Tag: berrypastelrainbowcy

Riegel: I’m not trying to hurt him, Harmony. 

Harmony: You sure as hell have me fooled. You can’t just keep showing up like this Rieg. 

Cosmo: Harmony–

Harmony: You’ve got to let him move on.

Cosmo: Harmony, stop. 

I say it louder than I meant to and she looks at me in shock.

Cosmo: It’s okay. I’m glad he’s here.

I can see the hurt in her eyes as she looks down at her feet, refusing to look at my face. Her always bright features darken and I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for having hurt her.

Harmony: Don’t come crying to me when he hurts you again.

I know that I should go after her as she storms away, but I can’t move from the spot. I can’t walk away from you. 

Like always, I am weak to you.

My eyes follow her gaze to the bar where you’re sitting and I feel both delight and dread coursing through my veins. It amazes me how you can feel two conflicted emotions at once. 

I can tell you are having some kind of debate with yourself as you stare across the room at nothing, your shoulders slumping as you chew on the corner of your lip. 

It hurts how familiar you are to me even now that we’re strangers. 

Before I can compose myself Harmony is approaching you, the sharp clack of her heels echoing throughout the room. I can feel the anger radiating off of her even with the distance between us.

Harmony: What the fudge do you think you’re doing here?

Riegel: I don’t know, I just thought–

Harmony: You just thought what? That hey, let me just show up whenever I feel like. It’s no big deal. Don’t you know what it does to him every time you do this?

We climb the stairs to the the top floor where a small bar is located. Harmony does the best she can to bring me back to the night and out of the past, telling me little jokes and tidbits that she knows I will enjoy.

Harmony: Yeah, all of the cocktails here are designed to taste like the artist 

Cosmo: That’s awkward. Who wakes up one morning and thinks, “Hey, I wonder what it would taste like if I could drink Henri Matisse?”

Harmony: Well when you say it like that it sounds just horrible.

Cosmo: Am I wrong though?

Harmony stops as we approach the top of the stairs, her forehead creasing. I can feel the air in the room thicken as she crosses her arms over her chest. 

Cosmo: Hey, what’s with the face….?

🎼

“And I hope that you find somebody to love
It’s what you deserve
Someone to adore you more than you know
And you know I’m not her
All I can promise is the worst”

Harmony: Why don’t you tell me about these paintings? They’re places, right?

My heart drops. She must have sensed it because I feel her tense against me, letting out a heavy sigh. 

Harmony: These all have something to do with Rieg, don’t they?

I nod slowly, looking at each one of them closely. They were all places we had talked about visiting, dreams that we had. Dreams that would never happen. There is the sting of tears in the corner of my eyes. I turn to rest my head against her shoulder to hide it.

Cosmo: I’m a mess, aren’t I?

Harmony: Let’s go get a drink. I’m pretty sure there is a bar on the top floor. My treat? We should be celebrating.

Cosmo: That sounds nice.

🎼

“The truth is I’m no good for you
You probably know it by now
But in case you don’t, or you may be forgot
Give me one more chance and I’ll let you down”

Harmony: Fair, but how many berries can even say they’ve gotten this far? Just you watch. Next thing you know you’re going to be the most talked about painter from Waffle Creek to Peanut Brittle Bay. 

Cosmo: One step at a time. I haven’t even sold one yet!

She grins at me, her smile so bright it could fill the whole room. Her slender arms wrap around my waist in a hug and she leans her head against my chest. I take in the smell of her vanilla perfume–gentle and sweet just like her. Sometimes I’m amazed that she even puts up with me. 

🎼

“I watched the cars crash in slow motion
Didn’t look away
Should’ve seen what was coming, you stopped running
But all I know is I chase
I never learned how to stay.”

Cosmo: Somehow it feels much more anticlimactic than I thought it would be.

Harmony: These things often are, but I want you to know, I’m proud of you anyway. You should be proud of yourself too. Not everyone gets to be a big hot shot painter with their

She laughs, tugging on my arm, and I let myself laugh with her. I had almost forgotten what that felt like, to live in the moment. It’s kind of nice.

Cosmo: It’s three paintings… and this gallery isn’t technically in San Maraschino. I hardly call that being a “hot shot.”

Present Day  🎼

“I’m sorry for the things I’ve said
I never meant to break you the way you broke
In a distance over bridges
I hear you calling out through the smoke
And I hold my breath while you choke”

Harmony: Are you nervous?

I give her my best attempt at a smile. She returns it, reaching out and touching my hand gently. Her palms are cold and I wonder if she is just as nervous as I am. The whole thing still feels as if it is happening to someone else–one of those dreams that seem will never happen until the day it does.

Cosmo: I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet.