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[Here's what I can do when I really have something to say. Word count: 824]
Austin threw his work vest over his shoulder, stepping out of the car and into the blustery winds of a late-October night. Flipping the set of keys in his hands, he locked his car and slipped back into the house, into a quiet darkness and dully-lit kitchen. Of course, one loyal member of the family was up waiting for him as always, surrounded with piles of sketchbooks and loose-leaf paper. Melissa tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, perking up as she heard the door close. "Hey, Austin," she said, blinking to refocus her vision as he stepped closer to the table. "You're home earlier than usual..."
Austin grimaced at that, pulling up a chair beside her and propping his feet on a clear space on the table. Melissa scowled at his bare feet, but stayed silent, apparently waiting for an explanation. He sighed, and folded his work vest on his lap, muttering, "The boss noticed I wasn't really focused. I dropped at least three plates and nearly misplaced someone's order." He was a waiter at the semi-fancy restaurant in a busier section of town--while he enjoyed his job, the food, and the ensembles that came every night to play, his mind just wasn't in the right place. He couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow afternoon, what the hell he was going to do for a couple of hours alone with some guy he could barely stand and kept picturing in a fluffy pink dress. It was utterly bizarre. It was terrifying. He hadn't spared this much attention to even girls he found attractive, like the blonde waitress who usually managed seating. Even she had questioned his behavior, when he was normally impeccable at catering to guests, his head was "clearly in the clouds." The thought that he'd been so distracted was horrific. He was ashamed to be sent home two hours before his shift ended.
Melissa seemed sympathetic, closing her sketchbook with a flick of her wrist and pushing aside the mess. "I'm sorry," she said, in a rare show of honesty. "You... wanna talk about it?" They both knew that Austin would never, ever discuss something as trivial as the way he felt--he blamed all emotions on stress levels and weakness, in typical, typical male fashion. "... Hey, Mel?" he asked instead, shifting in his seat to face his sister more directly. She, too, turned in her chair, looking warily in his direction and probably assuming that maybe, just maybe, he'd reached a breaking point. "What's your favorite fairytale?"
Oookay, her face seemed to say, maybe we're talking about another breaking point. "What?" she asked dubiously.
"I'm serious. Favorite fairytale."
Seeing the seriousness on her brother's face, the teen rolled her eyes but seriously considered the question. "Princess and the Frog," she declared, crossing her arms over her chest. Austin snorted. "That's a Disney movie, that doesn't count--"
"Does too!" Melissa glared at him, daring him to challenge her. He recognized that look very well, and smirked, daring her to explain. "Well... okay, look. I like Tiana. She and Mulan are the only princesses I could ever stand. The point is... She got a prince, but she didn't drop her dreams because she was royalty. The whole time she was thinking about her restaurant and achieving her goals through hard work and she did it. Never asked for help. Never whined when s**t went down." Austin jokingly put on a shocked face at her crude language. Mel stuck her tongue out. "And... I dunno. She kinda reminded me of you."
"I... remind you... of a black girl from the bayou." He was teasing her, and she knew it.
"Not cool, bro. I'm serious. I mean, you're always so hard working, and the two of you are hella narrow-minded, and stubborn, and..." Mel's voice softened, and she stared at him for a long moment. "The moral of the story was that you have to work hard, but you also have to enjoy the curveballs life throws at you. You don't know what you have until it's too late, so keep an open mind."
There was a tender side to Melissa, an artist's heart. Austin smiled faintly, and pushed his legs off the table. "Alright, kiddo. It's getting late. You're getting loopy. Go to bed, you hear me?" Melissa groaned in exasperation, shoving his chest. "What ever, Austin. God, you can be such a d**k." She ruffled his hair as she moved to the staircase, muttering a soft goodnight.
"Love you too, baby sis," he replied, his smile widening. He leaned back in his chair, a frown quickly creasing his brow. Work hard, but enjoy life's curveballs? That was a strange moral if he'd ever heard one. But then, Melissa was only fourteen, not a sage. He shook his head and followed up the staircase, turning off the kitchen lights as the clock ticked closer to that inevitable tomorrow.
 Felix-Fiasco · Fri Aug 12, 2011 @ 05:25am · 0 Comments |
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