uponcanvas

[uponcanvas]

way too busy indulging in gelato la trusca’s special flavour, dani barely has time to swallow before looking up, squinting against the sun’s glare, only to be caught off guard by the all too familiar voice and figure. “rosie? oh— of course!” words paired with a growing smile. “can’t believe you’re still stuck working instead of enjoying locals’ week. but go on, hit me with your best shot.” because she knows how frustrating it must be, being tied to work whilst watching the everyone else enjoying themselves. the least she could do is help her hit her quota, right? 

  santa monica pier !!

she’s a little bummed to be working while everyone else at the pier seemed to be having a lot of fun. rosie’s been looking forward to locals’ week for a solid month, and being told to cover the first day was just brutal ; still, she tells herself, she could afford to dedicate a few days to work and just catch up on the festivities later. her grip tightens around her notebook and pen, just a little, as she approaches someone at random ( the better to ignore the urge to gawk at every stall ) . “ excuse me, hi !! i’m doing a piece on locals’ week. would you mind if i asked you a few questions ?? ”

[uponcanvas]

a quiet laugh's exhaled and it feels almost foreign, like a breath of fresh air yet a little sad all the same. "you are blabbering again— not that it’s a bad thing though." he says, but words hold no bite. instead, there's something almost fond behind them as he listens because god, maybe he misses all this more than he realizes. misses how emery's thoughts seem to spill unfiltered, filling the silence whenever he's nervous; it's familiar in a way that makes his chest ache.  the mention of his family, of the start of what pulled them apart, makes him visibly hesitate, liquor absentmindedly rolled along the sides of his glass before he takes a slow sip, exhaling softly as the burn settles. “they’re alright,” like a murmur in the distant. jude knows where the conversation’s going even before he asks, the topic had always felt like a landmine, something he navigates carefully with most others. but here, right now… he doesn’t mind as much. maybe it’s because it's him. because he always understood. “still pretending to tolerate me, i guess. we had a fight, y’know, last year.” pausing, as if debating whether to say more.  and he does, because for some reason, jude doesn't mind letting him see past the carefully maintained distance. "i'm just doing my own thing, for now. personal styling, mostly— ah. now i'm the one rambling away." a sheepish smile follows, faint but genuine. past the quiet air between them, there's something that lingers. if they had tried just a bit harder, would it have worked out? or had this always been their inevitable ending? "...it's nice, though. seeing you here again." not quite a confession nor an admission, but it sits somewhere in between. "i used to always wonder whether we'd run into each other again."

he stared at jude, as if afraid that acknowledging him might cause the moment to vanish. his fingers tightened around his glass before he released a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “ oh, I, uh—yeah, I remember, ” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “ I was so sure I was gonna mess it up. and maybe I did. but you—” his voice faltered once again, and he pressed his lips together, forcing a small smile. “ I think I saw you smile at me, and it made things easier. yeah, i didn’t know you then, but even so it felt like—” he stopped himself abruptly. why was he airing out his thoughts so easily ? he shouldn’t — but with jude right in front him, it was hard habit to break. “ I’m blabbering, aren’t I ? ” emery let out a nervous laugh before taking a sip of the whiskey in front of him, the burn welcoming a distraction from the ache in his chest. his eyes grew teary at the sensation, one might say - a physical manifestation of the emotions he’d been suppressing. there were so many things he wanted to say, so many words left unspoken between them. he couldn’t help but wonder how their conversation would have been in a more private setting, where it was just the both of them and their memories lingering in the air. would he have stormed out in frustration, or broke down in jude’s arms ? “ how’s the family ? the business and all that ? ” he asked, attempting to steer the conversation towards a place where maybe he could see if what happened was worth it in the end. he loved jude and tried his absolute best to be someone he deserved but he always knew that his family’s expectations would inevitably interfere. so when things started to crash between them, he distanced himself and didn’t paying much attention to his family’s affairs. which was hard… he so badly wanted to be on their good side, let alone be accepted of someone who was worthy of jude's time.

[uponcanvas]

jude has to hold back a scoff as his fingers work deftly on the pin, adjusting it for far longer than required just to keep himself occupied on something— anything. “i didn't sneak out,” he says, too plain, too dismissive before stepping back. “i left. normal people leave places all the time, didn’t realize i had to announce my departure like a fucking flight itinerary.” despite pointed words, his tone was lighthearted, far from a jab and they both know jude's in denial, that it’s a blatant lie hidden behind a pathetic argument that he came up with on the spot.   instead of meeting his eyes directly, he casts a glance at ceph's reflection in the mirror and it lingers, as if studying his work. "you look fine. put on a watch or something, the one you wore last time." his attention turns to gather his own clothes set aside earlier, carefully chosen, something sufficient but not too over the top before making his way to the bathroom (they're in a work setting, after all). "we'll leave in twenty." 

he holds the other’s gaze long enough to be polite, just a few beats or so (any more of this and ceph would want to wince), before busying himself with a cuff that didn’t really need fixing. “we could talk big all we want, but there’s a nonzero chance that this is going to happen again. there’s no point in saying it won’t.” and it’s true, too—they both know it. they weren’t compatible, strictly speaking; they were far too similar to get any of this to work, but it meant they could come to an understanding. some things didn’t need to be spoken, not when dealing with someone who’s often on the same page. “all that really matters is that we aren’t weird about it after. moving to the couch? fine. i don’t want to sleep next to you either. but don’t fucking sneak out of your own house. that just makes it so much worse.” he steps closer as he’s beckoned, a little more at ease; and he looks down, inspecting the pin as best he could while jude fixes it onto his lapel. “kind of hard not to do that when i look like a box of nerds.” he didn’t, not really, and the barb carries less weight now that they’ve aired most of their shit out.

[uponcanvas]

the terrifying thing? is that he would do it all over again. if emery said the word, if he so much as hinted at something more, jude knows he’d fall back in without hesitation. but he shouldn’t, too much time had passed and too much has changed. still, he moves— of course he does— a soft ‘thank you’ murmured as he sinks into the seat. without thinking, fingers brush against the worn leather strap to help ease the guitar from his shoulder like he's done so a hundred times before (he probably has). force of habit.   “please, it’s on me.” he turns to the bartender then, “whiskey neat, and…” his usual order flows easily, followed by what he remembers was emery's regular cocktail, like second nature, slipping past his lips before he can even wonder if it’s still the same. only when gaze lands on the other does expression soften; somehow, he’s right back where he swore he’d never be. and yet it doesn’t feel all too bad. “we sat there, remember? by the stage.” on the first day. is it stupid that he still remembers? it's probably even more stupid for him to bring it up now. "you were performing that day too, i think."

" nursing school doesn't leave much room for anything else, so I'm really glad you came today— even though, well, you missed most of it. " he laughs nervously, his gaze darting away for a moment before he clears his throat. his voice falters a little as his thoughts race. if jude were to ever walk back into his life, if things somehow went back to the way they were— yeah, emery would do anything to keep him around. but he’s not sure how it would even work now. they’re on different paths, with different responsibilities. maybe things were meant to stay in the past. maybe. maybe. maybe. or maybe not. " i can stay ! " he blurts out, his tone too eager, and he quickly pinches his own arm, trying to reel himself back in. "i mean... if you just want to catch up and stuff. it’s been years, right ? i’ll buy you a drink. we can just talk. no pressure." before he could respond, he waves down the bartender, signaling for two seats to be saved, then moves towards the bar, pulling out the chair for jude with a practiced gesture. one doesn’t forget to be attentive, after all. "there. all set." he says, offering a soft, genuine smile.

[uponcanvas]

she blinks, momentarily startled— not by the crack of his voice, but by the way he reacts to it, as if the universe just served him the biggest betrayal. "heeey, it's no big deal! happens to all of us all the time," a reassuring smile follows. "besides, if you didn't point it out, i probably wouldn't have even noticed."

closed starter for @uponcanvas

it's not even a high note. he doesn't know why his voice cracks, but he knows that the second he sings it, he hears one of those scare chords, like he's in a horror movie. "fuck, i'm so sorry, that was so embarrassing."

[uponcanvas]

well, jude wouldn’t say he didn’t exactly see it coming. “hate to break it to you though, la’s mostly just a bunch traffic, overpriced coffee, and… interesting people.” words come out with a soft teasing lilt at the end but his gaze lingers, as if searching for something more, pieces of the story that jaekyung chooses to leave unspoken. a pause ensues as he scoots over a bit— a silent invitation for him to join. “so, what’s the verdict? living up to expectations so far, or are you already regretting the decision?” he takes a sip from the remnants of whatever was in his glass (melted ice, mostly, but the poor guy doesn’t even have half a mind left to even tell the difference) then proceeds to tip it slightly in jaekyung’s direction, offering. “want some?” 

"ran away from home." he simply said, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips like he was sneaking out past curfew instead of—well, everything else. he knew the truth was heavier, more tangled than he cared to admit, but he's never been the type to air his business in a dimly lit bar. "figured i'd see what the hype is about." he gestured vaguely, as if los angeles had been calling out to him instead of whatever had actually driven him here. a half-truth, but wasn't that always enough?

[uponcanvas]

like it’s a routine, dani makes herself comfortable, tipping her head a bit to accommodate. the warmth of his hands, along with the the steady rhythm of his massaging fingers, are more than enough to coax away the tension she didn’t even realize she was carrying in the first place. “it was… alright,” she murmurs, though there’s a pause barely noticeable, as if dani considering whether she believes herself. “still haven’t gotten the ‘this is great, dani, you’re a genius!’ yet though. but no disasters, at least.” she huffs a quiet laugh but even so, there's something absent about it; the week had felt longer than usual, the kind that leaves one wrung out and it’s evident through the exhaustion in her voice. "you?" shifting slightly, tilting her head back enough to catch a glimpse of him, fully aware that the position would probably make it harder for him to work on her hair. but they have the entire day to themselves anyway, don't they? "you look silly upside down." she mumbles to herself, a fond smile curling at the corners of her lips. "i mean, have things been busy with the band lately? i still wish i could've gone to see the show earlier this week."

“hey, don’t knock the pink couch. it was cute. we put our own little spin on it.” he allows himself to be led away, and laughing at the memory that’s been called to mind. nik swears he could spot remnants of that dye even now— that is, if he looked very closely—but half of him thinks that he might just be seeing what he wants to see. as much as he’d like a repeat, he didn’t want dani to deal with extra cleanup on top of the week she’s had; and so he starts setting up near the sink, taking the dye out of their boxes and grabbing hair products off of their shelves from elsewhere around the bathroom. the chair’s the final piece of the puzzle (reclining and foldable, purchased specifically for this purpose), and he moves it from its spot in the hall closet, soon unfolding it by the sink. “c’mere,” he says, smiling as he calls dani over. pretty soon he’s got fingers in her hair, working suds into the wet strands. “how was the project?” he asks, and then: “now i sound like a hairdresser and a housewife. how was work, honey?” his voice is soft even as he laughs, and washing someone’s hair isn’t meant to take this long; but this isn’t about that, not really, and it isn’t entirely about dyeing either. for the most part, he just wants dani to be able pause for a few moments and just breathe—and if playing hairdresser is what it takes, nik was more than willing.

[uponcanvas]

alas, who else would she be if not her friends' biggest supporter? juliet’s smile only grows at her comment. “oh, gold glitter sounds pretty, it’s giving a touch of elegance.” a few nods follow as she hums in agreement, before adding, "please. i was just giving random ideas— you're the one who's bringing the vision to life. all the credit goes to you. and now i have to see how they turn out." words followed by a playful nudge at her shoulder. casting a quick glance at her own finished hand as the technician works on her other, she lifts it slightly, enough for jaya to see; pastel pink, perfectly smooth and glossy, but... "what do you think: should i add something else, or do we think it's perfect as is?" 

jaya pulls a "thinking face", she was still undecided, why was this decision always so difficult, "hm. true, they are such a classic design". her eyes dart back down to the pages, jaya needed to hurry up and choose something, her slot was soon, "oooh, good idea, you can't go wrong with a pink" jaya muses, "very spring-like". at her friend's next suggestion, jaya's face lights up, she always wanted her nails to be cute but unique, different, like no one else's, this could be it, a brilliant idea. "bestie, you're full of amazing ideas today, i think that'd be awesome" she grins back at her friend, "i can totally see the vision. maybe with a little bit of gold glitter in the centre, to make things pop". now jaya was feeling inspired, "thank you but, i think all the credit to this set is gonna go to you".

[uponcanvas]

fingers idly press against his jeans as an attempt to ground himself. nursing school. it's something emery had always mentioned in the past, and something jude always knew he wanted to pursue. words settle heavy in his chest, not out of surprise, no, but because of the realization that he barely even knows emery anymore. no more listening to him ramble on and on about his days— both good and bad, nor feeling whispers of late-night dreams tickling skin. rather, they're back to being barely anything more than just strangers catching up. "mhm, that’s nice. you made it in the end." voice soft, quieter than intended, somewhat of a nostalgic smile on his lips which holds the same sense of fondness that was always there whenever it’s emery. a part wishes he could say something more, perhaps something along the lines of i'm proud of you. shifting a bit away from the entrance to allow some patrons in, he allows the door to close behind him. "i should've come earlier then. been a while since i last heard you sing." a failed attempt at lightheartedness. was that a stupid thing to say? and before he could stop himself, following words fall; too unsteady, too raw. "you're leaving again already?”

he shifts, adjusting the strap of his guitar like it’s some kind of anchor, something to keep his hands from shaking. he keeps his head down—he recognizes that voice. that sweet, honey-like voice that once woke him up with soft kisses, with everlasting sweet nothings, with words of affirmation. but now, it all feels like a memory, distant and untouchable. Should he make eye contact? Should he not? “been a while, huh?” he starts, voice quieter than he means it to be. “I almost didn’t recognize you,” he admits, a small, fleeting smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks up. he doesn’t know why he smiled. maybe to fill the silence, maybe to pretend this doesn’t sting the way it does. maybe if he acts like everything is fine, they’ll both walk away like nothing ever happened. like they didn’t leave each other behind. his gaze flickers away, just for a second, but not before the ache slips through. Not before the weight of years apart settles in his chest. "I uh -- still sing here until I finish school." was that too much? he asks himself. did he even care to know about that information? "nursing school." He adds on, "got a few months left, that's all."

[uponcanvas]

how'd  she  end  up  here?  well,  let's  just  say  that  dani  saw  the  exact  same  video  that's  going  viral,  went  through  the  trouble  of  reserving  a  spot  in  the  very  same  class,  and  now  here  she  was,  at  studio  harbor  with  barely  any  experience  when  it  comes  to  pottery  or  anything  of  the  sort.  aside  from  the  one  single  clay  workshop  she  had attended  out  of  boredom  years  ago.  "i'd  say  the  odds  are  pretty  high,  but  who  knows?  maybe  today’s  the  day  you  discover  that  you  have  natural  talent  when  it  comes  to  pottery.”  words  teasing  as  she  works  on  shaping  her  own  'vase'. or rather, one  that  looks  more  like  a  sad deformed  blob  than  a  vase  itself.  out  of  pure  curiosity,  dani  peers  over  at  the  other  girl's  bench.  "what  are  you  making? something fun?"

loc: studio harbor

the idea came to her while she was lying down in bed, scrolling mindlessly through tiktok late on a wednesday night. the video was simple—an insanely pretty girl dressed in black, molding clay like it was the easiest thing in the world. huh, looks interesting. and that was how she ended up registering for a pottery class that weekend. now, seated in front of the wheel, sleeves pushed up and a streak of clay already on her cheek, she cracks her knuckles like she’s about to win something. “alright, let’s see if i’m a natural.” she pauses, glancing over to the person next to her. “what are the odds this thing collapses in the next five minutes?”

[uponcanvas]

"fuck—" curse slips, half muttered as the door hits something— someone, upon his entrance. he barely has time to register the entire situation before gaze lifts, and it's like all the air's lodged in his throat. jude's not supposed to be here. despite telling himself that over and over, footsteps somehow always end up taking him back to the same place, stripped of his usual facade; no carefully chosen designer pieces nor the polished exterior he always wears like a perfectly crafted mask but just… him. hair unkempt, hoodie thrown over his head, practically begging not to be seen at least for the night. only to be face-to-face with the one person who had always been able to see straight through him.  "emery?" name slips before a single thought's processed, barely above a whisper. and he looks the exact same, yet different at the same time. a little older than the emery in jude's memory. a little more worn, tired, but still carrying that same damn guitar slung on shoulder like he always did. “i—” seconds of silence seemed to stretch as his fingers curl at the doorframe, lips parting to say something— anything. "…didn't think i'd see you here."

starter for jude ( @uponcanvas ! ) location: the gut wrenching pub at nine pm !

the bar smelled the same — whiskey, old wood, and the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to the past. he had played here for years, singing his heart out for a handful of bills and some kind words, but tonight felt heavier for some reason.

the last note lingered in the air, reverberating through the dimly lit bar as emery exhaled, letting his fingers rest on the guitar strings to silence them. a few scattered claps followed, mostly from the regulars who had been coming here for years. he gave them all a tired and weary smile before turning around and packing his guitar into its case with practiced ease.

he adjusted his jacket, slinging the guitar strap over his shoulder, and made his way toward the door.

and then — bang.

the heavy wooden door smacked right into him, knocking him back a step. a muttered curse slipped from his lips as he steadied himself, rubbing his forehead. " jesus christ what the he— "

[uponcanvas]

task  01:  dani's,

01.  with  somebody,  public  library  commute  02.  play  with  earth!,  wave  to  earth 03. imgonnagetyouback,  taylor  swift 04.  friday,  iu 05.  is  it  the  answer,  reality  club 

[uponcanvas]

“daisies  are  a  classic,  definitely  not  overdone. i actually think they're adorable.”  eyes  follow  jaya's,  inching  in  a  slight  as  she  peers  down  at  of  colours  displayed  upon  catalogue. just  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  selection.  "this—"  fingertips  taps  against  the  edge  of  a  certain  nude  shade,  careful  not  to  move  too  much  (else  she'll  end  up  being  scolded  by  the  nail  tech  working  meticulously  on  the  patterns  on  her  other  hand  again).  muted  pink,  not  too  dark,  yet  not  too  light  that  it  could  be  mistaken  for  white.  "—would  be  a  cute  base  for  the  spring  theme  though."  she  muses,  a  smile  tugging  at  the  corners  of  her  lips.  she  understands  jaya,  really,  choosing  the  colours  is  always  the  toughest  part  when  it  comes  to  getting  your  nails  done.  "oooor…  something  completely  unique? jet black nails  with  little  daisies?"  a  soft  chuckle  slips  then,  leaning  back  against  her  chair.  “either  way,  whatever  you  go  for,  you'll  make  it  work.  as  you  always  do.”

open starter / location: random nail bar

"which colour do you think i should go for?" jaya asks the other, looking down at her choices. she loved getting her nails painted, jaya always felt a little more confident whenever she left the shop, "i was thinkin' of maybe getting some cute flowers, like daisies on there too, for some spring vibes or has that been done to death?".

[uponcanvas]

[uponcanvas]

task  01:   juliet's,

01.  hot  to  go!,  chappell  roan 02.  15  minutes, sabrina  carpenter 03.  pretty  girls,  reneé  rapp 04.  best  u  ever  had  <3,  tiger  la  flor 05.  juna,  clairo

[uponcanvas]

task  01:   jude's,

01. james  dean,  tiger  la  flor    02. heirloom  pain,  niki    03. about  you,  the  1975    04. drowning,  woodz    05. say,  keshi

[uponcanvas]

“mhm.”  juliet’s  anything  but  convinced.  that’s  what  they  always  say—  competely  sober,  i  don't  drink  anymore,  i  don't  even  get  drunk—  only  for  the  same  faces  to  show  up  at  the  diner  a  few  days  later,  completely  shit-faced.  5am's  a  quiet  hour,  with  most  of  the  patrons  returning  home  by  now  (aside  from  the  one  or  two  still  passed  out  by  the  corner).  it  gets  boring  at  this  hour,  actually.  lonely,  even,  hence  why  she's  here,  leaned  against  counter  and  entertaining  their  only  sober  customer.  "sure,  of  course.  whatever  you  say."  brow  arched  as  she  listens,  corners  of  her  lips  twitching  into  an  amused  smile,  a  glint  of  doubt  almost  immediate.  "i  could've  sworn  i  saw  you  here  a  few  weeks  back  though,  if  i  recall  correctly.  somewhere  around—..."  trailing  off  for  the  dramatic  effect,  pen  idly  twirled  between  fingers,  before  pointing  it  at  a  table  by  the  entrance.  "—there."  pretty  confident  in  her  response  too.  more  than  a  few  times,  actually.  but  she  omits  that  part.  "well.  unless  you  have  an  identical  twin around here."

📍  　:　  tim  &  jay's 🕐  　:　  5  am

“oh—oh,  no.  i'm  completely  sober.”  shiloh  was  well  aware  of  the  kind  of  people  who  usually  found  themselves  at  tim  and  jay’s  at  this  hour: half-drunk  regulars  nursing  the  last  dregs  of  their  regret  with  cheap  coffee.  alcoholics,  mostly.  men  with  faces  crumpled  like  discarded  newspapers,  women  with  smudged  lipstick  and  last  night’s  mistakes  still  clinging  to  their  skin.  but  shiloh?  he  tooootally  was  above  all  that.  he  hadn't  touched  alcohol  in  weeks,  not  since  he  started  taking  soul  cycling  classes  and  decided  he  actually  liked  waking  up  in  the  morning  without  feeling  like  his  brain  had  been  wrung  out  like  a  dishcloth.  “i  don't  drink  alcohol  anymore—that  shit's  nasty,”  he  said,  as  if  he  hadn't  spent  years  indulging  in  the  same  vices  he  now  turned  his  nose  up  at.  “i  usually  wake  up  at  four  in  the  morning,”  he  added,  like  a  fucking  badge  of  honour,  “have  breakfast  at  around  five.”