“Please. Do you remember what you were wearing three years ago?”
“Yeah, and compared to now… it was kind of boring,” I admit.
“Exactly. Fashion is art,” she tells me, looking at a top that I know she hates. “Just like Zara paints, and you read, I form outfits. You can’t have everything — I can’t paint to save my life, and books make me sleepy.”
We spend another two hours hunting through racks, filling ourselves in.
We talk a lot, because we literally live together, but sometimes I feel like we have a whole life we don’t know about.
We talk at meals, but more often than not, our duties call and take away all the special time.
I am grateful for moments like these when we get to actually talk and spend time together, instead of passing by each other and filling ourselves in when time allows it.
We have this mutual understanding of our situations, which helps with the lack of time, but I’m lucky, because I can’t imagine having a friend in a different field of profession than me.
I would feel so guilty for not being able to spend enough time with them.
With all the practice, training, and travelling, having friends would be impossible.
Which is why I am eternally grateful that I have amazing friends who understand it all and get to do it with me.
Instead of being busy and not being able to hang out, thebusybecomes the hangout, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
By the time we make it to the restaurant, I’m exhausted in the best way possible.
Yana orders while I pick out a table next to a large window overlooking the city.
The sunset paints everything a beautiful pink hue, and the pink mixed with the green and beige decor in the restaurant paints a stunning view.
I sit down and take a picture for Zara because I know she will appreciate it.
“This is why you always pick seats, T,” Yana tells me, sitting down across from me.
She takes photos, and I already know they will be posted on her profile by tomorrow.
Social media isn’t my life, but Yana loves it.
“So, tell me, what’s going on?” she asks while putting her phone away.
“Nothing much,” I lie.
I literally hate lying to her, but I just don’t know if I can handle her habit of making things bigger than they are about this.
“What about you?”
She smiles dreamily. “I’ve got three events lined up in America. Content creation is going really well, and I love it. Volleyball is amazing, but this is something I actually see myself doing.”
I nod.
I can see her doing it as well.
I can’t imagine putting my face on socials more than it is already with volleyball, and for that, I do respect Yana.
“And Iknowyou’re lying.”
I look at her, and she narrows her eyes.“You’re not telling me something, T.”
“The world may never know.” I tease, but when she doesn’t look amused, I add, “I promise I’m fine, Yana.”
