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Gemma's POV

THE DAY of the fair is the one day that I don't want to get out of bed, even if Jennifer Larner is standing naked by the door.

I'm cutting it close by finally getting out of bed at 7:48 am. I have to rush if I want to make it for an on-time tardy of 8:30.

It's not like I'm needed at the exact time. They're probably still setting up the booths.

I get in the shower, dress and make myself presentable enough to interact with god knows how many people today. When I finally make it to the park, the first thing I remember is my conversation with Jack a few days ago.

I shake the thought, and try to be as present in the moment as I can be. It's gonna be a long fucking day.

"Gemma, I thought you ditched!" Veronica leads me to the booth, and shows me all of the supplies that I will use. Thankfully, I do some of my best work when I'm depressed, so this might be a piece of cake.

"Sorry. Forgot to set an alarm," she doesn't seem to buy it, but brushes it off.

"That's fine. These things really start up hours after opening. You need coffee?" She asks.

I nod, "yes, please."

She smiles and jogs over to the booth next door. It seems to be the timeless ring toss game.

Looking around, most of the booths are still setting up. Typical. I place the back of my palm against my mouth and yawn. I could've used another hour or two in bed.

"Here," Veronica hands me a cup of coffee, and pats me on my shoulder, "you good?"

"Yeah. I'll be great by cup number three."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything. I'll be right over here!" She walks back over to the other booth, and waves at me. I wave back, and we both smile.

With my coffee in one hand, I look through all the supplies, and notice that I have a limited range of colors to work with. It's a good thing that I learnt color mixing in preschool. And in middle school, high school and every youtube video I've ever watched...

"Hi!" A girl walks over, and looks around the small, cramped booth, "you're open, right?"

"Yes. What would you like? I can paint almost anything."

"Hm," she contemplates and takes a seat on the chair. I put down my coffee, and grab some brushes from the tray on the table.

"Do you like butterflies, skeletons, flowers—"

"Do you have a picture book for me to look at?" I sigh.

"Sorry, I don't. The best thing about my booth is that it'll be a surprise," I don't have a portfolio of face painting pictures for one simple reason—I don't do ordinary painting. I'm a special effects artist, for god's sake. I guess I could've printed some designs and compiled them. Darn it.

"Okay. How many tickets is it going to be?" My brows furrow. Fuck.

"Five tickets, Gemma!" Veronica yells from her booth. So, she's eavesdropping.

"Great. By the way, do you do henna?"

"I only do what the sign says—face painting," I look at the sign. It also has the price right there, and my dumbass only just noticed it.

"Cool. I'm thinking about a butterfly. One wing on each eye and pink flowers on my forehead."

"Okay, what would you like the butterfy's colors to be?"

"A rainbow," that's not a color. But fine.

"Sure thing."

I GET fifteen more customers after her, before I finally get a much needed break. Veronica's booth hasn't gotten much attention yet. It'll probably pick up later in the afternoon.

Confessions About The AffairWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu