Kate Gregson (
everyone_takes) wrote2012-09-04 11:48 am
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The bookshelf keeps giving her books on drawing. It's sort of annoying, because the very last thing in the world Kate is interested in is drawing. Well, that's sort of an exaggeration. There are probably a few things she's less interested in, like walking on hot coals and shit like that, but if she's going to do anything artistic, it's going to be dancing.
Or makeup. Which she supposes is just drawing on her own face, but it's totally different.
So she's collected the books -- six in all, though the bookshelf tries to give her more -- and she's walking to Harley's place carrying all of them in a pink bag. Which, now that she's almost entirely there, she's realizing probably wasn't the best idea. They're fucking heavy and Chang isn't much of a help, trotting along beside her, occasionally sniffing himself. When she reaches Harley's hut, she's sweaty and she all but throws the bag on the ground.
"Oh, my god, I hope you're home," she groans, loud enough to be heard if he's inside. "I'm just gonna leave this shit here even if you're not."
Or makeup. Which she supposes is just drawing on her own face, but it's totally different.
So she's collected the books -- six in all, though the bookshelf tries to give her more -- and she's walking to Harley's place carrying all of them in a pink bag. Which, now that she's almost entirely there, she's realizing probably wasn't the best idea. They're fucking heavy and Chang isn't much of a help, trotting along beside her, occasionally sniffing himself. When she reaches Harley's hut, she's sweaty and she all but throws the bag on the ground.
"Oh, my god, I hope you're home," she groans, loud enough to be heard if he's inside. "I'm just gonna leave this shit here even if you're not."
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I take a long look at her, wondering if I could even begin to get her right on the page. This newest notebook is filled with sketches of Effy, but they're all fucked up, rushed. It's not like I could ask her to pose. I'd be embarrassed, just sitting there, watching her, like that.
"What was it for?"
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"I was trying to collect this woman's debt and when I finally found her, she'd done all these drawings of this superhero princess and I kind of looked exactly like her," she says. "So she got me to do this stupid fucking music video and paintings and like, go to comic book stores so nerds could pay to have their picture taken with me. It was so much fun at the time."
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I don't do too much of either, but things are different now than they used to be. These days, they aren't half bad.
"What, like with a crown and shit?"
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The Princess seems to have been retired ever since that video of her sitting on a cake showed up on the island.
"I may have... tried to make my own business out of it," she admits. "Getting dudes to buy me stuff. So, I don't know, I'm not exactly excited about the idea of taking her back out again."
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She made her own fucking choices and I shouldn't be pissed off, but I can't help imagining what that would entail. How easy it would be for guys to try and take advantage of her. It isn't the same thing at all, but I still think about Amber and the guys who followed her around, interchangeable assholes. I think about the couch I set on fire.
"What do you mean, business?" I ask tightly. "None of them hurt you, did they?"
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And she was pretty glad that she'd come here instead. That was the sort of thing that would probably end up all over the internet and then she'd regret it, like she did with most of her weird, spontaneous ideas, and it would cause some kind of ridiculous drama.