"Feelings are for the weak," -C.T
"We are just so lucky that Tomas didn't take any of your words to heart. You literally insulted his best friend, Chez!" I sighed deeply for the sixty-fifth time, dipping my paintbrush into a black as Vivi walked around the studio, scolding me as if she was Davina. "Okay, but he's the one who called me a rich boy," I rolled my eyes. It was the truth, I did have money, but he didn't need to be so observant.
"Because you were giving Joaquin that usual attitude of yours! Saying how he couldn't afford your dry cleaning or whether or not he knew how expensive that shirt was?" Vivi exasperated, running her hand through her hair. "Are you his friend or mine?" I deadpanned, wondering what the issue was. Tomas had already said the issue was fine and that he was planning their next date, so I wasn't sure what I had to do with it now. "I'm yours, but that's not the point! The point is just because neither of them come from a background like us doesn't mean we need to make them feel bad about it," She mumbled.
I went to speak but she kept on going. "Tomas told me that Joaquin volunteers at a homeless shelter every weekend," I kept painting, allowing the feeling to relinquish every vein in my body. "How beautiful," I replied. The poor recognized the poor, it seemed.
"He says that he's been through a lot, but he takes the time to pray, to give thanks, to help others who are less fortunate. He said one time, he allowed a sickly mother and her homeless infant to stay with him for two days!" Vivi beamed and I kept painting, hearing the words but not retaining them. "Why don't you just marry this dude instead of Tomas? You seem to be really invested in his case," I shrugged, not finding anything useful or interesting about poor boy.
"No! I really like Tomas!" She screeched as she leaned on the side of my canvas. "It's just that he's a good man and so is Joaquin. They aren't like people we've ever met in our entire lives," She explained with sorrow in her tone and I scoffed. "Of course they aren't. You think our parents would've allowed us to meet them? God, I'd love to hear how Cordelia and Phillippe feel about that," I demurred, knowing full well that I was right.
Vivi frowned, realizing the severity of the situation. She knew Tomas wasn't rich enough or classy enough to even fit into the Baudelaire family. Cordelia was nice, but not nice enough to let some random middle-class individual woo her only child. Well, who knew what the odds favored?
"I'll deal with that later," She turned to face me. "I just want you and Joaquin to be cordial so that Tomas and I can blossom in our relationship," I raised a brow, drawing the coarse black to merge into the smooth on the white paper. "Hmph, well if you say that, I won't have Pierre do a background check on him. Though, I was curious to know what he made at the restaurant. Obviously, it's not anywhere near six figures," I snorted in disbelief, knowing that Joaquin could never.
"Chez." She said warningly, giving me a hard look. "What does it matter if I refuse to breathe the same as that poor boy? There's no reason why I have to be in the same city as him if you are dating his best friend. This isn't high school, Vivi," I sighed exasperatedly, wanting her to hop off of my case and stop griping about something so insignificant. I painted the arch of the head, connecting into the shoulders as I shaded it in, something about the act so ethereal.
"It matters none if I can tolerate Tomas or not. It matters none if I can stand Poor boy or not. All that matters is how you feel about Tomas," My brush moved automatically, listening to my subconscious as it painted the spikes of hair onto the sheet. "Which I'm still very shocked about. But it makes sense, you are a teacher at a public school," I cringed at the thought, knowing that it was just some way for her to appreciate things. I thought it was complete bullshit. "None of the men in our world would be your type," I tried to be reasonable, come up with an excuse or a reason as to why she would like somebody like Tomas.
But I still couldn't get it or wrap my head around the idea that for whatever reason, it just had to be Tomas.
"Cheyenne," Vivi muttered curtly and I shot my head to her. "This is the first guy that I've ever really liked and I mean, really liked," She bit her lip and I could see that she was willing to jump through hoops of fire just for this man. "Is it so bad that I want my best friend to get along with his friends despite our differences?" I blinked, wondering if she really wanted me to answer that question.
Because the answer was yes.
"I'm not saying that you have to be best friends with either of them because that's my role," She said and I chuckled. "But I'm asking, for me," She took my free hand and clutched it with hers, giving me those puppy dog eyes. I stared in disgust and disbelief, heaving a troubled sigh. "If it doesn't go wrong, you're gonna be the first person that my assassin kills." I warned, realizing that I was going to have to wear my less expensive clothes from now on.
Couldn't take any more chances.
"Yay!" She beamed with such happiness, wrapping her arms around my neck before kissing the side of my head. "I'll tell Tomas that the group date is on!" She cheered, pulling out her 11 Pro Max, leaving me with confusion and dread. "...what?"
She began tapping away at her phone with glee and I rolled my eyes, knowing that she was going to have hell to pay later. Not just with me, but with her parents too. The least I could do is allow her to have this semblance of happiness before reality came to hit. "If he says anything that I don't like," I shuddered at the thought of what his attire may be like the next time we meet. "It's off," I growled and she rolled her eyes as if she didn't believe me. "Admit it. The thrill of defying our parents is greater than your contempt for middle and lower class people," She leaned on my shoulder, smirking at me.
"Not if the poor ruin your favorite piece of Armani," I grumbled, knowing that I was still upset. It took almost $4,000 to get it perfectly dry cleaned and while that was chump change, it still shouldn't have happened.
I really didn't want to go anywhere where he was involved. Tomas, I may have endured his presence enough to not feel like thousands of bacteria were crawling on my skin, but poor boy? That was a definite no.
"He said he was sorry and just ask Sterling to buy you a new one," She said as if it offered all of the solutions in the world, but that wasn't the point. "What are you painting by the way? You've only been using black this entire time," She pointed to my canvas and I scooted back to get a better look at it. "...I don't know," I confessed. "My hand just did what it wanted," I stammered, analyzing the painting.
The background was a watercolor of blue to mimic the sky, but it was mainly just the outline, the silhouette of a tall individual, male it seemed.
"Who is it?" She questioned and I shrugged in reply, knowing that it wasn't myself or my father. "I'm not sure I know," I questioned myself, wondering who exactly I was trying to paint. "Oh!" She screeched as if a lightbulb went off in her head. "That's Joaquin!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
I blinked as if I was waiting for her to laugh. "Excuse me?" I folded my arms and she nodded, so sure of herself. "What makes you think I would waste high-quality paint, as expensive as it comes, to paint the outline of some cretin that I care nothing for?" She had to have been on some drug that these lower class people consume. I had Tomas to blame for that, it seemed.
"Just look at it!"
I stood up to see the picture under the full light of the study, trying to remember the dull and plain figure of the classless individual. "You see, he's the only guy that we know that has spiky and unkempt hair and his body stature is the same way. Wow, you really have a good eye, Chez," Vivi gushed and I growled in revulsion, wanting her to stop uttering such nonsense. "Say one more thing, Vivienne, and I'll never go out with you to see Tomas ever again," I narrowed my eyes with my threat and she chuckled.
"Fine, fine. Don't believe me." She put her hands up in surrender but I knew she didn't find any truth to my words. "The evidence is right here," I refused to believe that the poor boy had any manifestation on my subconscious. I didn't know nor cared about this person enough to waste my time painting on him.
"Let's go. I need to drop you off at home," She muttered. I had her drive me since I didn't want my parents to realize where I was at in broad daylight. I was the only one in the state who drove a turquoise Aston Martin, so they could easily find me and I didn't want that. I nodded to her, going to wash my hands off before grabbing my bag and phone.
On the way out, I threw the canvas out into the garbage. No need for that to taint my collection.
"What time do you think you'll be able to meet the three of us at the movie theater on Monday?" Vivi questioned once we started driving in her Tesla back to Palo Alto Hills. "Just to be clear," I had to hold back the vomit in my mouth. "Which movie theater are we going to and why?" She giggled in response, clearly finding amusement in this. She was acting like this was something of the norm and I was not having it.
"The one downtown in San Jose and because it's closer to Tomas's work," I nearly died by choking on my own saliva. "If I kill myself before Monday comes, you know why," I could not handle this at all. I was seriously questioning whether or not I wanted to be her friend anymore. She was enjoying the company of lowly individuals too much.
"Hey," She spoke after a bit of silence. "Isn't that your mother over there?" She pointed to one of the busiest places on the outskirts of Palo Alto, the Loana, a private lounge near the country club. I had never been inside, but I assumed that it was a sex club or something along those lines. I could never tell.
"Yeah," I murmured, watching her hand a random man a thick stack of cash in the alleyway next to the lounge. I narrowed my eyes, clenching my hands. What the hell was she doing? The way that she was looking at that man reminded me of the way she used to look at Sterling when I was growing up. "Yeah, it sure is."
The rest of the car ride was silent, mainly because I was trying to understand what the hell I just saw and what to do about it. "Okay. Chez," Vivi said as she looped around our parking lot. "I'll call you tonight," She said before blowing me a kiss as I exited her vehicle. "Yeah, go ahead," I waved to her as I went inside of my house with a scan of my eye to my security system. I cracked my neck, hearing the usual crusade of the Thorn household as I walked in.
"Gonna take a nice bubble bath, wash all of the poor off of me," I mumbled to myself as I skittered around the maids, not making eye contact as I put my key on the hook. "Welcome back, master," They all howled in unison and I cringed, looking at them. "Please never do that again," I said, nearly fleeing away. Their training was indeed intensive and it was disgusting and weird. Hopefully, there weren't any cameras around. I would hate to have my mother storm into my room and berate me for 'breathing' in the same air as the maids.
As long as they weren't sick and within 50 feet away, I thought I could deal with it.
I turned around the corner, ignoring the bustling and the crash of plates in the kitchen. It must've been the dinner hour, it seemed. All of a sudden, I heard the sound of sobbing and sniffling and I frowned, wondering who was shedding tears like a child. I peered closer to see my maid, Tara, crouched in the corner, her head tucked into her legs as she bawled. I blinked, feeling so out of place as the sound of my $60,000 silver Air Jordans squeaked against the floor.
Tara lifted up her head, eyes widened in shock as she started to sputter, trying to fill my head with some devious lie. "Stay quiet," I demanded, putting one hand up to shut her up and using the other to dig into my pocket. "Here," I grunted, holding out a tissue and she stared, obviously confused. "The sound of your crying degrades my soul," I deadpanned with a droll and she gulped.
"O-oh, thank you," Tara sniffled, taking the tissue from me. She offered me a sad smile, wiping her eyes. Seeing people cry was a pain, especially when they were in the way. "I appreciate it," She whispered, nodding to herself.
If Davina saw her crying like this, she'd rip her a new one. It wouldn't be your typical warning. No, she would make it into something so painful and so humiliating, Tara would just have to beg to be blacklisted so she could leave town. Davina was no more ruthless than Sterling, but she was cunning and she knew how to manipulate people.
"Don't think anything of it, seriously," I retorted as I stared at her for about five seconds before walking past her to get to the elevator. I didn't smile or anything but I just kept walking, knowing that she was looking at my retreating back.
"I just don't want your tears to stain this expensive floor."