Waverly Mayfair // D3 // FIN

. waverly mayfair ♕ 17 ♕ district 3 .

"Welcome to my studioooo! wEEEEEE"

I wave my hands quickly from side-to-side at my first ever customer--she's one of my closest friends but she's still a customer nonetheless so shhhhhh--and whip around, dark hair bobbing to and fro as I pretend to be an airplane and run over to my set-up, arms outstretched.

So this is what bliss feels like.

"Get a load of this!" I take the camera off of the tripod and flip it around to show it to her, stars in my eyes and flowers in her hair. UGH, this feels so good. "It has incredible resolution, a polished handling, and FAST. AUTOFOCUS. wHEW, gimme a sec--" Fake faint, one hand over my head and the other trying to reach for a stool that's not there wow I am not actually as close to it as I thought I was whatever keep stepping backwards until you can feel it Waverly--

"You're really fired up about this, aren't you?!"

"RIPRED, don't you know it--"

My own studio.

They got me my own art and photography studio.

How cool is that?

I close thin almond eyes and take a deep breath, sniffing through the nostrils of a flat but prominent nose, sticking out my small lips,

exhale--

"Ohhhh great Ripred, everything is just sooooo riiiight." Pale hands to pale jaw, fingers together and stopping at the cheeks just below white and more dark brown, I look around as I struggle to take it all in. Lilac walls, a lacquered wood flooring, sheer mint curtains and the sun is bathing the room in bright-colored beauty. "Doesn't the air just taste nice?" I laugh because it sounds funny, laugh because it looks true, laugh because it feels like bliss.

Fine ventilation filtering sweet chilly air, pure oxygen when in comparison you step out to warm black smog once you leave this safe haven. It's like water; there's really nothing to it, but even so it still leaves pleasant sensations on your tongue that make you want more.

"How did you get such an amazing present like this for your birthday?"

"By giving up five years' worth of 'em--but I'm telling you, it was worth it."

"...Wow...it sure was, though."

It was a deal between the three of us, a five-year-long deal because I was a spoiled child and ma and dad thought it was high-time I learned how it felt to get what I wanted through hard work instead of having it handed to me in the bat of an eyelash. If I helped out at their cute, local restaurant business for these five years taking orders, bussing tables, and sometimes even pulling the strings in the kitchen, I didn't ask for anything else and I didn't try to take any money from them--I even had to give my own tips to them--they'd buy me a business of my own, of my own interests.

They'll still monitor me and claim ownership of the place for one more year until I'm legally recognized as an adult, and I still have to help out at the restaurant until then, but just getting to have this place all to myself is enough. I don't care if this is for side profit right now, I don't care if I have to wait 365 days to make this a full-blown occupation--this is mine.

All mine.

And it feels like bliss.

I've wanted this since I came to be reaping age. I've always loved photography and artwork, I've always loved capturing moments in real-time and in my head as I remember them. I've always been a dreamer, you know? I put a mood board up in my room five years ago, filling it with art and pictures I made and took to prep me for this day. Balloons floating away at sunset, pastel colors, smiles and laughter, sunshine, lollipops, this cute little coffee shop some girl named Sylvana runs, my parents! My friends.

They evoked the future. They were all my future, and now the future's become the present.

Oh, I love it all. I love everyone. I love this feeling.

It feels like bliss.

"Come on! Let's get started." Giggling, I grab her hand and lead her to the stool. We get into position, muse and artist, snapSNAPclickCLICK and an hour feels like only a few minutes, only a few seconds. "Woooow, check it out." We look at the results behind the tripod and it's just breathtaking. Fingers gripping the brim of her sun hat, earth-tone heels kicked up, sweet candy colors complimenting the room's pale palette and I fall in love all over again with my work, our work, the camera's work with each button press forward and backward.

"You look amazing."

"Oh, shut up, it's all because of YOU! All of this was your idea!"

"But look at your poses! Look at your clothes, look at your face!

Come on, say it.

You look amazinggg~"

Purity with a hint of vanilla from her perfume and soft aesthetic, oh Ripred, please let it be true. Please don't let this be a dream, let it all be reality.

It is.

I know!

I just needed reassurance, because bliss never feels this good without a catch thrown into the mix.

But I think this recipe came out just right.

Before we know it the sun kisses the horizon good night and I shut the doors, but the day's fun doesn't stop there. The moon radiates and so does a canvas adjacent to the foot of my bed as I sit on the carpet, cross-legged, making it glow with color. Strokes and sweeps and splats with a copy of her best shot in one hand and a messy paintbrush in the other, a picture like this doesn't deserve to just be kept safe in time in this one frame.

It deserves to be re-captured, re-imagined all over again.

And warm colors and vibrant skies return to ruling our land when I return with the canvas, now framed, and my good friend with her stylish self and kind smile. She's grinning from ear to ear as I hang the piece above a blush velvet couch. Keep stepping backwards until you can feel her brush up against you Waverly because this came out so much better than you anticipated and you can't peel your eyes away from it--

I clasp my hands together and sigh with satisfaction.

"...It's all because of you."

"You look amazing."

It feels like bliss.