We All Have Been Degraded

“It’s a quote from Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray.” She said releasing the fabric letting it go back to it’s proper place. “I find it to be quite true.”

“I always thought you’d never have a single tattoo.” Tim said quite obviously amused.

Lynn laughed. “Well I wont have a single tattoo for long I have another quote already picked, sir.”

“What’s the next one going to say?” John asked curiously trying not to focus so hard on her.

She turned her gaze on him, made it an intense gaze he couldn’t escape no matter how hard he tried. “‘Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.’”

Hearing all these cynical things come from the mouth of the girl he’d always wanted made him reach for a bottle to try to ignore it with inebriation.

“Well, isn’t that terrifying.” Tim jokingly interjected.

As John took another deep drink from the bottle with the amber colored liquid that burned the whole way down.

“So what have you been doing in New York aside from getting tattoos and college?” Kenny asked with polite curiosity.

She chuckled lightly and leaned up against the wall behind her tucking her free arm behind her head. “More drinking than anything. Modeling quite a bit too.”

John looked at her and wanted nothing more than to pin himself against her scantly clad figure.

“You’ve been modeling?!” Sky said excited for her friend’s accomplishments. “Where are the pictures?”

“Most are in the middle of being picked up by magazines and whatnot one of them ended up in Vogue, it’s just a small little article about the photographer but just the same.”

Sky really had just meant her portfolio, the fact she was talking about her face in print all over the country was more than just shocking. “Oh my God Lynn that’s amazing!”

“Yeah and I did a few runway shows fashion week. The money is amazing.” The bottle in her hand that wasn’t behind her head made it’s way back to her lips.

“Wow and all we did was school and party.” Tim joked.

She chuckled, “Yep, and I did all that and more. My teachers second semester hardly saw my ass.”

They didn’t ever expect that. “Little good girl Lynn Larson skipping class.” John put his cocky face back on knowing that would be all he had in his arsenal to use against Lynn. “I bet there are people who’d pay money to see that.”

Her eyes lit up with a fire he remembered. The fire that told him he was getting to her. “Maybe,” She started with a voice he’d never heard from her before. Something totally sexually driven. “I’m not such a good girl. Weren‘t you the one that theorized that in high school.”

Not a single person in that room could fathom that before it was said. They knew Lynn as Bree Van Decamp, queen of denial and avoidance but the way she spoke made her more like queen of shamelessness.

***

In her literature class they were studying Irish playwright Oscar Wilde. They were only in the first few weeks of school Mariella wasn’t taking the class but she came in to check it out and see if she wanted to take it next semester. The way she spoke of the way the Professor spoke of Oscar Wilde like he was a friend of the long dead genius. The professor was in love with the hiply cynical Wilde’s words.

Lynn and Mariella sat there in pjs listening to him talk of the naiveté of Dorian Gray when he first arrived to London.

Lynn looked over to Mariella. “You’re Basil.”

Mari looked at Lynn in question, she hadn’t read The Picture of Dorian Gray.

“Well just the friend aspect, he was kinda obsessed with Dorian and I don’t see that from you for anyone.” She continued softly still not clarifying it for Mari.

“Well at least you think I’m not obsessive.” She whispered back displaying her confusion more clearly hoping Lynn would explain herself.

“Keep listening.” She assured as she returned her attention to the professor.

“The whole story opens with Lord Henry and Basil though. Harry a bold man who speaks surely and with flare telling of all his eccentric cynical beliefs. Basil an artist with a kind heart and passion like no other. They’re opposite ends of the spectrums but old friends just the same.”

At least Mari knew who Lynn had been talking about.

They were all learning truly of what it is to be thrown into Oscar’s Dorian Gray. They were all learning it from the different perspectives.

What’s worse was Dorian was oblivious going in how degraded his soul was to become but Lynn knew the story and she knew where she stood. Yet, she couldn’t re-write the brilliant man’s work even in her own life.

***

He didn’t know how to respond to that. ”So are you wasting your time in New York?” He can’t imagine living on the other side of the country going to a top of the line college and partying instead of attending. He knew local college wasn’t for him and left.

Her eyes turned cold. “'Intellect in itself is a mode of exaggeration.'” She quoted Dorian Gray once more before walking out of the room as if saying draw your own conclusions.

That was Lynn first Arizona party where in the end she didn’t wake up next to John.

Not to imply she woke up alone. Her head throbbed as she stirred to consciousness. The open curtains were too much for her she wished for a perfectly dark room. When she rolled to look at the ceiling she caught sight of the boy in bed next to her.

She sighed and knew she had to get out of that bed before he woke up and thought he’d get to be the one to leave and she’d be the one laying there wondering what happened. She knew that wasn’t her style in this game.

She got out of the bed using all her available focus -for that time in the morning- in not waking him as she hurried at finding her clothes and throwing them on. Thankfully her hangover shades managed to make it to that room with her that night. Then she was out of that door with her head held high just like she was back on the runway.

Her shoes could be heard when they hit the tile in the kitchen as the sound was all gone from the night before and that clacking sound had to fill that void.

She was the first one awake the kitchen was still in disarray from the night before.

There were boxes of cupcakes from some fancy bakery on the island in the middle of the kitchen surrounded by various empty bottles. She figured they’d be empty but she opened them just trying her luck.

Inside the third box she found a single red velvet cupcake and decided her luck served her once again and grabbed it claming it as her own.

Red velvet cupcakes were her favorite to look at, her least favorite to eat. Not because she didn’t like them because she found them to be delicious beyond explanation but because she found them so pretty. That red struck a chord with her. It was such a rich plush sort of red that she just wanted to savor.

But given the circumstances she had no other option.

Two bites in a new sound filled the void.

“I thought models didn’t eat.” John’s voice rang from the doorway.

Her eyes rose to meet his. She smirked and popped herself back up to sit on the counter and slowly crossed her legs. “Darling I’m not most models. I have a flat toned stomach, round breasts, hips, and butt. Most models would be flat all the way across the board….Much like a board actually.”

He couldn’t help but to stare at her after that comment. “Touché.”

Silence filled the room again.

After finishing her cupcake she hopped off the counter in search of something else.

She went in the fridge and pulled out one of the few remaining beers and popped it open maintaining her lack of shame.

She turned back to John who was still staring at her and leaned back against the fridge. “Talk if you’re going to stare.”

He couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the girl who got on that plane a year ago.

“Cupcakes and beer? Breakfast of champs?” That was the most clever thing he had up his sleeve.

She chuckled just the same. “Perfect hangover avoidance breakfast. Cake is like bread will absorb anything extra hanging out in your stomach and the beer makes your body hate you a little less for the moment.”

“The hair of the dog that bit you last night?” He reminded her of the good old phrase that everyone knew but still seemed to need to be voiced.

“I guess so.” She spoke softly letting the bottle return to her lips.

As the quiet consumed the air John was driven insane and had to say something.

“Tell me something no one really knows.” He softly requested. He couldn’t be bold and loud.

“I hate Pour Some Sugar On Me when I’m sober.” She spoke honestly connecting her eyes to his drenched in apathy. She could spill her soul without a feeling, she’d found just the right amount of alcohol consumption to keep her comfortably numb.

He laughed he didn’t notice the ease honest answers just poured from her. It was a favorite of hers he’d assumed. “You’re kidding.”

“I only like it when I’m drunk.” She quickly finished her beer and threw it out. “I’m in dire need of a shower. Excuse me.”

With that she walked out with all the grace you’d expect of every model.

If this was a year ago, he’d have followed her up the stairs and climbed right in with her.

Honestly she was almost shocked he didn’t.

John grabbed a bowl of cereal and plopped himself into a chair. He just let himself get lost in his thoughts as he ate.

He didn’t even notice as Aurora came in grabbed herself some grub and took the seat across from him.

“Yo! Johno!” It took her several tries to get his attention before just shouting at the guy across the table. “What’s with the long face? … Well longer than usual.” Then came her sarcasm even in the morning.

His head jerked up. “Ugh… Nothing really.” He spoke quite weakly.

“Yeah, that’s convincing.” She muttered. “This is about Lynn isn’t it?”

He shook his head wishing all his thoughts away not like it would help. “Yeah, I don’t know how I feel about how she’s changed.” It was a morning of honesty.

Rora looked at him skeptically. “Why because she doesn’t fall for your stupid tricks anymore? Jesus John what the hell?”

He looked up at her hardly believing the response. He was honest an vulnerable and she just shot him down like that. “Aurora what tricks did you see me trying to play last night? It’s been a year, if she can change so can I! My old tricks weren’t me anyways. You should know me better than this Rora K. Actually no you wouldn’t you’re just Pat and Tim’s sister, oh and don’t forget Kenny’s girl.” He got up in a roughly shoving the chair back into place. “I’m out of here. I’ll see Tim and Pat later.”

She always told John how it was but he never acted like that. No ever said that she was just someone’s girl or just the sister. She hated that. John was her friend too, once upon a time.

Sky woke up cuddled next to Tim -quite innocently of course- and looked up to that tan face above hers happy. Contently she closed her eyes attempting to make it last.

At least someone’s day was starting off better than expected as opposed to worse.