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My Kryptonite -A Short RP-
This is an rp for Tachigami and NekoLen either. May contain adult themes. Amethyst stared hard into his reflection, searching his deep blue eyes for answers he could never find. He sighed and blinked, moving his attention to the table that the mirror rested on. Many hair products and bottles of make up littered the vanity's top. A contract was sitting there, unsigned as his agent stood behind him, grinning widely and talking to him. "Best deal I could get you, Ami," the sunglasses-wearing bald man spoke, while texting on his smartphone. "It would make me - I mean you, so much money! Just gotta sign it, baby." Amethyst huffed, picking up a stylish black pen and quickly signing the piece of paper, throwing it behind him at his agent. The man laughed and thanked him, taking the paper and leaving the small trailer. Amethyst returned to staring at his reflection, seeing past the astonishing beauty that others saw when they met him. He ducked his head, reaching under his chair and finding his bag. Inside were various papers and books, scripts for a would-be acting career. He rifled inside until he found the thing he was looking for. A small white orb, the size of a baseball. He looked at it, becoming lost in painful memories. Sighing again, he stood, placing the ball back inside his bag and leaving the trailer. The photoshoot had been finished a few hours before hand, and Amethyst looked forward to going home. He lived in a condo, on the top floor of a fancy apartment building. From his home, he could see the whole city, as well as the ocean that was close by. He said goodbye to the few people he saw on his way out of the studio, the last person being the security guard, an old woman that adored him like a son. He walked briskly down the darkening streets, not too worried about anything bad happening to him. The city was peaceful and mostly crime-free, it was an ideal place to raise a family. Or start a modelling career... He took a detour, that night. Instead of going straight to the apartment block that was just around the corner, he strolled down another street, and then down an alleyway. He came to a small wall, which he jumped over delicately, moving towards the loud crash of the ocean. He walked down a pier and stood at the end, watching the waves and becoming lost in thought. He had enjoyed visiting this beach with his family when he was younger. It meant adventure and fun, exploring the rocky shore line and swimming in the cool ocean water. Sometimes he'd come up to this very pier and try to catch some fish... He had always been happy back then. He took the white ball from his bag and opened it, revealing a collection of pretty shells. A friend had collected them for him. "You can have these, because they are beautiful. Just like you." His friend had told him with a grin, placing them inside the hollow orb. "And if you every get sad, or lonely, you can look at them and remember me." But Amethyst no longer wanted to remember him. The memory was far too painful. He closed the ball and threw it into the surf, chucking it with all his strength and crying in frustration. "Why did you have to marry her?!" He hit one of the wooden poles that supported the pier. Composing himself, he turned around and left. It was getting quite late, so Amethyst took a shortcut home, walking down a smelly little tunnel. It was dark down there, with barely any light. He quickened his pace when a shadowy figure jumped out from behind a row of dustbins. The old man was ugly and squat, reminding Amethyst of a toad. He held out a knife and pointed at the model's bag. "Wuts a good-lookin' ting like oo doin' down 'ere?" the man croaked, dribbling yellow spit down his chin. Amethyst recoiled. "Gives us your bag, luff." "I haven't got anything on me," Amethyst spoke, his voice sounding amazingly calm. He had always been able to pretend, it was what made him a good actor. Amethyst passed the bag to the man anyway, watching him as he pulled everything out of it. He became angry when he realised that the bag held no valubles. "Worthless!" he yelled, lunging forward with the knife. Amethyst brought his hands up to protect his body, screaming as he felt the blade pierce his flesh. Cradling his wounded hand, he collapsed to his knees as the ugly old man hobbled off. He started to shudder as he felt the hot blood gushing from his wound, surprised that it didn't seem to hurt. He heard thunder in the distance and wind swept through the tunnel, blowing the contents of his bag away. Amethyst shouted in frustration, once again, leaping forward to save some of his papers while blood streamed from his wound. If only he had his mobile on him... |
His hands were buried deep in his pockets as he walked off the shoulder, on a bike trail that wasn't being used. He'd been here for a few months now, having requested a transfer about a year ago. Forcing himself to live in that mountainous city after the divorce was too much for Logan to take, too many memories crashing down around him, too much ridicule from others. His wife had been a sweet woman, of course, an angel with dark hair and darker eyes. A pristine figure of the society, and Logan had married her about two years after meeting her in a somewhat quiet club. At the time he was sure he'd loved her, sure that his feeling was solid. But it took only one more year of a quiet, settled life to understand how much he'd been stuck in past memories. He couldn't love her, not really, not fully, and he'd told her that the moment he realized it. While there were no hard feelings about the matter and the divorce went smoothly, Logan still felt terrible about having wasted three years of her life, and his own as well. And her family had blamed him entirely, as if he were some sort of heartless monster. So he had to leave, if only to escape the guilt. And, perhaps, the memories But now the sight of the ocean roaring to his left only made it worse. He couldn't help but recall the family vacation he'd gone on with some friends of the family, and how he would spend so much time with his friend. Couldn't he have figured it out back then? True he was a kid, hardly a teenager at the time, but... Logan shook his head hard, sending his blue-black hair wild in the humid air. He was stupid then. And stupider when they'd both gone to art school together. He'd made it all the way, and went on to work for a design company. A corporation that was based in only several cities, and handled art for television, politics, establishments, entrepreneurs, and high-class clients. He loved making art, seeing it placed on television and in ads, though recently he'd been so... frustrated, and lost in thought. He couldn't help but think about his real friend. All the others were so fake, or just feigning niceties so they could get through the day unscathed. Logan closed his eyes, and brought up his hands, running them over his face. He couldn't stop walking the beach at night, or walking the street beside the beach. It was like some form of self-inflicted torture, but he couldn't stop. It was as if he'd see that past self of his and be able to slap some sense into him... But really, it was because of the theater nearby. He'd designed the fliers for the theater... Something brought his eyes forward, to a rather dark tunnel ahead of him. A call? It sounded desperate. Like it was in pain. And the breeze picked up to drown it out a little, carrying some papers along at such a swift pace they picked up and almost hit Logan in the face. He grabbed them, though, and went forward, collecting a few more as they showed themselves, like little white beacons of light in the storm that was beginning to drop rain. Still, he was somewhat reluctant to step into the tunnel, but the noise... was that a shout? He hurried in, using his keychain flashlight to illuminate the gloom. "Hey! I have your papers..." Logan's voice faltered as he studied the man. Blood smeared some of the nearest papers, and it took a moment to understand where it was coming from: His hand. But it was the voice, which was more mature and shrouded in frustration, that had him pause. It sounded so familiar. "A...Ami...?" Logan squinted his emerald eyes, trying to see the other man in more clarity. But it was so difficult in the fallen evening and thick layer of clouds. The hair... And he'd heard that the failed artist had come here. It was the cap of the reason he wanted to be transferred here, if only to get away from his ex-wife's family. |
Amethyst started at the bright light approaching him. He cradled his wounded hand and stuffed some of the blood stained papers back into his bag. When he heard his name being called he blinked and squinted past the light. Who was this man that seemed to know his nickname? Perhaps just a crazy fan, he hoped not in his situation. "Argh, yes, do you have a phone? I need an ambulance," he wasn't sure if his wound was fatal or not, but he was starting to feel woozy. "I've been stabbed." Luckily he had had his tetanus shots recently.
He picked himself up off the ground and suddenly recognised that voice. It had seemed so familiar when the man had spoken, but he hadn't thought too hard on it. He had met many people in his line of work, and many fans. He had assumed that it was some of them, but now that his eyes focussed in the dark... "Log... Logan?" He couldn't believe it. His childhood friend was standing in front of him, years older than when he last saw him. |
So he remembered? Amethyst remembered Logan? It was like some lucid dream, like something he could control, and he had to bite his tongue to know he wasn't just dreaming. No. His wincing pain said he was indeed in reality and had indeed come across his dear childhood friend having been stabbed in the hand in a smelly little tunnel by the sea. He put the papers down, suddenly feeling they weren't quite important anymore---not as important as the blood oozing from his hand. "Oh my God..." He felt almost weak. As if the wound were through the young man's chest or stomach rather than the hand. Just the hand, where it was probably fine with a little sanitizing alcohol and bandaging. He hooked the keychain on his belt loop and took Amethyst's hand, carefully uncurling the fingers and taking a clean cloth handkerchief out of his pocket. He usually used it to clean paint stains, but hadn't had the need to do so recently. "What happened?" He asked quietly, feeling odd while he wrapped the thing around the wound. He hadn't seen Ami in years, and now he'd met him again. The object of his wandering mind, his affection, for too long. |
"A man tried to mug me. I think he was crazy, though," Amethyst said, watching as Logan bandaged his hand and still in shock that he had run into the man. After years of longing and hurt... Years of regret and shame... And now he was talking to Logan as though they had seen each other just yesterday. Amethyst couldn't help but to notice that Logan's hands were ringless. Had he left her? His heart fluttered with hope.
"Some homeless drunk... Mad that I had no money on me, so he stabbed me." He flexed his hand once it was bandaged up, wincing as it hurt. "Gonna still need to go to the hospital..." Amethyst didn't want to leave Logan's side. He wanted to cling to him and kiss him, take him home and show him his room... He blushed lightly, thanking the dark for hiding his embarrassment. |
An immediate spike of worry went through Logan's chest. Would he want to leave? Part ways so he could find his way to a nearby emergency room to get his hand taken care of? Who knew what was on the dull blade of a homeless drunk? Filth, rust, disgusting things he'd rather not think about. "I can... drive you, if you like." Logan offered quickly. After mixing with the high-powered CEO and partners of the company, Logan had learned how to fake emotions, feign certain mannerisms to fit the situation. It almost felt natural to fake a friendlier emotion rather than a desperate kind of concern. "I'm parked just a block away, I... came here for a walk..." Really he had come to the beach to stare at the ocean and sand and see if he could remember that day he gave Amethyst the hollow metal orb, somewhat like a lockbox one could open by pressing a small indentation at the seam. He'd worked hard for most of the vacation, walking the beach and finding small but beautiful little shells. He remembered most of them, small half shells that were pink, little clam-like shells that had a marbled effect or looked as if they glittered in the sun, and one that was pale blue. At the time Logan couldn't help but measure it against Amethyst's eyes. Did he even have them anymore? Perhaps he got rid of them when his own career started taking off. The thought actually hurt, but Logan hid that well. |
(D'aw, the feels. Wonder what would happen once Logan finds out Amethyst threw it into the ocean...?)
"Ah, that's good. My house is a bit further away and I don't have a car," Amethyst said, remembering that his phone was still at the studio. He wondered how many missed phone calls he had from his agent. He rolled his eyes at the thought of Daniel Red, the middle-aged man that pretended to be his friend as he got richer - and fatter. But, he had told the man to leave him alone tonight. It was the anniversary of the day he had let Logan go. The day that he married a woman, who had also been a good friend of theirs. It still hurt to think about it. He wobbled slightly as he made his way out of the tunnel, following Logan back to his vehicle. A million questions rotated in his mind. So many things he wanted to know... But it never seemed like the right time to ask. "So you're back in Devonport?" he asked, breaking up the mixture of their footsteps, breathing and silence that had sprung between them as they walked. He still clasped his hand, wondering how weird it looked that a purple-haired man with blood all over him was walking with someone as normal-looking as Logan. He threw a sideways glance at his old childhood friend. The man he had become was even more rugged and handsome than the teenager he once knew. Some might say that Logan was rather plain, but Amethyst that he was the sexiest thing alive. But, of course, no one knew that he thought that at all. |
Logan was so glad to have found Ami that he almost smiled at his old friend's words, but kept his concern at the front of his mind. Of course he was taking Amethyst to the hospital to avoid an infection, this wasn't some casual get-together that had been planned. He'd have preferred it planned, so they hadn't had to meet again like this. Maybe Logan could have searched Amethyst up before this... Before almost four months had passed and he kept doubting everything. If it might even be worth contacting Ami again. After all, if he'd moved on, he probably wouldn't want something from the past clawing its way back up and dragging him back. He had such an amazing career, after all---Logan often saw him in publishings, magazines, a perfect model. It was a pretty big reason he came back. He was glad when Amethyst spoke, giving a little life to the patter of an infant storm and their own footfalls. "I... Yeah, actually. I came back a few months ago after requesting a transfer..." He put his hands in his pockets, blinking so he wouldn't stare. His friend looked so different from that young kid he'd been at one time. He looked... sad? "Things, uh... didn't work out between Millie and myself... And after the divorce it just felt... strange to stay in Oakland. I thought I'd come back and see how things changed..." And they definitely changed. They rounded a corner, and Logan could see his vehicle---a blue truck whose bed was covered to protect his surplus of art supplies. "It looks like you've really made a name for yourself, Ami." Logan said after a moment. "You... look good." That was an understatement. Amethyst looked amazing, and dare he say, beautiful? No wonder he made it so far in modelling already. Logan hadn't really told anyone about that thought. Especially not Millie. It would have made her feel terrible... And him as well, to admit such a thing without even being able to tell the object of the thought. |
His heart leapt when he heard that Logan had divorced. He had to struggle with himself to not grin and celebrate loudly. Instead, he kept his face placid as they jumped into Logan's truck. It smelt like a mixture of car perfume and paints inside the cab. He smiled now, taking care not to get any blood on the inside. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Millie. You seemed so perfect for each other," he lied, sounding completely sincere.
"Yeah, well... When I left art college, some guy found me and offered me a modelling job. You know how I failed my classes anyway... Well, I was happy to have a job and lately, I've been auditioning to become an actor." He again looked at his friend, longing to touch his face and kiss those lips. So he wasn't married any more... But that also meant nothing. Logan wouldn't want to jump straight into a relationship after a divorce. "What about yourself? What did you end up doing?" he asked, as they had lost contact with each other after college - after the wedding. He returned his attention to his hand, looking at the handkerchief that was already soaked through with his blood. "I hope they don't have to amputate," he joked darkly, flexing his fingers again. |
An actor! That was a big jump. But after a few years of modelling there was no doubt Amethyst had grown more than accustomed to cameras and direction. Logan could see that. Could see his friend in television, movies, shows... Logan would have said so, but his voice caught as he started the car and pulled away, joining some other vehicles as they made their way toward the center of the city. He only hummed in surprise as Ami spoke. He glanced toward his friend, a little damp from the rain that was beginning to fall in thicker sheets. "I... well work for a high-end art design company. I handle big clients with their ad designs, establish forms and commercials for big business... I manage a whole branch now, and paint on my free time." He smiled lightly. It sounded so big, but nothing really compared to moving from model to actor. But it felt like decades during which they hadn't seen one another, even contacted one another. It was like tearing apart a quilt's key components and strewing them everywhere. He chuckled, turning onto a busier street. He could see the hospital's sign farther down the street. "I don't think it'll be that bad." He said easily. "A couple shots to avoid infection, a cleansing, and a bandaging, and it'll be fine." He'd been stabbed by a homeless man before... It was when he'd been starting out on his own, just after his divorce, but before moving to Devonport. He couldn't even recall why he'd been walking through that part of town... |
Amethyst remained quiet as they pulled into the hospital's car park and left the truck, walking briskly towards the hospital's accident and emergency ward. The rain started to pour down harder as they entered the building. They were met with a deserted waiting room and a bored looking secretary at the desk. She glanced at Amethyst's bandaged hand and picked up a phone, calling a doctor to see them straight away.
Amethyst wanted Logan to come with him, but the doctor got the man to fill out a few forms instead. He was taken to a small room and instructed to sit on the bed as they unwound the handkerchief and looked hard at his cut. "You won't need surgery or stitches," the doctor reassured Amethyst, using a cotton swab to sterilise the wound. He bandaged it tightly with some gauze and wrote out a prescription for painkillers and antibiotics. Because Amethyst had recently had a tetanus shot, he didn't need to get another. The doctor released him with confidence that nothing bad would happen, taking the paper work from Logan. "Well, that was good. The doctor said that I should be fine in a couple of weeks. I just have to come in in a few days the get my bandage changed." He waved the piece of paper with his prescription, so that Logan could see. The hospital had its own pharmacist, located around by the main entrance. Amethyst frowned as he looked outside and saw how heavy the rain was falling. |
Logan was so glad to finally get to the hospital. He was sure every minute that passed some horrifying disease was spreading up Ami's arm and through his body like the Black Plague, but it was his perchance to worry over others. Worry that he was hurting someone or ignoring someone or... not being someone a person like Amethyst could rely on. And he hadn't been. Why did they have to go their separate ways? He'd wanted to follow Amethyst to the office, didn't really want to be separate again after having just met him again. But he settled with the technical forms, sitting in the waiting room and using the low table, hiding behind a thick veil of dark blue-black hair that wouldn't stay out of his face as he wrote and checked and finally handed them over to the ER nurse nearby. Now he couldn't stop pacing, staying out of the way but walking back and forth along the wall and running his hands through his hair. It seemed as if it were taking hours... But when Amethyst finally came back, Logan felt an extreme amount of relief, and sighed, nodding as his friend spoke. He would have hugged him if he felt he could. But there was something holding him back. Maybe he was moving too fast after separating from Millie. It had been five months... Breathing out, he followed Amethyst's gaze outside. "Ami, do... do you need anything else? I..." He paused, ignoring the noise all around them. "I'd like to get around to knowing you again... if you're okay with that." Maybe he wasn't. Logan almost sounded desperate, to himself, anyway. models and artists alike tended to prefer to leave their pasts behind in favor of what might propel them forward. |
"Well, I need to go to the pharmacy... And it would be nice for you to drive me home," Amethyst said with a smile, tearing his eyes away from the rain and looking back at Logan. The man seemed... Desperate almost... Or was Amethyst just imaging it. "If you're not doing anything tonight... You're welcome to come to my apartment... I have some good wines and we could catch up."
He hoped that Logan would say yes. He really didn't want to let his friend go again. He remembered the ball full of shells and regretted throwing it into the ocean. He returned his attention to the heavy rain, thinking about his hair, which took hours to get it perfectly straight. He ran his fingers through his purple hair, wondering if Logan liked his new hair colour. His hair was naturally blonde, but he had dyed it for the extra originality as a model. |
Logan smiled---he couldn't help it, the offer was like some kind of light in what had recently been quite a dark time. He'd been sludging through work hours, though it was what he loved to do, after moving here, conflicted in his decision to move back but not willing enough to go anywhere else. "I'd love to!" He said quickly, before he could even begin to form an excuse as to why he couldn't. "It'd be... great... Um, let me go pull the car around to the doors. I have a jacket in the back seat..." He would have to have been blind to not notice Amethyst's new hair color. The way its pale and yet uncouth tone slipped in well with Ami's natural blonde hair. It made him different, and that was probably why he was such a good model. He would be a perfect actor, no doubt, for those eccentric types of characters in those memorable movies that never really faded out of existence. He felt a little plain in comparison as he ran out to the truck and jumped in, wiping his wild hair back and pulling around into the temporary parking just in front of the building, between the ER entrance and the entrance to the pharmacy. He slipped back into the building with the thin but oversized jacket. |
Amethyst wondered why Logan was being so gentlemanly. It was as thought they had fallen out due to bitter feelings and now he wanted to make it up to him. He smiled when he was offered the jacket, holding it over his head as they ran to Logan's truck. They drove around the corner, Amethyst running out to the pharmacist to pick up his prescription, joining Logan a moment later. "I live on Teller Street, it's the big apartment block we used to walk past every day on our way to school." He went quiet and glanced out the window. Why did he have to bring up their past like that? Now he felt awkward.
"Luckily they fixed the elevator... I've been walking up hundreds of flights of stairs for the past month," he was only slightly exaggerating. |
While Ami went in to fill his prescription, Logan stared straight ahead, running his hands through his hair and pushing it back. It just wouldn't stay back, but wasn't necessarily long enough to put in an effective ponytail. He was glad that the temporary loneliness that the silence brought when Amethyst came back, and remembered that apartment Amethyst spoke of. Teller Street was quiet in the evening's rain, and the apartment building was large and redone since his last visit this way. He chuckled. "Well you'd think they could fix an elevator in a place like that." He said simply. "I don't know how you live in an apartment..." It had been a real trip when he had. Nowadays he lived in a quieter area of the city, just on the beach, a quiet house that wasn't too large, but held plenty of his artwork and little studio. He pulled into its parking area and switched the car off, listening to the rain patter on the roof of the vehicle before heading out into the cool, humid evening and booking it to the apartment building's atrium. |
Amethyst wasn't too annoyed at Logan's remark. He had always talked about his disgust of apartment buildings when he was younger. Though he couldn't really call his king's suite an apartment. He hoped that his friend would be pleasantly surprised. He led the man to the elevator, calling it and stepping inside. He pushed the button to the 123rd floor. The elevator was gold and red, with mirrors on the roof and walls. Amethyst glanced at his reflection, shocked to see how pale he looked.
It took awhile to get to the top floor, a moment punctured only by the terrible elevator music that played over crackly speakers. Amethyst led the way from the elevator and towards the door to his home. His condo took the entire top floor of the apartment building, so he had his own high security around the place. They were supposed to make it that the elevator wouldn't go up to the top floor without a key, but they had yet to fix that. Instead, Amethyst unlocked his electronic lock with his fingerprint, then used his keys to open the door. It opened to his grand living area, that had a bar on one end, an entertainment area near one wall and an almost 360 degree view of the city. Two doors led to his bedroom and bathroom. "So, what do you think?" Amethyst asked him, hoping he could impress. |
Logan let Amethyst lead the way this time, having not really been in the building before. It was nice, of course, beautiful, really, but Logan never really liked the whole living-in-a-tower-of-people type of thing, regardless of what floor one may reside on. Perhaps he was just being short-sighted, especially for an artist and designer, because he'd seen plenty of amazing apartments. Those with two floors, airy and beautiful, blank slates of white for an artist to fill to the brim. One could live among people that way, live in a building among others, but be a colorful and unique individual that no one would even expect. He hoped Ami had grown into his own, found his own style, whatever that may be, that didn't follow so many others. But judging by the bright and oddly ethereal tone of his hair, he most certainly had. When Amethyst unlocked the door and stepped in, Logan followed a bit cautiously. But the caution was quickly replaced by a wide-eyed look of appreciation. A little high-class for him, but it was a testament to how well Amethyst had done, how far he'd come since leaving art school. Obviously it hadn't been for him---the young man was just so photogenic. "Amazing, Ami!" He exclaimed, stepping over to where Amethyst had stopped and clasping his hands over his friends'. "Absolutely amazing, I can't believe just how far you've come in such a small amount of time..." He paused. "It's... good you left. Or you never would have found your calling." But it had still hurt, to part ways so suddenly after the wedding. Logan had hardly managed to speak to Amethyst after that. |
Amethyst didn't like how Logan had said what he did, but made no further comment on the matter. It hadn't been a good thing that he stopped seeing his friend, pretending to be called away to France for a year just to avoid seeing him with Millie... It had hurt him when he saw how happy they were and when they kissed, he could have sworn his heart stopped. "Well, you know... Modelling has its perks. I'm one of the best male models in the world, actually..." He smiled softly and blushed slightly, wondering why he had said that. He wasn't trying to show off, after all. He turned quickly and walked towards the bar.
"What's your poison?" he asked his friend, going behind the counter and looking into the two fridges there. "I entertain quite a lot," he added, not wanting to sound like a drunk. "Employers and fellow models... Sometimes celebrities... I met Welbert Uidin at one of my parties... He's a well-known director... Did some pretty good movies... He was the one that convinced me to try acting." He set the little paper bag that had his medication in it on the bench, quickly finding the little bottles and making sure he was allowed alcohol while taking them. |
Logan smiled, following Amethyst but pausing on the other side of the counter, leaning on it and studying his friend. Of course he was one of the best in the world, that was hard to miss. When one was hearing about someone no matter where they went, and actually drawing them for some artistic representations commissioned by certain parties, it was impossible to forget or ignore. "Whatever you'll have, Ami. I'm not picky about my alcohol." He replied in a hopefully eased manner. Logan didn't mind the constant reminders, though, despite it becoming a heavy weight on his mind and destroying his marriage. He concluded, rather haltingly, that it was best, though, that the feelings were acknowledged and he didn't live in a lie forever. And it was better for Millie, too. Now she would have a chance to find someone that would really be able to love her while Logan became entrapped with visions of Amethyst, written and drawn to be produced by big names all over the country, and beyond. It was his work that designed the fliers, the posters, the backgrounds... "I'm not surprised." He commented, finding a stool and sitting. "With how big your name is, I'm shocked they haven't come for you a lot sooner." Logan studied the counter, drawing small swirls with his finger. He wouldn't make a comment about his recent work. Ami wouldn't know who was designing the artistic backdrops to certain photo shoots, the ads that appeared in magazines and papers all over the world. Though the artist always got credit, he used a different name so he wouldn't be followed by odd or shady characters, as was prone to happening for some reason. "I take you've been really doing well, though?" He asked, taking in the area around him with a keen perspective. He could---and probably would---be drawing this scene a lot. Would probably be dedicating his time to drawing portraits of Amethyst from memory, which served a very clear, almost photographic manner. Maybe when the model and soon-to-be actor could be convinced to do some private painting sessions, even. It would be a somewhat innocent reason to spend a little extra time with his longtime friend. |
He grabbed a bottle of gin down from the shelf and set it on the counter, turning his back on Logan briefly to get the soda water from the small bar fridges. He fiddled with the bottle for awhile, unable to open it with one hand and his other starting to ache. "Could you? I'm sorry," he asked, feeling bad for asking his guest to pour them the drinks.
Once the gin and soda water was poured, Amethyst took his in his good hand and joined his old friend on the other side of the counter. "Have you noticed the paintings?" he asked, gesturing to the various artworks hanging on his walls. "They were all done by our classmates..." Of course he had kept one that Logan had painted for him. That one hung above his bed. "And this sculpture was given to me by Sally Mogeld," he pointed to the small marble statue of a featureless man. "It is one of my favourites..." He realised he was going on about himself far too much. He blushed slightly and sipped his drink. He hoped he hadn't sounded too much like a douche to Logan. "I... I am quite popular these days, but sometimes... I wish we could just go back... To the time we used to vacation by the beach..." He blushed deeper and hoped Logan would say something. He turned away and looked out one of the large windows, watching the people on the streets below. He could almost see a pair of teenagers, running past, late for school. One would stop and wait for the other, laughing at how slow he was, but not really meaning it. Amethyst smiled. |
Logan smiled, taking the unopened bottle and obliging Amethyst. He couldn't blame him for not getting a good grasp on the lid with the wound through his palm, and didn't make a big deal out of it as he uncapped the bottles and poured the drinks. It was the least he could do, after all, a sort of obligation for not at least trying to find Amethyst after so long. It was almost like the years of friendship they'd had growing up and in school hadn't even mattered. Maybe Amethyst didn't really seem to mind, but Logan certainly did. At the other man's words he glanced around. he just now noticed the paintings fully, and recognized some of the brushwork from some people he'd lost contact with over time. He hadn't really grown that close with the people in his classes because he'd been so focused on his work, or just keeping Ami as close as he could. A longtime friend like Amethyst was rare and he'd always doubted anyone else could compare. But it was good to see that Ami had kept up with some of them. Or they had kept up with him, but Logan didn't discriminate on which way it was. When Amethyst turned away from him he quickly drank half his glass and set it aside, following the young man with hands half in his pockets. "Seems people aren't lying when they say an adult just wants to be a kid again." He commented, standing next to Amethyst and looking out on everyone below. "I'd like to go back there too. It was easier, then, I think." They didn't have such intricate or heavy jobs, careers that wouldn't say no to an unscheduled day off. Now that he thought about back then, Logan recalled the vacation. When he'd given Amethyst the shells. "Hey..." He tore his eyes away from the sight of the city and looked to his side, where Ami stood. "I know this... might be stupid, but... do you still have those seashells I gave you?" He couldn't doubt they might have been misplaced, lost forever. And he wouldn't blame Amethyst for that. It was a gift from a kid, to a kid. He'd been surprised when Amethyst had kept it as long as he had before they stopped communicating. |
Amethyst's heart lept at the mention of the shells. He moved away from Logan, feeling awkward. What could he tell the man without him seeming like a mean person. He had kept them for all these years... But if he hadn't thrown them into the ocean tonight, he wouldn't have met Logan again.
"I kept them for all these years... To remind me of..." He wanted to say 'to remind me of you', but knew that it would sound to desperate. "Of all the good times we had... As children." He went to the sculpture and ran his fingers over the man's torso. "For all these years... I kept them... And remembered... What you had said..." He sighed and shook his head, finishing the drink and returning to the bar. He could say it now. Confess his true feelings. Perhaps it was the alcohol speaking, making him feel slightly braver than usual. "I threw them away tonight... Because... It hurt me. Every time I saw them, I thought about you... And how..." He felt a lump in his throat and blinked back tears. "How much it hurt you... You never..." He couldn't say it. He swallowed and stared down at his empty glass. "But if I hadn't, we wouldn't have met up again!" He smiled as he turned around, trying to sound happy. "I'm sorry I got rid of them after all this time... But I still have one other thing you gave me..." He went to his bedroom and opened the door, waiting for Logan to join him. He looked up at the painting of him, as done by Logan. Amethyst had volunteered to model naked for the art class that Logan happened to be taking. He was, at the time, slightly shocked and embarrassed to see Logan there. But then he was pleased when he saw his friend's work, and even happier when Logan had given it to him. |
Amethyst sounded so... scatterbrained suddenly. As if a hundred thoughts had suddenly entered his mind and he couldn't get them all out at once. But Logan understood enough---Amethyst had thrown the collection away, into the ocean. The thought itself didn't anger or sadden him as much as the shock that Amethyst had actually kept them as long as he had. And only got rid of them because he... missed Logan? Or at least, the childhood they'd shared. It was a realization that he couldn't fully come to terms with---did he really mean something to Amethyst? Something that would cause him to throw away those beautiful shells that reminded Logan so much of him? It was a bit silly to think like that, perhaps, but Logan couldn't help it. He slid away from the window and followed Amethyst, pausing at the door he opened and stepped through. Before he was able to ask just what Amethyst had kept, Logan saw it immediately, like a focal point of the room. A framed picture he'd drawn of Amethyst. He hadn't adored it, thought it was lacking and could be done much better, though the model for the picture had seemed to love it more than Logan thought he should. He breathed in, settling his leaping heart and glancing around to where Amethyst was. "Ami... You...? I mean, you kept... that? I..." He shook his head, but was smiling nonetheless. "I can't believe you liked it so much, Ami, I didn't... think it was good." He'd done it just after six months, and as such hadn't drawn or painted quite as much as he'd have liked. But there it was... And Logan could see the flaws he'd hated when he drew it originally. Those tiny but obvious things that only the artist himself could ever see because he was looking for them. And here Logan didn't have anything saved from Amethyst... Except memories, of course, memories that didn't need to age or worry about breaking or getting lost. What else could he say, though? Logan was nearly dumbfounded to know that one of his earliest drawings was kept as if it were made of solid gold and etched in platinum. |
Ami longed to be able to push Logan onto his queen-sized bed, to strip the man naked and lay with him, kiss him... Taste him... Feel him... He was glad that it was dimly lit in his room, the only light source coming from the open door and the large windows showing the ocean views he hid from his guests. "It was always perfect. I never understood why you didn't like it... Every day I go to shoots I am airbrushed and forced to wear make up. My final photos are usually photoshopped to look perfect. Only you could capture my true essence... Without censoring my imperfections..."
He smiled and turned to look at Logan again. His hand was starting to sting, so he thought it was best to have a glass of water and take his medication before it got infected or something. "Excuse me," he said, walking past his friend and going back to the bar. He picked up a clean glass and carried it over to the kitchen to fill it up in the sink. He then took the two small pills. After having another sip of water, he returned to stand by Logan's side. |
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