But the play by play makes me wanna lose it.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I was stunned to see Becky's car was already there.

Showing up on time was rare enough, but even before me? I can count with one finger how many times that has happened. And that one time was yesterday.

Alex buzzed me in, and I went over to greet him as usual.

"Hey Alex, good morning."

"Morning."

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing."

"I hear you. So, Becky was here early today, huh?"

"Bro, she was here even before me."

"No shit."

"Yeah, I was fucking terrified man. But she didn't say much. Didn't seem to be any worse than usual."

"Alrighty, that sounds promising. I'm headed up now, see you later man."

"Oh hey, Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Boss man is here today, needs you in his office when you get the chance."

"Got'cha, thanks."

I went up to the elevator, waved goodbye to Alex, and headed straight up to the top floor.

I was determined and excited to start on the first draft, I just wanted to get whatever the boss wanted out of the way.

The elevator opened and I made my way to his office, with the door wide ajar this time.

I can see him inside on the phone, as per usual.

I knocked on the door without saying a word, getting his attention.

"Yeah, I guess we can go that route but- oh Dean! Perfect timing, hey listen I gotta let you go, my top man is here. Okay, okay, bye. Bye. Yeah, yeah, got'cha. Alright. Bye."

I could have swam the English Channel by the time he finally hung up the phone.

"Dean Dean Dean, morning morning morning."

"Good morning sir, Alex said you needed to see me?"

"Yes! Yes, uh…one sec."

He started shuffling through multiple pages cluttered over his desk.

"No no no…ah! Here it is. Alright, take a look at this."

He handed me the paper, which upon my initial inspection was just legal jargon.

"What is it sir?"

"Well, it is a request from the publishers again."

"Again? What for?"

"So, looks like they are still muddy on the censoring shit. They okayed the idea but to cover their own asses they want solid proof of what we are doing."

"Proof? But sir, we haven't even started yet."

"I know, it's bullshit. Uh…alright basically they want a sample."

"…of?"

"Talk with Rebecca, get a scene going. No story, nothing too artsy. Just give us a couple pages of some sex and dialogue."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, like a five or six panels should do."

"Sir I don't wanna complain but-"

"Hey hey, it's cool. I talked them down, you guys got until Monday."

"Oh, got'cha. I guess that sounds doable."

"There it is, doable is all we need. Oh, here he is again. I'll talk to you later Dean. I gotta get this."

"Alright Sir."

"Rick, good morning. Hey listen, we need to work on-"

I knocked on Becky's door, and she opened it within moments.

"Yo."

"Yo, good morning."

"Come in, I gotta show you something."

She grabbed my wrist and dragged me inside.

She kept her office dark, only lit by string lights that can change to whatever color she wanted.

In the center of her office, she had a huge digital pad almost the size of an actual easel.

Over the years, there was a path I had memorized to get from the door to the easel.

Because any other step outside the path I'd trip on either some kind of wire or box.

We got to the easel, and I could see she had the male character already blown up.

"Alright, so. Tell me what you think. Here is the male."

"Uh-huh."

"And…."

She tapped the screen with her finger, switching the image.

It was no longer the male.

It was the bust of a pale woman.

And she had long, slushi blue hair.

"Whoa."

"Yeah, it took me forever to decide which blues to use. You'd be surprised how many different 'slushi blue's there are."

"Yeah I bet but…damn."

"You like her?"

"I do, she's beautiful."

"Thanks. Figured if Nikki was that involved in the story, she deserved a little more too."

"That's really nice Becky, she'll really appreciate it."

"Does it look like her other wise?"

"Uhh… I mean it's not horrendously similar to her face. But you completely nailed the color of her hair."

"Eh. Good enough for me, I don't even know what the fuck she looks like anyway."

"Right, but I wouldn't want you to change it anyway. I love her already."

"Thanks man. When you mentioned opposites attract, it helped pinpoint her too. The blue hair was enough, but I like the contrast of her milky skin and the male's mocha."

"Same here."

"So, I know what I'm doing. How about you?"

"Well about that."

"Oh come on."

"It's both nothing and something at the same time."

"Dude."

"I'm sorry."

"You suck. I hate you and you suck."

"I know."

"So start with the something, then the nothing."

"The something is the boss just talked to me. The censors or someone, I really don't fucking know, want a couple panels as a sample."

"Like…completed panels?"

"Yeah, i'm assuming."

"Of what, the intro?"

"Nope. They want a sex scene."

"Oh for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, you're telling me."

"Well they ain't getting them until next week. Those pigs can fucking wait."

"He said we just need them by Monday."

"Alright, whatever."

"Yeah."

"Okay, what's the nothing?"

"The nothing is I talked to Nikki. We pinpointed the story a bit, so I was gonna get going on the draft today."

"Oh sweet, what's it gonna be?"

"The female has some self esteem issues. So she hires a personal trainer, which happens to be the male."

"Personal trainer?"

"Yup."

"And the camgirl hates herself?"

"That's not….the exact phrasing we used."

"Whatever 'self-esteem' issues hurr durr."

"Yes."

"Alright. Cool. I can work with that too."

"You got it. If you need me, I'll be in my office."

"Uh-huh. See you."

She sat down and got going again.

I carefully shuffled my way out towards her door.

She draped curtains over all of the office windows, and with the lighting currently set to a dark green it was hard to even see my feet.

I followed the path I've followed time and time again right to the doorknob.

I reached for it, but it swung out before I could grip it, making me almost fall out of the doorway.

Blocking the blinding light of the hallway was the boss, ready to catch me.

Like he was expecting me to topple out towards him the entire time.

"Whoa hey Dean, sorry sorry."

"Oh, hey there sir. Perfect timing."

From behind me I can hear Becky call out

"What up dude?"

He put his phone in his pocket and brushed off some imaginary dust.

"Oh you're both here, awesome. Dean, you fill Rebecca in?"

"Yes sir, I did."

"Great, anyway. This works out, I can tell you both at the same time."

Becky leaned back in her chair before yelling out

"Come the fuck on bro, what now?"

"It's nothing much Rebecca, I just forgot to mention to you two. Office is gonna be closed the rest of the week starting tomorrow."

In unison, we screamed

"What?!"

The boss had to take a step back, almost like our disgust threw a left hook at him.

"Whoa whoa, that is not a normal reaction."

"Why? Me and Becky finally have some good direction going, this'll set us back a bunch."

"Yeah, and how the fuck are we supposed to make panels if we aren't even here genius?"

"Guys, listen to me. It's nothing. The parking lot is getting redone, that's all."

"Okay jerk-off, that doesn't answer my question."

"I know I know, but can't you guys work on it from home?"

"This fucking guy."

She stood up and stormed towards us.

"Is anyone else gonna be working from home? Huh?!"

"Yeah sir, this doesn't seem fair at all."

"And how come we are only just finding out about the fucking paving now right when-"

"Enough!"

He crossed his arms over his chest.

"The timing sucks, I know. The sample thing sucks, I know. But I don't control these things, you guys know that."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"Cool it Rebecca. Listen, here's what I can do. If you guys walk in monday morning with those samples ready to go, you'll get the overtime from now until then."

"Overtime?"

"Yes Dean, overtime. Eight to five. For Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. That sound good?"

Becky pushed me aside and stepped in between the two of us.

"Double time."

"Overtime Rebecca. Time and a half."

"Double time mister man."

"Overtime, and i'll throw in a half day shift for Saturday too."

She didn't turn around, instead leaning back until she could see me.

"You like that?"

"Yeah, good enough for me."

She leaned back and held out her hand.

"Alright dickhead, you got a deal."

The boss shook his head, reluctantly shaking her hand in agreement.

"Deal. And Rebecca, you're getting too comfortable with that language. There is a limit."

"Yeah yeah yeah yeah, I'm sorry mister man. Whatever. Go on, shoo. We have your work to do."

She waved her hands at him, like she was trying to flutter away an annoying fly.

"Uh-huh, sure. See you guys Monday."

He waved at me, and went towards the elevator.

Me and Becky waited until we couldn't see him anymore.

"You know Becky, you gotta go easier on him."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, really. One of these days he's gonna snap."

"What's he gonna do, fire me?"

"Probably?"

"Eh. Whatever."

"You say that, but I'd much rather you not."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, really."

"Aww. Shut the fuck up."

"Okay. If you need me, I'll be over here."

"Yup."

She brushed past me and stepped back into her office.

I went over to mine and reached for the doorknob.

But instead of the click and clunk of a door opening, a large wooden slap echoed down the hallway.

"Jesus!"

I could see a baggy sleeve emerging from behind me.

At one end of the baggy sleeve was a small pale hand, keeping my office door closed.

I followed the baggy sleeve behind me, becoming a smirking Becky.

"I need you."

"Dude, it hasn't even been four seconds! What could you possibly-"

But she snatched my wrist and dragged me back into her office like a frog sucking up an unsuspecting fly.

She threw me inside and slammed the door shut, the two of us becoming Sage colored ghosts in the lighting.

She skipped past me and plopped down in her chair.

She swiveled it to face me, crossing her legs.

"Take a seat."

"What?"

"A seat. A chair. A throne. A rest. Sit down on a piece of furniture you marsupial."

"You're starting to run out of animals."

"Sit down before I gut you."

"There's no other chairs."

"Fuck…uh…there should be a box or something near there."

"A box?"

"Or just criss cross applesauce like a toddler, I don't give a shit. Just sit down, come on."

"Alright, alright."

I took a quick gander around my ankles, since that was about as far as I could see.

What looked to be a pile of coats or other clothes was gathered up in a mountain of laundry.

I shoved the top portion of the clothes aside, revealing a bean bag.

"That'll do."

I sat down in it, barely being able to spread my legs comfortably.

"Comfy?"

"Not…eh. Good enough."

"Cool. Alright, so."

She tapped on the easel a few times, bringing up a blank formatted panel.

"You gotta help me plan out the sex scene here."

"Do I?"

"You suck."

"I know."

"Look, I can draw the naughty bits. But like, I'm not sure what those naughty bits should be."

"A dick and a vagina."

"Do you have any idea how many things in this room I could kill you with?"

"Yes."

"So how about you stop being a cocky little cicada and plan out this scene you twerp."

"Plan out what exactly?"

"I don't know! That's why you're here, you fuck."

"Come on, help me help you."

"I need like…the positions!"

"Ooohhhhh."

"There you go shithead. Now come on. Do it."

"Uhh…"

"Anytime Dean."

"I can't just plan out a whole sex scene in three seconds. I need some time."

"Do you really?"

"Duh."

"Alright fine. Whatever. I'm gonna be drawing a big dingus until you're ready."

She wasn't kidding. With just three long curves, the dingus was big and getting bigger.

I sat down, trying to familiarize myself with this new direction of thoughts and creativity.

If I needed just a new death scene, or action scene, how would I go about it?

Sometimes I would go back in the story, and try to think of something brand new for the sake of variety.

Whether it be which body part have I not lopped off yet or what kind of vehicle have I not seen in a chase before?

Sometimes I would think of something I've seen before that I thought was underrated or under appreciated. I would build on top of that to both make something new while bringing something to the surface I thought deserved more attention.

Aim for that perfect middle ground between 'rip-off' and 'call-back'.

And every now and then as a last resort, I would go back into what we had already and look for unintentional red herrings or unintentional Chekhov guns.

Discover scenes or descriptions with key words or actions that didn't seem relevant at the time.

How come I said this sword had a green handle?

Or why did I make this victim use the phrase 'an arm and a leg?'

Whenever I would find something like that, it worked out perfectly.

Bring that into another scene down the road to help move the story along.

While in reality it was just taking advantage of some unnecessary details, so it comes off as intelligent and long term story telling.

But sitting in this dark green room with a four foot wide two dimensional pecker getting its veins drawn, none of those methods really seem to fit.

There were no previous scenes to recall. There was nothing to call back to.

These characters didn't even have names, they didn't have their stories told yet.

Nothing seemed relevant, nothing seemed important.

And these panels were meant to really green light everything we've come upon with so far, they couldn't be just anything.

If the male character was going to be inside the female, it still had to mean something.

Becky could draw the two together no problem, but there had to be a 'why'.

Not in our universe, but in theirs.

We know why the characters are together, we wanna see cartoons fucking.

But the character's need to know why.

So why then?

All I know about the male is what he looks like and that he's a personal trainer.

All I know about the female is what she looks like and that she's a camgirl.

And that is all I have. Other than apparently the male should be reassu-

Hold on.

"Becky."

"Yo?"

"What was that you said about the male?"

"The male?"

"Yeah, at breakfest."

"Eight inch schlong?"

"No no no, besides that."

"Uhh…what do you mean?"

"You said he was nice or something?"

"Oh yeah, he's the reassuring one."

"Exactly."

"And what about it?"

"That could be the sample."

"Him reassuring her?"

"Well yes and…I guess?"

"I command you to make sense you gopher."

"Alright, when you said that- uh…"

"Here we go with the 'uh's again."

"Look, when you told me about your…vision…with the male."

"You mean what he looked like?"

"No, what he was… doing."

"Doing?"

"….to you."

"Oooooooohhhh."

"There, there it is. Got it?"

"I think?"

"Take what you were imagining, and use that."

"Huh."

"What?"

"That's a good idea."

"Cool."

"Gimme one sec."

She leaned into the easel and started quickly sketching out her guidelines.

Her dangling sleeves wished like wind chimes as she drew out large crescent shapes all over the screen.

Once the large lines were done, she leaned in even closer for the more specific details.

I could just make out some joints and hips.

Her wrists started shooting up and down, which meant she was doing the hair.

And the final step was any hands.

No matter how many hands she has drawn over the years, she would admit to me they were the hardest thing for her to get right.

So for every hand and for every finger, she would look at her own for reference.

She stretched out her fingers like she was showing off an engagement ring, quickly peeked at them, and looked back down.

So I knew her sketch was almost complete.

With one last violent tap on the screen, she rocketed back into her chair yelling

"Done!"

Her momentum swung her around, facing me.

"Come here come here come here come here."

I tried standing up, but the awkward angle and sheer absorption capabilities of this beanbag made it nearly impossible.

Becky could see me struggle.

"That won't work."

"Then how the fuck do I get out of this damn thing?"

"You gotta like, flip over onto your belly and push off."

"I gotta what?"

"Penguin."

"What are you calling me a penguin for?"

"I'm not calling you a penguin you stupid ass, i'm telling you to slide like a fucking penguin to get out of there."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'."

It took her longer to explain to me how to get out of the beanbag then it did to actually get out of it.

"There you go numb nuts, now come on. Take a look."

I leaned over her shoulder to look at the sketch.

There was no color and no texture, but it was clear what was happening.

The male was big spooning the female, his arm wrapped over her belly.

His would-be face propped on her would-be shoulder, whispering something in her ear.

There was no iris or even pupils, but from just the shape of her eyes, I could tell the female was looking away.

"So Dean, what do you think?"

"It's looking pretty good so far."

"Think this'll be enough for a few panels?"

"Uhh…maybe. I think we can milk this a bunch but maybe have one more position just to transition to."

"Fair enough, but what about this one though?"

"What about it? It's good."

"What should the details be?"

"Details?"

"Yeah."

"That's all on you Becky."

"No, I mean like…"

She grunted.

What's weird is despite her personality, she doesn't grunt often.

"What should be happening right now?"

"Uhh…sex?"

"Dean, come on."

"Dude, I genuinely can't tell what you want from me."

"Like…should they be happy? Should it be sweaty? What room are they in? Details you ant."

"Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh'."

"Well isn't she already embarrassed?"

"Huh?"

"The female. That shape of her eyes, isn't she looking away?"

"How did…"

She zoomed in on the female's face.

"I mean…yeah. But how could you tell?"

"Was it not supposed to be obvious? That bulge on this side and the narrowness on the other side. Her iris and pupil would be down here, facing the bed. I know your eyes at this point, she's looking towards the pillow."

"Holy…"

"Is it that impressive?"

"No but… honestly yeah. Kind of."

"Well then you tell me. You already had the idea to draw her embarrassed. Stick with it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely. How come you went with embarrassed in the first place?"

"Umm…"

She shifted around in the chair, bringing her entire legs up onto the cushion.

"Well…you told me to draw my idea."

"I know bu- oh."

"Yeah…"

She tucked her chin into her knees.

"Becky, how come you're embarrassed in your own fantasy?"

"It's not…"

She gave up, and let out a large sigh.

"It's personal."

She gripped the edge of her desk, using it to barely sway away from me.

Seeing her turn away from me reminded me of a scene years ago.

Her first day at the office, her first day of work being the official lead artist.

I walked into work that day, excited to meet her.

I was also excited because it was my first day as the official lead story director.

When I walked into the foyer, I said hello to our old security guard Jordan.

"Hey Jordan."

"Good morning young man. Or should I say Sir?"

"Nah, young man still sounds good to me."

"Then young man you shall remain."

"Sounds good. Hey, have you met the new artist yet?"

"No, can not say I have. She hasn't met anybody yet."

"No? That's kind of a weird way to put it."

"Well it's hard to meet people when you are sitting by yourself in the corner."

He pointed over his shoulder, revealing a woman sitting in a chair, almost facing the wall.

Her hair was long, down to her waist.

She was wearing a floral sundress, and modest black heels.

But even from where I was, I could just sense how uncomfortable she was in her own skin.

"She's been like that all morning. Can't get a peep out of her. She only talks to the boss, and that's not saying much."

Her knees were up on the chair, her chin tucked in the groove they made.

She wrapped her small pale arms around her legs, like she was trying to keep warm by a fire.

"She's the new artist?"

"That she is young man. That she is."

"What is she doing down here?"

"Her new office isn't ready yet. Needs one more day to finish the wiring."

"Oh, but then how come she's-"

"That's all I know. You're gonna have to ask her yourself, but that might not work."

I looked back over to her.

It looked like she tried tucking herself deeper into the corner after hearing us talk.

Jordan leaned in, whispering to me.

"You know Dean, it wasn't that long ago you were sitting in a corner just like that."

"I know, that's why it's breaking my heart."

"I don't know why you creative folks are always such bashful little things, but you gotta stick together you know."

"I know."

"I understand it's scary for her. First job, big fancy building, it's a lot to take in. At least you started as an intern."

"Yeah, you gotta point there."

"The way I see it, you two are gonna be partners for a long time. So go over there right now, and start that partnership."

He tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a slight nudge.

I resisted it, planting my feet.

"Well what am I supposed to do?"

"Do what I did for you."

"Huh?"

"Come on young man, you remember our first conversation."

As a matter of fact I did.

The editor I was interning for had to leave early one day, forgetting he was also my ride home.

I hid in the foyer, since there was nothing for me to do.

The day went by as slow as Windows XP, but it was better than waiting for the bus outside.

Jordan eventually called me over to his desk, and asked me how my first few days were.

I just gave him short and sweet one word answers.

Out of nowhere, he started asking me questions about my own stories and my own ideas.

Since I couldn't really answer those in one word, next thing you know hours have passed and I've talked Jordan's ear off.

The next day at work, I was able to have great complex conversations with everyone.

That's all it took to open me up and get me out of my shell.

So, I think I knew what to do.

On my way over to her, I grabbed one of her prints out of my bag.

It was the artwork that won her the competition, getting her the job.

"Hey, um…excuse me?"

She peeked at me through her long bangs.

"Y-yes?"

"Hi, are you Rebecca?"

"Umm…yes."

"Cool, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean, I'm gonna be the story director."

I held out my hand, offering for her to shake it.

But she instead kept her legs clasped.

"Nice…to meet you too."

I put my hand back in my pocket.

"Umm…so, if you wouldn't mind, I have a couple questions about your piece here."

She moved her bangs to the side.

"Oh, that one. Um…yes?"

"I just couldn't help but adore these blues and purples. Do they have official names?"

"N-Names?"

"Yeah. Like…crow feather blue or smashed blueberry purple or something?"

For a split second, she grinned.

She hid it away, but for a second it was there.

"Umm…no I don't think so. I kind of just blended them together until I got the right one."

"Oh cool, got'cha. Any weird colors or was it just existing blues and blacks and whatnot?"

"Well, you'd be surprised how much red and green there is in purple."

She turned the chair around, put her legs on the floor, and couldn't stop talking about her process of finding the perfect colors.

And before I could really tell how long it has been, her hair was short, she wasn't wearing dresses, and she was calling me seven different animals a day.

Becky seemed as shy and as distant as she did on her first day.

I could almost visualize her hair and clothes that day, she was sitting in the exact same manner.

"Hey, Becky, you don't have to answer if you don't want. I didn't mean it like that."

"What happened to you?"

"Me? What happened to me?"

"Yeah, you. A few days ago you were disgusted by this idea I had. Now all of a sudden you want to know more about it."

She had a point, but I didn't really think much of it when I initially asked her.

"A few days ago, you were willing to tell me about it."

"I wasn't…"

She sighed again, and tucked her chin in even deeper.

"I wasn't gonna say much more in the first place. I knew you'd get grossed out."

"But there is more than this to it, isn't there?"

She did everything she could to look away even more. But her chair wouldn't spin.

It was eerie to me.

I haven't seen her like this since that day.

She was practically a completely different person. The only thing in common with herself back then was her art.

Back then, she was just a coworker.

But now, she was my friend.

"Hey."

She didn't respond.

"Hey, Becky."

She spoke into her knees, muffling her speech.

"What?"

I reached over, placing my hand on her shoulder.

"Talk to me."

She grunted.

"Please? Don't you tell your friends personal things?"

She shot me a glance, shifting the chair.

"You're an asshole for turning that against me."

I didn't respond, unsure of how sarcastic she was being.

"But you're right."

She kept her mouth in her knees, but I could see her body raise as she took a deep breath in.

"I drew her embarrassed because…it reminded me of my first time."

"Your first time?"

"Yeah. It sucked."

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

I still had my hand on her shoulder.

Part of me wanted to let go.

But more of me knew I had to stay.

"You wanna tell me about it?"

Her shoulder brought my hand up as she took a large breath in.

She held it, keeping my hand level.

And before she let it out, she unclasped her knees and rested her hand on top of mine.

She brushed my knuckles with her thumb.

She didn't apply much pressure, but I could tell she was keeping my hand down.

She let the breath out, her whole body lowering with it like she was deflating.

She turned the chair around, separating me from her.

"Nothing really happened. I had a crush on a guy in high school and…i was too shy and nervous to talk to him."

She put her legs and knees back down, sitting normally.

"But he came up to me at a Halloween dance, said he liked my costume, and by the end of the night had me in bed with him."

"Well what happened?"

"It sucked. It hurt, I didn't really get anything out of it. Either he had no idea what he was doing or sex is super overrated."

"Got'cha."

"But in all honesty, the shitty sex isn't what bothered me. The whole time, he kept trying all this bullshit dirty talk."

"Uh-huh."

"Talking about how good 'this' pussy felt, and telling me to call him daddy and shit."

"Jesus, really?"

"Yeah. And all of that bothered me more than anything."

She looked away for a second.

She was trying to find the words to say.

"That whole time…I was just an object. He never said my name, never even used proper pronouns. It wasn't 'my' body, it was just 'a' body."

She looked back at me.

She found her words. Discovered the right way to describe what she felt.

"He didn't even undress me. Didn't kiss me, or even like…I dunno. Touch me or anything. And lying on the bed just getting fucked by a- oh sorry."

She hesitated.

She stumbled over her new found words, trying to think of something more appropriate to say.

I reached over, lightly gripping her balled up fists.

"You're good Becky. Keep going."

She looked at our hands.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely. Don't mince your words, or try to say the right thing. Just be honest."

She looked back up at me.

The dark green light casting a shadow over hair, hiding most of her face.

But as she looked up and held her head higher, I could see her give me a small grin.

"Okay."

I could feel her hands shift under mine.

"Well, lying on the bed I just felt like… I didn't matter. Felt like I barely existed, you know? I didn't want to see him, I didn't want to see our bodies, so I looked away. I tried forgetting and ignoring everything that was happening."

"I hear you."

"And the entire time, up until he was done, there was really only one thing I wanted. Someone to just tell me that…that…"

She brought one of her hands to her mouth, and began shaking her head.

I knew what it meant.

She was about to say something she didn't want to say.

Her lone finger locking her mouth shut.

One more word, one more detail, and it would have been too much.

I let her think and I let her decide on her own.

I didn't say anything.

Instead I waited.

After a few moments, she sighed.

"And that's why she's embarrassed. That's why I drew her that way."

She turned away from me and went back to the easel.

She brought up the color scale, and quickly honed in on a specific pink.

She tapped the stylus into the color, like dipping a brush into paint.

Filling the female's cheeks and nose with this color, making the female blush.

"She's not embarrassed the same way I was but…"

She thickened the pink on the Bridge of her nose.

"This whole thing is still new to her."

She lightened up the pink at the end of her cheeks.

"And my fantasy for her is…"

She switched the tool to a fine eraser, fitting and correcting the blush into the guidelines.

"He is telling her it's okay to feel like that."

She zoomed the art back out, emphasizing the one bit of color so far.

And in that moment, the scene seemed to fill in itself.

"I love it Becky. I think it's perfect."

"Thanks."

"This position can be a couple panels in of itself. Maybe start with them getting into the bed, and transition to where they are now."

"Sounds good, I think I can do that."

"Anything else before I leave?"

"Yeah, what should the next position be?"

"The next one?"

"Yeah. Even If I can successfully stretch this one out a bunch, we should have another just in case."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"So what'cha thinking?"

"Becky, we've been over this. I got no idea."

"You can think of one dude, don't be like that."

"Don't be like how?"

"You aren't clueless Dean, stop pretending to be. Not sure how to make move on a woman, sure. Not sure of an accurate way to describe love, sure. But you're a grown ass man, you can think of another sexual position."

Welp.

She took all my inner monologue away from me, so I was kind of screwed here.

"Uhh….well what else is there? Doggy?"

"Wow."

"What's wrong with doggy?"

"Just my opinion, it wouldn't be good for this. Isn't that too basic?"

"Basic? Doggy is basic?"

"I don't fucking know, but my gut says no."

"Alright, alright."

"Well like…come on. I'm just using my noggin here. If she's embarrassed, I don't think any amount of reassuring will make her take it from behind."

"I guess that's fair."

"So come on, what do you got?"

"Uhhh….well…if she's embarrassed in one, how about she be something different in the other?"

"Different how?"

"Like, emotionally. What's the opposite of embarrassed?"

"Opposite of embarrassed? I don't know, confident?"

"Cool, yeah, confident. She needs a position she can be confident in."

"I'm cool with that."

"So what's a confident position?"

"Pegging?"

"Wha- no no no no."

She began kicking her legs and belly laughing in her chair.

"Come on man, what's more confident than ramming it up his-"

"Stop stop stop stop, no, stop."

"Alright, whatever. I'm not wrong though."

"To each their own, but I'm pretty sure pegging would knock this out of softcore."

"Oh, so you're an expert on softcore now?"

"Shut the fuck up bro."

She stuck her tongue at me.

"Come on you little chipmunk, then give me something here."

"What about the whole, up and down stuff?"

"The what and what stuff?"

"I don't know, like, some people are up and down or something?"

"Dean…do you mean top and bottom?"

"Yeah, that's it!"

"Jesus- wow you're worse off than I thought."

"Whatever, so what is a top thing?"

"A top thing?"

"A top thing! Aren't the top people the ones in control?"

" 'The top people.' You're adorable and you suck."

"You know what I mean!"

"Just call them tops. Tops."

"Okay. 'Tops'. What do 'tops' normally do."

"They top."

"For fuck's sake."

"You suck."

"I know, but we are getting literally nowhere."

"Alright, fine. I think top could be literal. Whoever is on top is the top."

"On top, there, cool. So if she's on top, she's more confident. Or something."

"Uh-huh."

"So how can she be on top? Cowgirl?"

"Yeah, I guess. I think cowgirl can work."

"Cool, all settled then. I'll let you get some of that done and I'll work on some-"

"Whoa whoa, where you going?"

"My….office?"

"Not yet."

"Not yet?"

"I need some reference."

"For what?"

She clicked a button, and the room's lighting turned pink.

She stood up, and walked slowly towards me.

"What do you think?"

"No no no, you are not doing that again!"

"Oh come on dude."

"Bullshit, it ain't happening."

"Seriously?"

"Yes! Dead fucking serious!"

"You suck."

"You suck!"

She scoffed at me.

"Rude."

"What do you mean 'rude'? You say I suck a million times a day!"

"Well yeah but it's true."

"Doesn't make it not- hey!"

She dove for me, leaping on top of me like a lion catching an antelope.

I caught her wrists, preventing her from landing fully on top of me.

"You fu- get off- Becky sto- come on!"

"Just let- let me- let me- one second!"

"No!"

"Just one second!"

"No!"

She spread her legs wide, trying to wrap them over me.

I could have used my own legs to keep her away, if this damn beanbag wasn't so soft and taking away my ability to use them.

She was able to wriggle her waist on top of mine, moving past my legs and rendering them useless.

"One second. Dean, I swear to god, just one second."

"I said no! And why are you so fucking strong?"

"Why are you so fucking weak?"

"Wha- hey."

And in that moment of weakness, she got one of my arms folded over my head.

Trying to get it free was more uncomfortable and painful than keeping it still.

I only had one limb left, and so I shoved it under her jaw like I was trying to keep a velociraptor from biting my fucking face off.

"Becky! Come on, knock it off!"

"What's the big deal- fuck- ow- why not?"

"Because! I don't- ow you fucker- come on, please?"

"Why are you so against- Jesus you little- ow!"

"Sorry! Sorry! But I'm telling you to get off!"

"But I…."

She had my one remaining arm gripped tightly with both hands.

"Need…."

With all her remaining might, she tried pushing my arm down above my shoulder.

"Ref…."

I fought and I struggled and wrestled as hard as I could.

But I could feel my last ounce of strength boil away as she won.

"-erence!"

My arm gave way, stretching all the way above my head reaching over the end of the beanbag.

She rocketed forward, barely stopping herself from head-butting the ever living shit out of me.

But her face was so close, her bangs tickled my nose.

I couldn't see much of anything, except her eyes and rosey skin.

And I couldn't hear much of anything, except how heavy we were breathing.

We sat there for a few moments.

I was trying to catch my breath, as much as I was my thoughts.

And if I knew what that look in her eyes meant, she was doing the same.

Assuming she really didn't know what to think of this either, made this slightly less uncomfortable.

She lifted her head up higher, and weakly said

"…please?"

"Becky, I'd rather not."

"Why not?"

"Because."

" 'Because' isn't a reason Dean."

"Look, it would make me extremely uncomfortable. Even more than I already am."

"It's not like I weigh that much, you calling me fat?"

"No, don't do that. You know what I mean."

"I obviously don't."

"Becky…it's awkward. Okay? It's really fucking awkward."

"We're awkward people."

"Oh you don't fucking say."

"Dean, could you really not handle it for one second?"

"No!"

"Why not? You didn't mind last time."

"Last time I was in shock Becky."

"Shock?"

"Yes, shock."

"…really?"

"Yes. I didn't know what to think of it, I was scared. I'm scared now. Okay?"

"…really?"

"Yeah."

"Why…what's making you scared?"

"I…I don't…."

"What do you think would happen?"

"I….I…."

"Dean, I can assure you nothing would happen."

"What?"

"Nothing would happen. It's nothing. I swear. It's nothing."

My eyes blinked, and when they opened, Becky was no longer a rosey silhouette. She was a blank shadow.

"W-what?"

"It's nothing."

You are nothing.

"F-Fuck!"

The splitting pain in my head came back in full force.

But it felt stronger, and it felt bigger.

And unlike the last few times, it lingered.

It felt like claws crushing my brain, every second another pound of pressure.

Every time I tried to open my eyes, my vision wasn't blurry, but it felt like my eyes were vibrating.

Shaking blacks and whites, no color to account for.

The shadow loomed over me.

The massive pain in my head overloading me.

It didn't numb me, it crippled me.

I could hear my screams, but they tuned into an agonizing screech.

I tried to open my eyes one more time, not knowing what good it would have done me.

But my eyes were still.

The shadow was gone.

The colors returned.

The pain subsided in seconds.

And with my first heavy breath in, I could feel Becky was off of me.

She was kneeling to the side. And she looked as scared as I was.

"D-Dean? Oh my god, are you okay?"

The pain was gone, but my head felt insanely sore.

My throat was raw from screaming.

My mouth was dry from breathing so rapidly.

So no. I wasn't okay.

'I'm good. I'm fine now.'

Is what I was programmed to say.

It's what I was about to say.

But looking at Becky made my stomach gurgle.

When I blinked, for that moment I didn't feel it.

But for every second I was looking at her, I began feeling more and more uncomfortable.

It felt foreign to me.

It wasn't an upset stomach. It wasn't anything physical.

It was an emotion.

I haven't felt this in a long time. Especially at her.

I thought I forgot what this felt like.

I recognized it all to easily though.

I was angry.

I was angry at her.

I hated….

No.

No.

I…was just angry.

"Dean…please…I didn't think that-"

"Just….stop."

I flipped over and slid off of the beanbag.

Without looking back, I walked to the door and stepped outside.

Once the door was shut, my stomach stopped boiling.

And without that heat, I felt nothing.

No emotion, no pain, and no strength.

My legs buckled, leaning me back into her door.

"Ah shit."

My mind and my body had to re-download everything.

I got feeling in my legs, going up to my arms.

I began remembering the day, going back to how I felt in that beanbag before everything happened.

And right as soon as I could see her getting up out of the chair I—

No.

No.

Just…forget it.

With one heavy sigh, I pushed myself off of the door.

But before I could reach my office, I could hear a small faint knock on what sounded like glass.

I looked at the window into my office, and didn't see anything.

I heard the knock again.

I looked up and down the hallway, but there weren't any birds pecking those windows either.

I heard the knock repeat a few more times, and it sounded like it was behind me.

I turned around, and peaking from the curtain inside her office was Becky.

She was knocking gently on the window, her face sulking like a lost kitten.

I haven't seen her frown or look like that in a long time.

It reminded me of who she was.

It reminded me she was sorry. She didn't mean anything by it.

I knew she wasn't trying to hurt me.

I opened her door, and peaked inside.

She was kneeling down on the ground, still barely hiding under the curtain.

"You're good Becky. You can come out."

"Are…you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"I'm…sorry Dean."

"It's fine, come on."

She crawled out of the curtain, still holding her head down.

"I wasn't trying to…"

"I know you weren't. It's alright Becky."

"I was just…just…"

"I get it, it's fine."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"A-are you-"

"Becky, it's fine. It's done. Let's just move on, alright?"

"Okay…"

She still hasn't looked up at me.

"Um…what are you gonna-"

"I'm just go in my office and work on the dialogue, get the panels set in stone."

"Oh…alright…um…should I just-"

"Yeah, finalize what you can. The positions, whatever."

"O-okay."

I figured the conversation was done, so I took one step back.

I gripped the door handle as I moved backward, shutting it at the same time.

But right before the door fully closed, I could hear Becky say

"Do you wanna-"

It was too late, and the door slammed shut.

I couldn't stop it in time before it cut her off.

With the door shut, I couldn't hear anything from beyond the door.

I waited a few seconds, waiting to see if she would open the door herself.

But she didn't.

From the corner of the window, I could see the glow of whatever color she had the room set to.

I saw some shadows move through the color, so I knew she was stepping away.

Soon, the thick pink became a matte dark blue.