theatrical_muse #201: Talk about something you lost
The door slid open and shut very nearly soundlessly (it stuck and squeaked only a bit when it started to open and started to close), and Adonna sighed, disposing of her hotel uniform on a chair and padding into the next room where she knew Benry would be, no doubt, using up their money with useless supplies and alcoholic beverages.
Some things never changed.
He was hunched over a canvas on the floor, not having bothered to first cover the carpet with anything to protect it from splatters of paint. His arm made a few quick movements before he reached over to his paints to mix up a new colour. A few other canvases were propped up on the other chairs about the room, some of them unfinished (and probably to remain that way), some she assumed he would go out and attempt to sell off later.
"You've certainly been right at it all today." She didn't mean to startle him, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
His head snapped up, then turned to her. He hopped to his (bare) feet and eyed her up and down before approaching to hug her. "Rough day, Donna?"
She let him hug her but wrinkled her nose. "That stench--that'd be you?"
"I only had a couple drinks today!"
"No, you. They might be able to catch whiff of you five levels up."
"I'll clean up once I'm done this one."
"No, you won't."
Benry let her go and cocked his head. "Hey--the attitude's for what now?"
She shrugged and headed for the bedroom. "Here's a mess. The entire place. You can get to cleaning the rest up."
He wasn't sure what she was getting at and awkwardly followed. "Then...I'll do that, too. I'll get the whole place tidied and polished if you're wanting just that."
"Not just that," she snapped, spinning on her heel. "Everything. If I want anything spitshined, taking a look about your life could work."
"My life? The hell's that mean?"
Despite the fact that he wasn't as of yet getting hostile, she couldn't help but raise her voice. "All and every day, I'm working my arse off at a place I don't expect I'll ever want to be; it's all I can be doing to even get us food instead of passing out in bed. You do nothing!"
"That's not right," he replied, pointing a finger in her face. "I am trying."
"Nobody buys the damned things, Ben. Nobody's liking them. Just because you're making shapes with colours doesn't make it art. I bring the money; you spend it." When she turned again, he grabbed her arm. "You're hardly taking care of yourself! I've done it all! It's been all year, Ben; when's it planning on happening?"
"Donna, listen, I know my art's going to be appreciated one of these days--and it doesn't even have to by you. I get some cash now and then from someone who likes a piece. I'm not completely lacking use."
"That's fooling me."
"Don't start this."
She pulled her arm away. "It started since I left mum and dad's for you."
"And that's reason for regret?"
"I didn't say I regret it..."
"Then what? I'm suddenly not best for you? Two years. We've been in love for--"
"Two and a half," she quietly corrected.
"Exactly my meaning. Does it mean nothing?"
"Ben. Please. I was so much in love with you then."
"Was?" he baulked.
"And I still am, if only you'd get this all sorted out. This isn't much of a life, and if it's all going to fall on me--one year of living here, and nothing's changed. Just scraping by. When's it change?"
"It'll change."
"It won't."
"I'll make sure of it."
"You won't. Drinking and painting's all that's good for you. You're a better bachelor than boyfriend."
"Donna, don't say it." She was silent, but the look on her face told him all. "You can't just leave me. I still love you. Leaving'll prove nothing. Hear that? Nothing."
"Sorry..."
"How can you be saying sorry to me? This is not my fault! It's someone else, yeah?"
"No! No, I haven't seen anyone. Just you. But I can't stay here like we always have. You're messed, and I can't be the only support. You won't change. You're never changing. Nothing I've asked you've ever done except take me away, and this isn't away anymore. It's barely living, like all times. I'm sorry, but I can't stay your girlfriend much longer."
There was a long silence.
"I'm...I'll be looking up other places, see if I can get a new one in a few days. This won't work out. I'll be gone in days, a week of time, mostly."
Which hadn't been good enough, and after all of her things got packed away, she was out the door, standing helplessly on the street. She wiped away tears and loitered by the door, waiting for it to open and him to apologize. It didn't happen. She pressed the button to his room. "Ben? Ben...don't--I said it'd be days. Ben? Let me back. I-I need to stay, just a few days more. I d-don't have anyplace else to live now. Ben? Benry? Benry! Open the door..."
A cheap motel did for those few days until she finally found her own apartment.
Some things never changed.
He was hunched over a canvas on the floor, not having bothered to first cover the carpet with anything to protect it from splatters of paint. His arm made a few quick movements before he reached over to his paints to mix up a new colour. A few other canvases were propped up on the other chairs about the room, some of them unfinished (and probably to remain that way), some she assumed he would go out and attempt to sell off later.
"You've certainly been right at it all today." She didn't mean to startle him, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
His head snapped up, then turned to her. He hopped to his (bare) feet and eyed her up and down before approaching to hug her. "Rough day, Donna?"
She let him hug her but wrinkled her nose. "That stench--that'd be you?"
"I only had a couple drinks today!"
"No, you. They might be able to catch whiff of you five levels up."
"I'll clean up once I'm done this one."
"No, you won't."
Benry let her go and cocked his head. "Hey--the attitude's for what now?"
She shrugged and headed for the bedroom. "Here's a mess. The entire place. You can get to cleaning the rest up."
He wasn't sure what she was getting at and awkwardly followed. "Then...I'll do that, too. I'll get the whole place tidied and polished if you're wanting just that."
"Not just that," she snapped, spinning on her heel. "Everything. If I want anything spitshined, taking a look about your life could work."
"My life? The hell's that mean?"
Despite the fact that he wasn't as of yet getting hostile, she couldn't help but raise her voice. "All and every day, I'm working my arse off at a place I don't expect I'll ever want to be; it's all I can be doing to even get us food instead of passing out in bed. You do nothing!"
"That's not right," he replied, pointing a finger in her face. "I am trying."
"Nobody buys the damned things, Ben. Nobody's liking them. Just because you're making shapes with colours doesn't make it art. I bring the money; you spend it." When she turned again, he grabbed her arm. "You're hardly taking care of yourself! I've done it all! It's been all year, Ben; when's it planning on happening?"
"Donna, listen, I know my art's going to be appreciated one of these days--and it doesn't even have to by you. I get some cash now and then from someone who likes a piece. I'm not completely lacking use."
"That's fooling me."
"Don't start this."
She pulled her arm away. "It started since I left mum and dad's for you."
"And that's reason for regret?"
"I didn't say I regret it..."
"Then what? I'm suddenly not best for you? Two years. We've been in love for--"
"Two and a half," she quietly corrected.
"Exactly my meaning. Does it mean nothing?"
"Ben. Please. I was so much in love with you then."
"Was?" he baulked.
"And I still am, if only you'd get this all sorted out. This isn't much of a life, and if it's all going to fall on me--one year of living here, and nothing's changed. Just scraping by. When's it change?"
"It'll change."
"It won't."
"I'll make sure of it."
"You won't. Drinking and painting's all that's good for you. You're a better bachelor than boyfriend."
"Donna, don't say it." She was silent, but the look on her face told him all. "You can't just leave me. I still love you. Leaving'll prove nothing. Hear that? Nothing."
"Sorry..."
"How can you be saying sorry to me? This is not my fault! It's someone else, yeah?"
"No! No, I haven't seen anyone. Just you. But I can't stay here like we always have. You're messed, and I can't be the only support. You won't change. You're never changing. Nothing I've asked you've ever done except take me away, and this isn't away anymore. It's barely living, like all times. I'm sorry, but I can't stay your girlfriend much longer."
There was a long silence.
"I'm...I'll be looking up other places, see if I can get a new one in a few days. This won't work out. I'll be gone in days, a week of time, mostly."
Which hadn't been good enough, and after all of her things got packed away, she was out the door, standing helplessly on the street. She wiped away tears and loitered by the door, waiting for it to open and him to apologize. It didn't happen. She pressed the button to his room. "Ben? Ben...don't--I said it'd be days. Ben? Let me back. I-I need to stay, just a few days more. I d-don't have anyplace else to live now. Ben? Benry? Benry! Open the door..."
A cheap motel did for those few days until she finally found her own apartment.