and intimidating.
"I don't know. Why did you start drinking? I thought you really hated alcohol," she countered coldly.
"In vino veritas."
She stared at him for a moment. She couldn't believe this was the person she had actually believed to be so wise. "In aqua sanitas."
He looked at her. His normally brilliant, lively, piercing blue eyes seemed dull, grey, and lifeless.
"How could you do this to yourself?" she asked. "What happened to you? What happened to everything you believed in and…things you taught me?" she demanded.
He didn't answer. It was occurring to her that she had no idea who he was anymore. In his body was some soulless being.
"So all this time…I've been idealizing you and picturing you as this voice of sanity and it's all just a lie."
She turned away. He didn't know how to answer.
"Well, I guess you're right. In vino veritas. I'm awake now and I can see it," she said before storming back to her apartment.
She went inside her apartment and didn't know how to feel. Underneath a canvas covering was a painting she'd been working on. She was excited to show it to him. It was a pretty impressionistic painting. She figured she was inspired by his impressionism. He was a muse of sorts.
And she realized, dismally, that this was the last painting she'd likely ever make. It wasn't finished, though.
Furiously and without proper thought, she picked up a paintbrush and her oil paint palette. Right where the pretty sky the same color as his eye was, she created clouds. An imperfect rip in her aquamarine sky.
She saw now. Her perfect sky was torn.
Guest: Yup, it was Mack Z (as I guess everyone's calling her now). I will admit that DM is one of my guilty pleasures.
Sarah: Yes! It was Mackenzie Ziegler. How do all of my readers know? I thought I was like the only person under the age of maybe twenty or twenty five who even watches Dance Moms. Thank you. And you should upload that fic (when you're ready). It's different. I don't think I've ever seen an abortion fic with them, and you're right, it's a sensitive topic, but if it's handled well, it could be amazing.
spobylover1237: I hated it, actually. I probably hate like half of what I put out there (well, I don't love most of what I put out there). Thank you. You can expect the threequel (Stay Stay Stay) to be up there sometime either today or next week. :)
MizzIsTheFizz:I know a lot of bad influences. I feel you. I hope you get to see the finale soon. Thank you! Well, you'll see me/hear from me before my birthday, so just a few more days. It was a lot of fun, but I thought I'd go into a sugar coma from all the sugar I ate last night. It was ridiculous. And no, I have no idea what/who that is/are.
AL3110: This whole one-shot was just...ew. This one is only slightly better. Still not my best work.
Guest (Anon): Yes.
Like I said, this one-shot is...mediocre. But I did reference "In vino veritas, in aqua sanitas", a saying which I personally like. I don't know why. I just do.
Anywho, the next one-shot will be based off of Are We There Yet by Ingrid Michaelson. Woohoo, Staten Island pride. I bet you didn't know that Ingrid Michaelson was from SI. I bet you don't know who Ingrid Michaelson is.
And for anyone who reads the Red Trilogy (Begin Again, Everything Has Changed), the 3rd installment, Stay Stay Stay will probably be up either today or sometime later in the week! And for anyone who doesn't, it would mean a lot to me if you checked it out! -Kayson