Lover // the fisher brothers

009

Eleanor 🎀

I wake up to find the debutante letter sitting on my bedside table, a crisp reminder of the path laid out before me. Deciding to embrace the opportunity, I tick the box and commit to becoming a deb. Change is inevitable, whether I seek it or not, and maybe it's time for me to change too.

Heading down to the beach, I hope to catch James and his band in action. This summer feels different, like a departure from the norm, and I am determined to seize the moment. But sometimes, despite my efforts, it seems like I keep missing the mark, always one step behind the rhythm of life.

Returning to the beach house, I sink into a chair, lost in my thoughts. "Hey Nemo," Jeremiah greets me, breaking the silence.

"Hey," I reply, grateful for the distraction.

"Ellie, where've you been?" my mom asks, her concern evident.

"I went for a walk on the beach," I explain, trying to shake off the feeling of being adrift.

"Do we really have to physically sit for our portraits?" Jeremiah quips, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Can't she just, like, look at a picture on her phone or something?" He glances over his shoulder as Steven peers in to see what's going on.

I grab a box of Lucky Charms and pour some milk, hoping the sugary goodness will distract me from the tension in the room. "Okay, get out," Jeremiah declares, pointing a finger at Steven.

"What? Why?" Steven protests, confusion evident in his tone.

"She needs to see you in the flesh to capture your essence," my mom chimes in, adding her own touch of wisdom. "While you're still young and full of hope," she adds with a wry smile, eliciting laughter from Steven and Jeremiah. "Her words," my mom clarifies.

"Well, Conrad does not have hope, actually. He's hopeless, but my hangover smoothie... it cures all," Jeremiah jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

"Can you please just hurry up?" Conrad's voice drifts from the other room, where he lies on the sofa. We used to be close, but ever since last summer, he's become distant, barely acknowledging my existence. I rack my brain, trying to figure out what went wrong.

"Just go back to bed, all right?" Jeremiah sighs, clearly exasperated. He waves a spoon in Steven's face, trying to shoo him away. "All right, seriously, Steven, get out," he insists, the tension palpable in the air.

"Oh, come on," Steven protests, his frustration evident in his tone.

"This is a delicate science, and your heavy breathing is gonna break the yolk," Jeremiah retorts, his focus unwavering.

"Okay, okay, okay," Steven relents, finally stepping away from the scene.

"She hasn't painted you since you were little. I think it'd be nice to have these portraits for when you're older," my mom interjects, her fingers dancing across the keyboard of her laptop.

"Old? No way. When I'm older, I'm sure there'll be, like, holograms or something I can watch of myself, you know?" Steven jokes, attempting to lighten the mood. Jeremiah fires up the blender, causing Conrad to jump in surprise.

"Just sit for your portraits. I don't see Conrad or Ellie complaining," my mom urges, her voice tinged with a hint of impatience.