Content With Redundancy

“Hey do you know where Montigo went?”

My painting partner Isabelle turned away from the chair we were working on and shook her head, “No, I think he just left the room. Why?”

Sighing I set down my baby blue coated paint brush on the rim of the can, “It’s 12:30 and I was planning on taking a lunch break. I wanted to tell him where I was going so he didn’t think I was skipping out.”

Milo Montigo; A small man with the biggest personality I know. He’s the set designer for the current production taking place at the Brick House Theater in downtown Philadelphia. A set designer decides what is going to be made for each scene as well as working with the director to plan out what each individual scene will look like. It’s a pretty big and prestigious job, one which Montigo is very good at. Around the small Philadelphia theater community he is a celebrity and definitely takes advantage of that whenever he can.

“Oh, good idea. I swear he was just around here a second ago…” She stood up from her crouched position and looked around the large spare room we were working in, as well as other various painters, builders, and costumers.

“Looking for Montigo?” A familiar voice said from behind me. Turning around to face him, my dear friend Joshua Tyre was leaning against an old wooden shelf, wearing his usual vest and fedora combination. He was an actor and had a small part in the production we were putting on.

“Yeah, have you seen him?”

He rolled his eyes in disgust and let out a sound of discontent before telling us. “He’s out in the hallway chatting up one of the guys who are building the kitchen set. I swear he hits on anything with a penis that moves, fucking cum guzzler.”

Laughing I shook my head at Josh. “So you’re still not over him are you?” Isabelle asked, recapping the paint can.

Josh just scoffed, “Oh, I am so over him. He just disgusts me now the way he’s all over everyone. He never did know what a ‘personal bubble’ was. Pathetic really.”

“Well, I’m on my way to lunch, anyone care to join me?” I offered, picking up the saturated paint brushes from the drop-clothe covered floor.

“Can’t,” Isabelle replied, picking up the can of paint and setting it on the shelf behind Josh, “I promised Missy I would help her with framing the postcards.”

“Oh that sucks, tell her I said hi!” Isabelle walked away, giving me a thumbs up and “will do”. I turned back to Josh and raised an eyebrow, “So are you in?”

“Anything to get the hell out of here,” He replied, not even looking up from his nails he was inspecting.

“Okay, let me just wash these brushes and hunt down Montigo and we can go.” I walked past him, brushes in hand, and he followed behind me, letting out an aggravated sigh.
“Oh fuck Montigo and just leave.”

In fifteen minutes time we were seated in a booth in the middle of a busy diner. It was only a short walk from the theater and the popular dinning choice for most people who worked there. We were greeted with familiar faces as soon as we walked through the glass door.
We both sat across from each other, sipping our drinks until our meal came, making the casual small talk we always made. It was all going well until Joshua decided to drop the bomb on me.

“So Emmy, tell me; how Lucie has been?” His voice was quiet with concern as he casually stirred his glass of Pepsi with the stripped straw it came with.

All the memories of mine and Bertie’s last visit flooded through my head. Lucie had decided to shave off all that was left of her hair and just wear a wig occasionally. It’s alarming how different someone looks with no hair. Lucie kept talking about the whole decision light heartily, like it didn’t bother her that she had no hair left and that she “looked like an over grown baby”. I knew deep down inside of her she was having a hard time with it though. It isn’t easy to fool someone you’ve known for 25 years.

I drew in a shaky breath as I looked out the large glass window to my left. “She’s hanging in there. Bertie and I visited her Saturday since Bertie hasn’t seen her in a while and all. She decided to cut off all her hair too.”

Josh froze as he looked at me wide-eyed. “What?”

“Yup,” I took a sip of my water and nodded my head, still almost as shocked as Josh was. “All that’s left of it is gone.”

“No!” Josh slammed his hand down on the table in disbelief, earning a couple of weird glances from other diners. “All of it? Every shiny, strawberry blonde lock, it’s all gone?”
I could only nod my head and stare at the table in between us, holding back tears that were beginning to threaten my eyes.

“Tell me she at least got herself a wig.”

A small smile found its way onto my face as I thought about the straight jet black wig that was bobbed at Lucie’s jaw line. It was complete opposite from her natural long, blonde hair. Josh was going to have a fit about it when I told him.

Taking out my phone I pulled up the picture I took of her wearing it and showed Josh, “What do you think?”

His jaw sagged open and he snatched the phone from my hand. “Shut up. She is fucking insane! I could handle it if she went brunette, but black? That’s going too far.” Josh shook his head and handed me back my phone.

I looked at the picture and pursed my lips. “I think it looks good on her, very ‘60’s mod-like.” As I went to lock my phone a new message popped up from an unknown number.

‘Hey Skiffer its Zacky!’

At first I stared at the message, trying to make sense of it, then it all came to me in a wave of confusion. Excitement washed over me as a million thoughts ran through my head. It couldn’t be him, how in the world did he get my number?! Quickly I texted the unknown number back.

‘No fucking way! Is it really you!?’

“Who are you getting all excited about over there Emma? Is it a cute boy?” Josh asked inquisitively. He always hated to be left out of the loop.

“I think it’s one of my best friends from High School…” My answer was distant as I stared at my phone awaiting a reply.

'Hell yeah! How have you been?'

“Is it one of the ones that were in that one band… the one whose name had something to do with time…” Josh pondered, his head leaning on his hand while his fingers played with the slight growth of stubble on his cheeks.

“All Time Low, yeah, his name is Zack.” Quickly I pulled up a picture from Google to show him which one I was talking about.

“Oh!” Josh looked at me with a intrigued look, “He’s cute, is he sing-“

“I don’t know and no he’s not gay so back off.”

‘A lot has been going on lately but it hasn’t been too unbearable. How have you been? The band doing good?’

“Well then, someone’s a bit over protective.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the booth’s heavily padded seat, crossing his skinny arms over his chest.

I just smirked at Josh as the waitress walked over to our table with our orders in her hands.