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“I don’t know, honey. I mean, on Boxing Day you said—”
“I know what I said.”
“But now…are things clearer?”
“You think I should end it?”
“I’m not saying that…”
“I love him, Lucy, and the thought of losing him, really losing him—” A sob broke out from her lips.
“I could fucking strangle him.” Lucy sat down beside her friend, swallowing her anger for Alex’s sake. She pulled her friend into a gentle hug. “Remember what you said about Devin?”
“I know. I know! Cheating is a deal breaker—end of relationship. But it’s Mark, Lucy. It’s Mark.”
• • •
The creaky stairs alerted Lucy. She looked up from the dining table, covered in comic sketches, pencils, and markers, hinting that no meals had been eaten there recently. “How you feeling, sleepy head?”
“Numb. I can’t warm up.” Alex shuffled into the lounge, pulling Mark’s sweatshirt’s sleeves over her pale hands.
Lucy shot to her feet. “Hot sugary tea coming right up—”
“No. I feel pukey.” Alex sniffed. Non-stop crying had left her eyelids swollen as if she had gone ten rounds in the boxing ring. “Thanks, though. What time is it?”
“Just gone quarter to six.” Lucy sat back down. “At least you got a few hours kip in.”
“I didn’t really sleep…” Alex hovered over the table, taking in the scattered drawings. “These new?”
“I wasn’t going to show you yet, but you’re here, so…” She held up a few sketches. Most panels were in pencil, but a few had been inked.
“Lucy.” Alex squinted her plump eyelids. “Fuck.”
“I know, they’re shit. I’ll bin the lot and start over—”
“They’re stunning.” A smile brightened Alex’s grey complexion.
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not. Why are you so critical?”
“I’m preparing myself for the inevitable.”
Alex scrunched up her face.
“I don’t mind people hating me, but my drawings…I don’t know how you do it. How do you put your heart and soul out there like that?”
“I just figure that if I feel something, someone out there must feel it, too. It’s the hope that you’re not alone. When someone says they love my play or a character, it’s the best feeling in the world. It makes it all worth it, even the risk of rejection.”
“I think that kind of rejection would kill me…”
“Yeah, depending on the day and the project. Sometimes I’ll shrug it off, sometimes I’ll spiral into a weepy I can’t do this anymore puddle.” Alex smiled, revisiting the drawing in her hand. “Lucy, you’ve outdone yourself. She’s fucking awesome!”
Lucy pointed at the black female superhero confronting a hulk of a politician. “But it’s so…me.”
“That’s the best kind of art. It’s authentic.”
“It’s edgy. I don’t do safe. It might make it a tougher sell.”
