When You're In Love with a girl

Chapter 2, Life in Oil

LIFE IN OIL

I squeeze out the tubes of color- alizarin crimson, cadmium yellow and red, ultramarine blue, cerulean blue. Grabbing my biggest paint brush, I scoop a generous amount of cerulean blue and spread it over the white, virgin canvas. I am painting our house and the places in Madison that I may miss; it will be better than any photo that I take.

I am painting the couch in our living room first—gray faux-suede. Soft, plush, and totally synthetic. I'm team wood and leather any day.

I paint Mom and Dad and Sam sitting on it. I don't paint myself in. I've never painted myself before. They are all smiling, cheerful as can be—none of them seem disappointed that I am not there with them.

I suppose I am the documenter of the family. That's right, I document the rest of my family with my paintings. By painting our life I guess that's not too different from Mom's vlogs, but Mom's vlogs are made to share with her millions of followers and sustain her popularity.

But my paintings are real, real snapshots of our life. Mom's vlogs are idealized, with only the pretty, clean videos included.

I paint the ugly things; Mom cuts them out.

I set it aside and start another painting. It's the Gemney family standing in front of the Madison capitol building.

They are all smiling. Dad is holding a selfie stick, looking like such and American tourist, even though he lives in Madison and is an American, and Mom is holding her vlogging camera, giving the camera her best "are you jealous yet?" smile.

I'm never in the videos, but I'm okay with it. I wouldn't want to be on video for millions to watch, where your every action is scrutinized. I'm okay with being Mrs. Gemney's mysterious daughter who probably has mental issues (yes, that's actually what the rumor is, no lie) because who wouldn't want to be in a vlog with ten million views?!

People seem to think that fame is better than living a low-profile life in privacy. Unfortunately, I've had no choice so far. My private life is not very private, because even if I say something outside of view of the camera, it will still pick up my voice.

I can still remember the "Mom! The toilet isn't flushing, ahhhhhhhh" disaster. That was a meme for days.

Maybe I can view moving to New York in a better, more positive light. Maybe Mom will be so distracted with her new friends in New York that she won't have time to film. One thing is for sure, though—I won't miss my non-existent friends in Madison.

Hey Leslie? I'm sorry, our family is moving to New York... I'm going to miss you so much. Oh wait, you don't exist. 

Author's Note: Dear reader, thanks so much for getting to the second chapter. I hope you are enjoying it so far! Please feel free to engage in the comments- feedback is welcome and encouraged!

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A new chapter will be posted every Saturday. Please remember to check in!

-Tara G.