𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃, jeremiah fisher

seven. are there still beautiful things?

I WAKE UP on my birthday with Vanessa's face creepily smiling at me from above the way it always does on this day every year.

She rolls her eyes when I glare at her. "Finally. I've been waiting for literally ever for you to wake up."

I snort, shoving her away. "Will there ever come a year when I don't have to wake up to you breathing down my neck like a creep?"

She grins. "You and I both know the answer to that."

A smile breaks across my face as I laugh and throw a pillow at her. She lunges at me, my pillow being stolen and instead launched in my face. Laughing, we both fall onto my bed.

"Happy birthday, you jerk."

Flicking her forehead, I respond, "Thanks, you dumbass."

The door swings open, definitely making a dent in the wall, as my brother and father barge into the room. I groan, shaking my head as I get ready.

Every year, they sing this stupid song and do this stupid dance that never fails to give me second-hand embarrassment. But it's a tradition that makes me laugh, so I try not to make too much fun of them.

Rey and Dad both start singing—they're terrible singers—and start dancing along. It's three minutes of torture, but Vanessa and I can't stop laughing.

Once they're finished, they do jazz hands while being back to back. I shake my head at them, though I'm grinning, as they both move to crush me and Vanessa into their arms.

"Happy birthday, brat," Rey says, ruffling my hair.

My only response is a groan as Dad squeezes the air right out of my lungs. Laughing, I push them away.

"You know, you guys don't have to sing that song every year."

Dad scoffs. "We didn't do it one year and you nearly lost your shit. Refused to eat breakfast until we did it."

I roll my eyes. "You're exaggerating."

"No, he's not," Vanessa and Rey reply at the same time.

I glare at them both, but it doesn't last long. Soon I'm smiling and then I'm pulling them all back into me again. My birthday is the one day of the year I wish wouldn't ever come, and they know exactly why. And still, they manage to make me smile and laugh and feel like I'm someone who is worth loving.

And for this one day of the year, I almost let myself believe I am.

꘏

VANESSA HAS DRAGGED me out to the tiny art shop hidden in the corner of the array of shops littered across the area in front of the ocean. It's my absolute favorite place in the world, and Van has insisted on getting my birthday present right this instant—even though she already gave me new canvases and paintbrushes.

But who am I to complain? I'll take any chance I can get to visit the little shop I used to hide in when I was seven and all I wanted to do was stare at the pretty paintings scattered around the place.

I still remember sitting in the small kids' area, staring up at the painting straight overhead of two similar-looking women sitting side by side holding hands. Their hearts were drawn outside of their chests, connected to each other and to a pair of scissors.

I later found out it was a painting called "The Two Fridas," painted by Frida Kahlo. It was the first artwork that piqued my interest, especially when I found out the backstory behind her marriage and divorce.