- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- Varies.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Modern, Romance
Kassi sat in the bar for hours. Just how long, she wasn't sure. All that she knew was that the waitress had started giving her extremely dirty looks at some point, having given up the idea of a good tip when she offered food and Kassi declined, saying she had forgotten her wallet. She had retreated to the bar, sulking and eyeing Kassi with open distaste. Still the artist had stayed, watching people. The crowd swelled, then diminished. It was the wee hours of the morning when Kassi finally felt the raw open wound in her heart begin to close. Instead of feeling as though she was better off flinging herself from a bridge, she felt a cold indifference. She was simply numb, which was far better and easier to cope with.
She left the bar, walking along home in silence and ignoring the men around the doorway who tried to talk to her and paw at her in passing. Soon she was passing the gallery and she glanced at it, not pausing in her steps. Halfway past the alley, she paused, then took a few steps backward and turned her head. That was her name. She blinked and picked up the card, looking around as if to make sure she wouldn't be caught. It might not be hers. She peered inside, seeing Mikel's note. Another matter? Hm. She tilted her head, then tucked the note in her pocket and went home.
The next morning, she woke early. She knew from the way she felt when she looked at her canvases that she would not be painting again for a long time unless something changed. So, with that in mind, she began to clean. When she was finished, all of her finished paintings were out of sight, in stacks in her closets and the corner of her darkroom. Everything had been scrubbed clean, giving a very sterile feel, but she didn't care. The refrigerator had been cleaned out of everything that was no longer good, leaving empty racks and shelves behind. Not a single dish was in the sink, and the only thing left in her living room was an empty couch. No pictures on the walls, nothing. Her curtains were open and she had taken down all of the pictures and film in her darkroom, as well as put the chemicals all away and left the door open since there was nothing out to ruin anymore. Even her bedroom was disturbingly neat, with only the bed and a dresser occupying the space.
Once satisfied, she showered and dressed, deciding against eating. The letter had been put away in a drawer and she doubted she would ever look at it again. She tucked her note from Mikel in the pocket of her dark blue jeans and pulled on a pair of sneakers before tossing a burgundy sweater over her white tank top. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, kept out of her face since it looked windy outside. She still didn't know what he wanted, but she was willing to help.
She went to the gallery and walked in, noticing there was a woman in there already who was studying Kassi's painting. The woman was everything that Kassi was not - tall, curvy in all the right places, wearing a flattering black dress and a pair of heels that matched the designer purse on her arm. Even her hair was in perfect place, the blonde curls fallling around her face. She didn't turn when the door opened, still observing the painting with avid interest.
She left the bar, walking along home in silence and ignoring the men around the doorway who tried to talk to her and paw at her in passing. Soon she was passing the gallery and she glanced at it, not pausing in her steps. Halfway past the alley, she paused, then took a few steps backward and turned her head. That was her name. She blinked and picked up the card, looking around as if to make sure she wouldn't be caught. It might not be hers. She peered inside, seeing Mikel's note. Another matter? Hm. She tilted her head, then tucked the note in her pocket and went home.
The next morning, she woke early. She knew from the way she felt when she looked at her canvases that she would not be painting again for a long time unless something changed. So, with that in mind, she began to clean. When she was finished, all of her finished paintings were out of sight, in stacks in her closets and the corner of her darkroom. Everything had been scrubbed clean, giving a very sterile feel, but she didn't care. The refrigerator had been cleaned out of everything that was no longer good, leaving empty racks and shelves behind. Not a single dish was in the sink, and the only thing left in her living room was an empty couch. No pictures on the walls, nothing. Her curtains were open and she had taken down all of the pictures and film in her darkroom, as well as put the chemicals all away and left the door open since there was nothing out to ruin anymore. Even her bedroom was disturbingly neat, with only the bed and a dresser occupying the space.
Once satisfied, she showered and dressed, deciding against eating. The letter had been put away in a drawer and she doubted she would ever look at it again. She tucked her note from Mikel in the pocket of her dark blue jeans and pulled on a pair of sneakers before tossing a burgundy sweater over her white tank top. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, kept out of her face since it looked windy outside. She still didn't know what he wanted, but she was willing to help.
She went to the gallery and walked in, noticing there was a woman in there already who was studying Kassi's painting. The woman was everything that Kassi was not - tall, curvy in all the right places, wearing a flattering black dress and a pair of heels that matched the designer purse on her arm. Even her hair was in perfect place, the blonde curls fallling around her face. She didn't turn when the door opened, still observing the painting with avid interest.