Page 83 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

But I’m a fucking masochist, so I message her again.

ME:

-I’m sorry.

It’s been days since I sent the last text, and I’m losing my fucking mind. Why? Why am I feeling like this? I should be happy, right? I can finally focus on myself. Go back to painting and trying to remain as healthy as I can, fucking stay in my bubble of ignorance.

But I can’t.

“Hey.”

I blink, looking up at my friend.

Oscar smiles sadly as if he knows what's messing with my mind.

It gets to the point that Oscar notices my behavior. I don’t want to tell him anything that happened between me and Briar, so I just lie and say I'm seeing someone and am disappointed that it didn’t work out.

“Are you still hung up on that girl you told me about? Barbara?” Oscar asks while we're closing down the gallery.

When the place reopened, I jumped at the chance to help him. I missed working here and needed something to distract my spiraling mind.

“Yeah,” I lie, sighing. “Same girl.”

I almost forgot who Barbara is.

“Come to my place tonight,” Oscar says, hand on my shoulder. “Seriously, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone at home right now. Hang out with me and Natalie. I’m having a couple of guys over for drinks and hanging out, watching dumb videos, doing whatever.”

I force a thankful grin, “Just you and some guys?”

“You consider Natalie to be one of the guys, right?” Oscar asks, grinning back.

Is Briar going to be there? This is a bad idea. I should just go home.

“Sure,” I blurt out. “Yeah, that would be fun. Thank you.”

*-*-*-*

It was not fun.

The reason? Fucking Briar.

As I trail Oscar into his house after work, we are met with a spectacle straight from a college movie — a bustling party that reminds me of those infamous frat gatherings. The air reverberates with thumping music, discarded pizza boxes scattered about, and a sea of unfamiliar faces fills every nook and cranny of the space.

I turn to Oscar and mockingly say, “A few friends, right?”

Oscar’s eyes widen as he looks around his place. He focuses on a small puddle from a beer can that is knocked over. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his jaw ticking. I swear I can hear his teeth grating.

“Oscar!”

We both turn around to see Natalie rushing to him with an apologetic look. At the sight of her, his features soften. He opens his arms, and I watch her throw herself in them.

“What the hell is this?” Oscar groans as he wraps his arms around her.

She looks up at him and grimaces. “I swear, I only invited Harry, Brandon, and Jake.”

“Then who the fuck are these people?” Oscar asks, waving his hand around.

“We went to the store to grab some snacks and ran into Mia. Brandon invited her. She invited Rem, who invited someone, who invited another, who invited—”

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