Page 2 of Undisputed Chaos
Wouldn’t miss it!
I smiled and followed the text with my own confetti of heart emojis. My parents lived only twenty minutes away in a house that was too big for them now that I’d moved out, but they refused to downsize.
Mom said she needed the space for when I came home, as though my little apartment was some temporary experiment rather than my life.
Crew still lived there, though he'll probably be moving nearby once he graduates this year.
The afternoon sun slanted through my windows as I moved to my easel in the corner.
This was the real work, not the videos or the sponsored posts, but the canvases I poured myself into when no one was watching.
This week’s piece was a sprawling skyline in soft watercolors.
My paintbrush moved precisely, adding depth to the shadows of buildings I'd seen my entire life.
Painting was the one thing I did that didn't require a filter, carefullighting, or the right outfit. It was just me, the canvas, and the colors mixing in ways that sometimes surprised me.
My followers liked it when I shared my art, but it never got the engagement of my outfit videos or makeup tutorials. Still, I enjoyed sharing my creativity, so I kept at it, finding quiet satisfaction in signing my name on each finished piece.
Three hours passed in a blur of blue washes and tiny, detailed windows. My neck ached from bending over the canvas, and my fingers were stained with paint I'd need to scrub off before dinner.
I stretched, my spine cracking in protest, and glanced at my phone. Two missed calls from my brother and a string of texts.
Crew
Can you pick me up from practice?
Mom and Dad are both stuck in traffic.
Helloooooo
ISLA I'm STRANDED
HELP!
The last message had come through just two minutes ago. I called him back with a laugh.
"Finally!" Crew's deep voice reached my ears.
I was still adjusting to his post-puberty changes, like him not having the voice of my baby brother.
"I've been waiting for like, an hour."
"It's been twenty minutes," I corrected with a grin, already grabbing my keys. "I was painting. I'll be there in ten."
"Make it five. Coach already left, and I'm the only one here."
I rolled my eyes, slipping into sandals that weren't ideal for driving but matched my outfit perfectly. "Don't be dramatic. Lock yourself in the locker room if you're scared."
"I'm not scared," he protested, the responding eye roll audible in his voice. "I'm bored. And hungry."
"See you soon, drama queen."
I hung up before he could argue, grabbing my tumbler of water due to the warmth of the day.
The car my parents had gifted me when I graduated high school was a sensible and cute blue, waiting in its designated spot beside my building.
The drive to Crew's high school took exactly ten minutes, as I’d said, the traffic mercifully light for a weekday afternoon.
