Living In a Place Where Soul Meets Body
living in a place where soul meets body 2
My brow puckered in concentration as I entered the store. Gloss. It was splashed across the doors, wall and every single product. Gloss yourselves ladies! It kind of disgusted me. This place had no right to tell women that they didn’t look good and weren’t beautiful just as they are. It was easy to see that this was not my workplace of choice, but I was good at it and that was what counted.
The bell tinkled as I stepped through the air-conditioned door. “Hello Miss Riley!” My too gay to be true manager greeted me. “Hey Miles. Am I on cash register duty today or am I on the chairs?” I asked, not really caring either way. “Oh no honey. The cash register is for the new girl, a freshman I think. You’re on the chairs from now on.” He told me with a glint in his eye. He loved when I was on the chairs. Said I was better with a makeup brush then anyone else. The thing he didn’t realize was that a paintbrush was much more my forte. No one knew this of course. No one could. The artist physique was hidden deep inside me, buried away beneath everything everyone else thought I should be. So the faces of customers became my canvas. People came to me to look unique, special, out there. Everything they weren’t in reality.
“Bye Miles.” I shouted on my way out. Work had been the same as usual. Paint on some eyeliner, blush and lip-gloss and my customers were happy. It was vein really, but I wasn’t one to judge. I based my life around conforming to the common idea of perfection.
I slid into an alley, I needed the privacy, and snapped my fingers. My form immediately changed into one I was most comfortable in. Auburn waves cascaded down my back, reaching the bottom of my bra strap. I was dressed in faded black skinny jeans and an electric blue torn tee shirt. the collar line used to be up to my neck, but I had issues with it so I cut it to the shoulder seam on one side, leaving the sleeve to hang down a bit on my arm, and the other side to sit precariously on my shoulder. Peacock purple converse cased my feet. Once I was done nitpicking the outfit, making sure it hung the right way, I pulled out my compact. My eyes were done up in smoky grey shadow and black liner went all the way around. A slight blush on my cheeks was noticeable and bright red lip stain completed the look.
It was odd. As far as I knew, I was the only person able to change my appearance on command. I simply picked out the look in my head and snapped my fingers. I reasoned that it was because I was able to control my emotions that I was able to have this gift and no one else knew what I was capable of.
I walked out of the alley and onto the street. No one from school ever saw me like this, so they wouldn’t recognize me. I walked, my hips swaying back and forth as I turned the corner and entered the art store. The bell rang as I opened the door. “Hey Carson!” I was here so often that a few of the workers knew me. But when asked, I gave out my middle name not wanting anyone to even guess that I was also Riley Watts. “Hey Ashton. Did you get the new shipment?” I inquired of the boy with shaggy brown hair that almost covered his lively green eyes. “Yeah. It came yesterday.” He told me, pointing to a section in the store reserved for specialty brushes. I walked over and started grabbing. I couldn’t wait to try these out!
The bell tinkled as I stepped through the air-conditioned door. “Hello Miss Riley!” My too gay to be true manager greeted me. “Hey Miles. Am I on cash register duty today or am I on the chairs?” I asked, not really caring either way. “Oh no honey. The cash register is for the new girl, a freshman I think. You’re on the chairs from now on.” He told me with a glint in his eye. He loved when I was on the chairs. Said I was better with a makeup brush then anyone else. The thing he didn’t realize was that a paintbrush was much more my forte. No one knew this of course. No one could. The artist physique was hidden deep inside me, buried away beneath everything everyone else thought I should be. So the faces of customers became my canvas. People came to me to look unique, special, out there. Everything they weren’t in reality.
“Bye Miles.” I shouted on my way out. Work had been the same as usual. Paint on some eyeliner, blush and lip-gloss and my customers were happy. It was vein really, but I wasn’t one to judge. I based my life around conforming to the common idea of perfection.
I slid into an alley, I needed the privacy, and snapped my fingers. My form immediately changed into one I was most comfortable in. Auburn waves cascaded down my back, reaching the bottom of my bra strap. I was dressed in faded black skinny jeans and an electric blue torn tee shirt. the collar line used to be up to my neck, but I had issues with it so I cut it to the shoulder seam on one side, leaving the sleeve to hang down a bit on my arm, and the other side to sit precariously on my shoulder. Peacock purple converse cased my feet. Once I was done nitpicking the outfit, making sure it hung the right way, I pulled out my compact. My eyes were done up in smoky grey shadow and black liner went all the way around. A slight blush on my cheeks was noticeable and bright red lip stain completed the look.
It was odd. As far as I knew, I was the only person able to change my appearance on command. I simply picked out the look in my head and snapped my fingers. I reasoned that it was because I was able to control my emotions that I was able to have this gift and no one else knew what I was capable of.
I walked out of the alley and onto the street. No one from school ever saw me like this, so they wouldn’t recognize me. I walked, my hips swaying back and forth as I turned the corner and entered the art store. The bell rang as I opened the door. “Hey Carson!” I was here so often that a few of the workers knew me. But when asked, I gave out my middle name not wanting anyone to even guess that I was also Riley Watts. “Hey Ashton. Did you get the new shipment?” I inquired of the boy with shaggy brown hair that almost covered his lively green eyes. “Yeah. It came yesterday.” He told me, pointing to a section in the store reserved for specialty brushes. I walked over and started grabbing. I couldn’t wait to try these out!
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sorry its short!