4. Verena
4
VERENA
Ten Months Later
“Ugh, no! It’s all wrong.” I huff, throwing my paintbrush on the ground. The first week of my junior year and I already feel like I’m losing my mind.
Why did the introductory assignment for a contemporary art class have to be so frustrating?
Create a piece that shows your personality and passion. The piece must represent who you are as an individual and exhibit at least four principles of art.
I know it's not actually that difficult, but every bit of my individuality went out the window after Ronnie died. It’s strange, you’d think I would’ve just grown into something different, but you would be so fucking wrong. Ronnie passed, and I didn’t know who I was anymore. I second-guessed everything I did, from the clothing I wore to the air I breathed.
Grief is a bitch and it can choke on the fattest fucking cock there is.
Picking my brush up, I sit up straight and plaster a disingenuous smile on my face. Fake it until you make it, right?
Wrong. So wrong. This painting can’t be saved. It’s muddy and sad and miserable.
On second thought, this would represent me as an individual and I’m debating on turning in this absolute pile of shit.
“I give up!” I exclaim, admitting defeat and carrying my brushes and paints to clean and store them away. Turning back, my eyes catch one last glance at the monstrosity I created. They roll so hard at the sight, I swear they almost get stuck.
Storming out of the art studio and into the fresh, dewy air, I take three deep breaths before heading out. My phone pings and I reach for it, hoping it's someone, anyone who’s willing to provide me with an escape from my unfortunate reality.
Aspen
Hey babe, RSB party tonight. You in, right?
Me
Abso-fucking-lutely. I was just praying for a stress reliever. Are you…God?
Aspen
More like Persephone but less Queen of the Underworld. That’s your realm. I’m leaning more towards the Goddess of Spring.
Me
Makes total sense. I’ll see you back at the house in a bit for pregaming.
Aspen
Yes ma’am!
Opening the front door, I’m met with loud music. No one notices as I close the front door and sneak into my room. I just need a moment to myself before having to put on the mask of Miss Carefree.
It doesn’t take long for the patter of footsteps to follow my movements and a familiar voice to speak through the door. “I heard you come in!” Aspen sings as she lightly taps on my door. Fuck. My estimation skills are way off. I thought I had at least two minutes before she noticed I was home. It hadn’t even been thirty seconds!
“Hey, I’m hopping in the shower so I’ll come find you when I’m ready,” I respond, hoping to get her off my tail for just a few more minutes.
“Oh, how perfect! I was just going to suggest a little hotbox sesh before the other girls get home?!” She asks brightly, and how can I say no to that? Aspen is not a stoner. She is not a smoker, toker, or pothead of any kind. Unless it’s a special occasion. I’m sure the first RSB house party of the school year equates to a special occasion in her mind.
But I’m afraid she’ll see my bruises and ask questions I don’t feel like answering. But I never turn her down to smoke, so if I do that now, she’ll ask questions, anyway. I need to be smart about this.
“Yeah, I’ll roll one up. Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.” I say, making my way to my nightstand. Within a couple of minutes, a new joint is rolled and I’m undressed by the shower. Turning on the water, I step in while it’s still cold and call Aspen.
The cold water sends jolts throughout my body, sparking a second wave of energy in me. Goosebumps break out on my skin from head to toe, and it feels as if my muscles go numb. I take choppy deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart from the slight shock it just went through.
My art project is draining me and things are still a bit rough with Leo. Stress and contusions have taken over my life and cold showers have been proven to help with both, so let’s put this bitch to the test.
Aspen and I pass the joint back and forth a couple of times. With each pass, I’m careful to use the same non-bruised arm, mindful not to alarm her of my situation. Shortly after, Aspen taps out, and leaves the bathroom. Smoking the rest of the joint, I put it out in the mini ashtray on the ledge of the shower. Yes, I have an ashtray in the shower. Can’t smoke in public areas and the shower isn’t all that bad or uncommon. Moving on.
Rinsing my hair once more, I turn off the shower and peek outside the curtain, double-checking that Aspen is gone. I snatch the black towel from the counter, wrapping it around myself before dashing back to my room.
I lock the door, quickly dry my body, and throw on the first outfit I find in my closet. Thank fuck for matching sets, because they make my life a whole lot easier.
It’s one of my favorites, a velvety two-piece, pants, and a tank top with a mesh long-sleeve underneath. I slip on my beloved chunky black platform boots. The mesh paired with the tattoos that litter my arms make it harder for my bruises to grab the attention of my peers.
Aspen’s music booms throughout the house and I feel the vibrations from my room. The blunt helped to calm my nerves and I know she’ll be calling me over soon to start drinking. Softly singing along to the music, I sort through my mostly silver accessories, looking for the perfect pieces to match my outfit. Earrings decorate the edge of my ears from diamond studs to miniature weed leaves and simple hoops.
An hour later I emerge from my room, my inky hair is straightened and my makeup is smokey and dark. I look so fucking good, but I wish I felt better. About myself. About my life.
Sighing, I put on yet another fake smile, and walk out into the kitchen area where Aspen is dancing and mixing drinks. “I’m just finishing up our drinks!” She squeals, adding a pineapple wedge to the rim of the glass.
I raise my eyebrows, impressed with her presentation, “Fancy! Thank you!” Her feet lightly pad out of the kitchen and I guzzle down the drink.
“I’m going to get ready with Blair, but we shouldn’t be too long. Leave in an hour or so?” She asks, disappearing down the hallway.
“Yep! Sounds good. I’ll be here.” I say and gulp down the rest of my beverage. The buzz of mixed vices is euphoric and makes life bearable. If only feeling this good was an option all the time.
Another hour passes and the girls, including Lorelei, our fourth roommate, finally make their grand entrance into the kitchen. Dressed and ready to go, we take back another shot and get ready to head out.
It’s not a long walk to the party, about fifteen minutes later we’re rounding the corner, the vibrations of the music shaking the whole block. Blair, our newest roommate, questions who lives here and Lorelei gets her tits in a twist over her lack of knowledge. To be fair, she’s been here for a fucking week. I wasn’t exactly excited for a new roommate either, but hell, she’s quiet and keeps to herself, mostly.
A small pang thumps through my chest as I realize I wasn’t as welcoming as I could’ve been. Should’ve been. All because of my personal problems that she most certainly was not the cause of.
Be better, V. Don’t turn into him.
We enter the house and Aspen and Blair head to the kitchen for more drinks, while Lorelei trails off to go find her prey of the night. I do my best to blend in with the walls, hoping to be noticed by one person and one person only. Stealing glances around the room, I bob my head and sway to the music to not look too awkward. I spot a couple of fellow art students and we discuss the latest project.
That’s when I feel him .
The hairs on the back of my neck stand tall and goosebumps trail down my arms.
My eyes scan the living area as I try to locate him. And when I do, I wish I didn’t.
Grimm. This is his house after all, so I fully anticipated him being here. What I didn’t anticipate was seeing a replica of me hanging on his arm. Black hair, dark eyes accentuated by thick black liner, the details are there, down to the olive skin tone. I also didn’t anticipate the jealousy that shot into my chest when I saw them together, either.
Well then, I guess I’ll be ending my night early.
Heading towards the door, I look back for a split second and his eyes catch mine. My feet stop dead in their tracks and I’m unable to move or speak, completely trapped by the hold of his gaze on mine. It feels like everyone else fades away for a moment as we stare at each other. Using the entirety of my strength, I pull my eyes from his and continue weaving through the crowd when a strong hand catches hold of my arm.
Turning around, I see those deep, rich chocolate eyes staring back at me. Eyes that I’m instantly hypnotized by. A beautifully straight smile stretches across his lips, causing dimples to form on either side of his expression. My thighs clench at the sight and I gulp, attempting to regain at least an ounce of my composure.
Damn, he is beautiful.
“Hey V, how was your summer?” He asks. His gravelly voice is like a defibrillator, shocking my heart and sending electric currents throughout my body, reviving me. “I haven’t seen you around much. I’ve been missing you.”
Did I hear that right? He misses me?
“It was alright. I’ve just been working a lot.” I respond, unsure of how much detail to provide. That wasn’t true. Leo didn’t want me working. In his words, he has the means to take care of us, so I don’t have to lift a finger. Instead, I spent the majority of time inside his apartment reading, writing, and painting.
Don’t get me wrong, I love having so much time to focus on my craft, but at what cost? The inability to be a functioning member of society? It’s not ideal, but I know Leo loves me and wants to support me. His way of going about things isn’t as gentle as your average person, but no one is perfect and if you love someone, you need to work through those bumps together.
The last year replays through my mind in an instant and a single thought it left within the blackness follows:
How many bumps and bruises do I have to withstand until I’m truly happy with him?
An awkward silence passes between Grimm and I before he speaks. “You look like you could use a distraction. We can ditch these losers and head upstairs. We’ll get high off our asses and no one will even notice we’re gone.”
His hand is still gripping my arm as he tugs me towards the staircase. “I don’t know. What about your…friend?” I ask, trying to not be obvious, but it’s obvious I’m definitely probing.
His smile seems to grow at my words and for a moment, I wonder if my jealousy was loud and clear. “I don’t even know her name. Won’t be seeing her again.” Grimm chuckles ascending the staircase. He slides his hand to my palm and interlaces our fingers as he guides me to his room.
The ping of my phone draws my attention and when I open the message, my heart sinks.
Leo
Trip got cut short. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.
My buzz is starting to wear off, causing the reality of life to seep back in, so a distraction of any kind sounds perfect.