Model Behaviour

2: "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Modern Man- Arcade Fire

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2013

"How's work?

I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes as I stared at my father across the small two person table in our favourite Italian restaurant. Every Sunday we'd come in here for our weekly catch up. A compromise we'd long since agreed on since my mother and father divorced.

"Exactly the same as always."

Bill Reilly's dark moustache twitched. "Really? Nothing new...?"

"No." I took a mouthful of pasta and hid my smile. "What about you?"

"Nothing exciting about being an attorney."

"But you're a good attorney." I complimented.

My father and I didn't have a... Conversational relationship. My younger sister and dad talked all the time because she decided to live with him, whilst I stuck with mom. Corrine and me were still very close, me or her swapping every few weekends when we were teenagers, or joining each other every week. I loved her to pieces. It was my father I lacked conversation with. Don't get me wrong, I didn't hate my dad. He was a good man. He just wasn't much of a talker.

Dinner passed by quickly before he helped me into my coat and walked me to my car. "Same time next Sunday?"

"Of course. I'll see you then." We hugged and kissed, just like every Sunday and I started off home.

Bored. I was bored. I had nothing exciting going on with my life right now apart from a few dates here and there, but I was so bored. Twenty-six years old and I was bored already. The only successful thing I'd achieved in the last four years was getting my degree in fine art and finding work as a lecturer at Pace University teaching Bachelor of honours degree in art. I loved my job, teaching freshman the beginnings of fine art. They were young adults and I didn't have to worry about the immaturity of students. People wanted to be there. People wanted to learn.

I parked outside of my apartment complex. Being a lecturer meant I had a steady salary. I was able to pay the bills, and have just the right amount to actually spoil myself every once in a while.

I walked in and collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. A simple life. I was set really. Except I wanted to do more. I wanted to sell some of my work. But in New York? Every Tom, Dick and Harry wanted to sell or become famous in Manhattan, I didn't want to be one of them. I grew up in Brooklyn. I'm not about to sell myself short for a pipe dream.

The temptation has always been there though. I've been putting away money for something since I'd started working at Pace. A studio, maybe even my own space to sell my work. I exhaled as I kicked my shoes off. I didn't have a clue which was... A stupider investment.

My home phone rang and I allowed it to go straight to the answer machine.

"I know you're there, Liv. Pick up. I know for a fact you just got back from your dinner with your dad."

I sighed and reached over the back of the couch for the phone. "What is it?"

Miranda laughed over the line. "How was it this week?"

"The same as every other week we have dinner on a Sunday, Randy."

"Well you two better spice it up somehow. Why not try ordering different food? That's a start." She laughed at her own joke but I crossed my eyes before rolling them.

"I'll see you tomorrow after work for the dress fitting." I said before hanging up on her laughing.

Still friends, still not going to ever give that girl up. I'm going to be her Maid of a Honour after all . Was I excited? Sure I was, my best friend's getting married for crying out loud. But there was so much responsibility it almost hurt to think about picking up her wedding dress next month. It pained me to think about the amount of cakes I had to consume to help her choose one with Jake. I just wanted the planning to be over.