Pictures And Some Memories

Fifteen: Toe the Line.

The air was chilly as I emerged from the new art space, where I spent the day scoping out the other talent I was to share the space with, and for once, I was incredibly surprised and humbled to be working with such amazing, down to earth people. The current gallery contained a rosy-red theme, from photos of dark red rouge on model's cheeks to painting exemplifying the color. I also just had a successful meeting with the owner, Erik, and was incredibly inspired and happy to begin my work for him to showcase within the next few months. 

However, all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a pizza and a glass of wine before my nightly Skype session with Larkin, as I was just finally getting over a cold and still craved some lazy time to get over the illness. Just as I had pulled up my favorite pizza place, Charlotte's contact photo took over my screen, asking to Facetime. Rolling my eyes, I accepted the call, hoping that my network's speeds would work with me enough to let the call come through.

"Hey, Ariel, I can't seem to find my phone, so I stole Charlie's. What are you up to?" he asked over the raucous laughter of our friends.

"I just left a meeting in Santa Ana at the new studio I'll eventually be showing in," I replied as I jogged across the street to my Mustang, the lone car out this late.

"I assume it went well?" he asked as I set the phone behind my steering wheel so I could start it and begin to warm up. 

I nodded, laughing when he made a face in reaction to the roar that the older car made whenever it started. "It went really well, actually! This owner is so relaxed and open to anything to be shown. You remember me talking about the other one I worked with, right?"

"The one with a stick up her ass about you displaying a naked chick as your main piece, right?" he asked, taking a drink of his beer at the end.

"That's the one," I grinned. "God, she was terrible! This may be a bit too early to say this, but I am so glad I'm working with this guy now. I can finally do whatever I please as an artist."

"Well, since you're in such a good mood, do you want some pasta and booze to top your night off?" he asked. "You can't say no in front of everyone," he added, walking into his dining room, where everyone was seated.

"You had me at 'pasta', and solidified it with 'booze'. I'll see y'all in 20 minutes, give or take. Evening classes just let out at that junior college in Costa Mesa so traffic may be a bitch."

"See, Charlie, I told you if we just called her, she'd come!" he gloated to Charlotte before we hung up. I rolled my eyes. Yes, I'd been busy since I'd arrived back, but what did anyone expect? I was either painting or working on future tour plans, as well as recording and other things that All Time Low or Flyzik wanted me to help with. Needless to say, I was booked, and I'd only been back for three and a half weeks. 

That's not to say I didn't love it, though. Larkin had almost fully come around, pleased to see that I'd been getting so much accomplished in such a short time. He was even trying to work around his schedule so that he could come out and visit me, which relieved me, as not even two weeks ago, I had no clue where we stood. Now that we were over that bump in the road, I knew exactly where we stood. Still, I knew he'd be bothered if we didn't have our daily phone call, but right as I began to ring him through my bluetooth system, a text message popped up from his end. 

Working with a client until late. It's extremely important, so much so that I snuck off to the bathroom to send this. Love you, sweetheart, have a good night. 

"Nevermind," I said aloud, hanging up and tossing my phone into the seat. I cranked the music loud and got onto the interstate, excited to have a night of just hanging out with friends rather than business. I'd seen them a handful of times since I'd moved back and I learned very quickly that little had changed as far as coming to hangout; you were expected to be at everything, and if you weren't there, you'd better have a damn good excuse. Luckily for them, I'd gotten good at hanging out while working, whether it was an email or a painting, so as long as they didn't mind me bringing my work with me, or coming over to see me at my place, I could work with them easily.