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James
The water lapsup against the sand as I make a quick mark with my brush. I smile at the sloppy line as I get a little more color on it and add some more to the canvas.
This isn’t my normal style of painting. I usually go for the cityscapes, more abstract, more emotion and excitement. I’m not usually one for these Bob Ross-style impressionistic wet-on-wet nature scenes, but it’s actually really relaxing.
The other guys are mostly still asleep. The house is a little beat up from the party last night, but I’m feeling good. I didn’t bother drinking too much, since I wasn’t exactly trying to get laid.
I understand why Henry wants to have his little contest. He doesn’t get to hang around with the guys as much as he wants to. Although he’s filthy rich now, the guy works hard, and he rarely takes any time off. He’s either working on his crypto trades or helping out at one of the charities he’s helped found in the last few months.
He’s trying to recapture some of the lost glory days. I make a little zag and add some more color to the canvas, trying to get my waves looking just right.
Personally, I don’t need to recapture anything. I try and live in the moment as much as possible, and I don’t miss what’s gone, I don’t have any regrets. Except for maybe last night.
I shouldn’t have walked away from Emily. She’s the first interesting person I’ve met in a long time. It’s a shame that she’s Henry’s sister, although they barely know each other. He’s super protective of her, but I think that’s mostly just because he thinks he has to be. Henry has these old-fashioned ideas of what it means to be a man and a brother, and sometimes it can get a little annoying, but he means well.
I glance back at the house and I spot something moving around. The back door slides open and Emily steps out. Her blonde hair blows in the wind and she tucks it back behind her ear, walking out toward me in some floral print shorts and a white V-neck shirt.
I watch her come with a little smile on my face. I know that she’s thinking about us, I can tell by the way she looks. It drives me crazy that all the guys want her as much as I do, although none of them have admitted it yet. Personally, I’m not the type to pretend like I don’t want something when I do, and I always go after it. Emily’s no exception.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey, yourself.” I cock my head and smile.
“That’s really good.” She bites her lip and crosses her arms, looking at my canvas.
I look at the painting. “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m honestly just messing around.”
“It’s really amazing,” she says. “I mean, being able to do something like that.”
I shrug and put my brush down. I hang my palette off the easel and sit down in the sand.
Emily sits down next to me.
“Anyone up yet?” I ask her.”
“Not yet,” she says. “I think that girl slept over with my brother.”
“Oh yeah?” I laugh a little bit. “Good for him.”
“None of the others are up yet though.”
“They’re on vacation.” I shrug a little and lean closer to her. She doesn’t shy away.
“You’re on vacation too,” she points out.
“Oh, I’m an early riser.”
She makes a face. “Aren’t artists supposed to like, stay up all night making art and doing drugs? Sleep all day, like a creative vampire or something?”
I laugh at that. “You’re not wrong. I mean, that’s the cliché, right? But that’s not my thing.”
“You want to be different,” she states.
“Maybe,” I say. “I just work better in the morning.”
She laughs at that. “Yeah, me too, actually.”
“Is that why you’re awake? Busy at work?”
