rhysbradley

[rhysbradley]

"I didn't feel burdened by anyone's expectations but my own." Rhys was quick to explain. He paused, allowing silence to fall between them as he noticed the irony in the sound of children's laughter in the background, despite the intensity of their conversation. On the outside to any passer-by, they were having just any regular conversation. But this was emotion fuelled, and had been a long time coming, Rhys had realised.

"Sam," he began with a gentle sigh, his gaze still remaining forward. "My dad never wanted anything to do with me as a kid, all he did was send a cheque every month to make sure I was looked after. And then when I finally had the chance to meet him and experience what it felt like to have a father, he died." Rhys paused, chewing lightly on the inside of his lip. He had shared a bed with this woman, his heart too, the least he could do was share the truth. "I've never had a father. I don't know what it's like to have a father, never mind actually be a father. Maya deserves better than that, you know that." finally, he turned his body to face Samira, his eyes finding hers. "You deserve more than that."

He stole a glance in Maya's direction, wondering if she had seen the two of them talking yet. "Maya is... She's a great kid, Sam. She really is. But she needs stability, and I just don't know if I'd be able to give her that." Rhys should have known that they were a package deal, but the sweet romance with Samira had been too tempting to give up. The lifestyle they led together in San Francisco was that of an old money couple in a movie, but maybe that's exactly what it was. A romance that could never hold the weight of reality. "I never regretted you and I." Rhys spoke softly. "I just regret how I handled it."

It was hard to come face to face like this with Rhys. Samira had known it was a possibility when she’d made the move to Wilmington because she knew his history with the town and the fact that he and Kian along with Amos were such a tight knit group, but she’d not expected to have to run into him like this when she felt mostly defenceless. It was hard for Samira to explain really but she’d wanted to fight when he’d first left them but then—she wondered if perhaps there might’ve been some other reason for it. After all—Shane had left them all those years ago, essentially before even knowing Maya. And then after a lot of self doubt, Samira had reluctantly let Rhys into her heart and Maya’s life—and he’d done the same thing. Maybe all the two Iyer girls had were each other. 

“I don’t want to yell at you,” she told him again, reiterating the fact because she knew yelling wouldn’t do her any good, and it wouldn’t help him either. He hadn’t wanted to be with them in the way Samira had foolishly let herself dream about and that wasn’t his fault. It was hers for letting herself and her daughter get attached to him. Instead she waited to see if he’d be able to formulate some sort of response to tell her why he’d left that way…making her wonder for days if something horrible had happened to him, causing her to fear for his life but then all the unanswered calls began clueing her in. She’d gone as far as finally calling up Kian and had very discretely asked him about his support system, namely Rhys and Amos to find out if the other was okay. And when Kian had confirmed to speaking with Rhys in simple words—Samira had begun the journey of sealing her heart off once again.

When he finally told her why he’d left, she’d felt the emotions bubbling up inside of her. “Oh…” He’d left because her daughter had tried to find her father in him. Samira had seen it happening, but Rhys hadn’t…expressed anything about it, he hadn’t told her he didn’t like it or it was too much. Maybe if he had—they’d have worked through it? But there was no point dwelling on the past that they'd both left behind. “I’m sorry that you felt…burdened by her expectations,” she murmured as she watched her daughter smiling and laughing with the volunteer who had been helping her make the kite. “But…if Maya looked at you like that. it was because she knew who were capable of being that person you didn’t think you could be, kids are intuitive that way,” she told him quietly, essentially telling him that she’d wanted to see that in him too but that was her fault for putting those expectations on him and their relationship. He’d come looking for some fun companionship and she'd forced a real relationship at him instead. Finally she forced herself to look back at him and hated those pulsating feelings that were continuing to remind her why she’d fallen for him in the first place. “Thank you though, for being honest with me now…even if it’s a few years too late.” Because if he’d said something, anything at that point—they could’ve tried working through it together.

#( thread; samira iyer 02. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

He pointedly looked at Amos, not wanting to say the words just because he knows his uncle, doesn't mean he isn't guilty. At the time the police did all they could to investigate the odd circumstances of Mayor Thompson's death, and over the years, Rhys had come to peace with it and moved forwards. But now... It had irked him that someone thought it to be a hilarious practical joke to drag it all back up again. "Yeah man, I'd appreciate it if you could ask around." Rhys nodded, offering his friend a tight smile. "But just as important, I want to know who the fuck was behind all of that." they must have had some balls to release suspects so publicly.

Amos followed Rhys silently, knowing that this was one of those instances where he probably wouldn't be able to find the right words to calm his friend down, or to even comfort him if that's what Rhys needed. "We can talk to Kian. He's probably as surprised about this as you are, but he knows his uncle." Amos offered with furrowed eyebrows, not entirely sure of what to believe. The announcement being done like this felt almost sinister to him. Why at a town event? Why not a press conference? Something felt wrong. "Look, for all we know it's not even true, right? Maybe going to the police is the right thing to do, find out what they really know. I know a couple detectives there, I could ask."

#( thread; amos de leon 02. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

It was a Saturday night at Tric, and as expected, the beach club was busy and tightly packed. The pulsing beat of the music travelled up the stairs and through the doors to Rhys' office, where it had fallen to a soft thrum. He tried his best not to make it a habit to stay holed up behind his laptop, keeping a log of all the figures and brainstorming the next events. But the numbers were beginning to blur and his laptop whirred at the number of spreadsheets he had open, causing him to stand to his feet.

He had a bar manager, but Rhys equally loved working behind the bar. It was there where he could really judge the energy of the club, and listen to what people were saying. He had years of bartending experience and he moved quickly, seamlessly from one order to the next, always maintaining conversation and the attention of his customers.

But the sound of her voice sent a cold chill along his spine, her words knocking him back a decade. The bottle in his hand almost slipped, but he forced himself to remain aloof and casual, as if the blonde hadn't really broken his heart.

No fucking way. Finally, his gaze had moved upwards to finally take her in. Her eyes glittered and her blonde hair bounced different neon colours from the strobe lights. Even under this harsh lighting she was still as beautiful as he remembered. Fuck.

"Well if it ain't Maggie Kennedy." her name felt like poison on his tongue, and yet his lips still upturned into a smile. "Yeah well, except this time I own the place." Rhys replied simply, a quiet smirk in his eyes. He pressed his palms into the bar top, his shoulders squaring as he leaned a little closer. "You want a drink? It's on the house."

starter for: @rhysbradley location: tric

Work had always been at the forefront of Maggie's mind, it was the love of her life after all, but she had told herself that when she moved home to Wilmington things would be different. She would be different. She did not want to be the workaholic that she had been in Charlotte, at least not as much. So, when a friend sent her a quick invite to attend a girl's night out, she quickly accepted. Even if that meant that she would be doubling up her workload the next day. The two women, dressed to perfection, had begun their night by splitting a bottle of wine over a few appetizers. It was meant to be a calm night, relaxing, but once that warm buzz hit her head she was ready to keep the night going. The two had bounced around the few bars in Wilmington that she remembered frequenting years ago before they made their way over to TRIC. The other woman was raving about the Wrightsville Beach night club and how it was her favorite, Maggie just had to see it for herself. The vibe was the perfect fit, she noted, as she made her way further into the dimly lit space. Their were bodies moving together to the beat of the music that played loudly over the speakers, the thump of it electrifying her to her bones. She turned to her friend, commenting that she would grab them a drink and meet her out on the dance floor. She sauntered over to the bar, her eyes immediately falling on the broad shoulders of who she assumed was the bartender. Even with his back to her, she guessed that he was rather attractive. This was only confirmed when he turned toward her, except this was a man she knew all too well. There was no way, of all the places in the world, she had to walk into the very one that Rhys Bradley worked in. "Rhys Bradley," his name flowed smoothly off her tongue, as it had many times in their past, only now it tasted much more bitter than she remembered. "Still showcasing your bartending talents, I see." Her heart felt as if it had sunk into the dark pits of her stomach, her mind immediately clearing as if she hadn't been drinking all night. Despite her comment, poking at him, she could feel the flush of her skin causing her to sweat. She hadn't seen him in over ten years, had done her best to make sure he was avoided, and yet here they were.

#and i oop #( thread; maggie kennedy 01. )

[rhysbradley]

"Oh just pick anyone livin' in Carriage Falls." Rhys paused, taking a sip of his coffee as he glanced around the people in the room. "They love boasting about how much each item in their house has cost them." he of all people could speak from experience after suffering the ordeal of his step-mother until he was eighteen. "It's a dick measurin' competition for Karen's." he explained simply. He pondered Lily's question for a moment, before gently shrugging his shoulders. "I was hoping to find something small I could give as a gift. An apology." Rhys was quick to correct.

Her lip nearly quirked up at the offer as she laid the napkin down gingerly on the table, careful not to allow the liquid to stain the tablecloth. She was making a point, but far be it from Lily to actually ruin something and be reminded how out of place she felt in an event such as this. Maybe of the lineup, she should have picked the seafood or food trucks. Not the art gallery where she knew not as single name associated with the paintings around her. “I’ll keep that suggestion in mind for my second masterpiece. I would rather go home with thirty thousand than only twenty. Just have to find the right target.” Casting a glance around the room where everyone stood and interpreted the meaning of the various brush strokes against canvas, she looked back at her present company. “Assuming you’re not among the art buffs or wannabe collectors, what made you show up to a gallery opening?” / @rhysbradley

#( thread; lily johnson 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"Some time ago." Rhys replied simply. He had always made an active choice in avoiding any nieces and nephews, but it was his ex's daughter that had really made him more comfortable around kids. She had been sweet, and easy to be around, but he soon grew weary of stepping into her father's shoes. "I always make sure I have time to check out the Ocean Bounty Bazaar, although I never miss the Jazz and Blues musicians. Just some good music, good friends, and great alcohol as the sun is just startin' to set. Not a lot in this world can beat that." Rhys explained with a soft smile.

A brow arched and she chuckled at his response. "I'll keep that in mind." What a charmer. The man was clearly dangerous to be around, if she was easily seduced. "Sounds like you’ve been around children.” Was he a dad? She wouldn’t be surprised if he was. She smiled at the mention of the help he’d given her. "I’ll keep that in mind.” Not that she would make it a habit of asking. It didn’t feel right, at least not with someone she wasn’t exactly close with. Hazal glanced around at the space, taking in the sights and sounds around her before turning back to the man. "What's been your favorite part of the event so far? I’m guessing you’ve made your rounds?” 

#( thread; hazal akman 02. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"The only time you'll ever willingly find me in there is if one of them is hot and hates her husband, and even then she's gotta be real hot, you know? Or, I'd be there to dance on Eleanor's grave. Whichever comes first." Rhys shrugged nonchalantly. He and his step-mother had never hid their great disdain for one another, even when Rhys was only a child. "Fuck no, ain't nobody touching Tric, not even me." his bar was like his own child he had birthed, even Rhys wasn't going to fix something that wasn't broken. "Nah I was looking for a gift for someone, maybe." an apology gift, of sorts.

"Rhys, I ever see you in there, I'm dragging you out. We can figure out what I assumed later, the crisis comes first." After a bump of his elbow against his friend in the wake of Rhys' pat, and a laugh that saw both shoulders bounce, Harry turned back to the paintings, and downed the last of his lukewarm coffee before piping up in question. "So, paintings have you feeling broke? Paintings got you feeling ... shrooms," there, he paused to grin. "The hell are you over here then? 'cause it doesn't sound like you're shopping for Tric ... unless that's the vibe. Then I think we've gotta have a whole other conversation."

#eleanor is his evil step-mother btw #( thread; harrison hayes 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"No?" Rhys questioned, a teasing tone to his voice. "What kind of someone did you think of me as then?" he prodded with a soft smirk. "It's not all about the money." he countered. "But as a guy who runs his own business, sometimes all I see is dollar signs." he chuckled deeply. "Hell yeah I wanna try my talent, just so I can show these fools that even Rhys Bradley can slosh around a paint brush and call it art." he smiled smugly. "Here, take my number. You just pick a time and I'll be there." he held his hand out for her phone.

Jemma rolled her eyes at Rhys's comment. "You know," she mused, "I never thought of you as someone so fixed on the idea of money." It was meant to be a tease, still she gave him a side glance — just to be sure her words hadn't hit a nerve. Studying the painting, she unconciously tilted her head to one side. "My initial thought was of the sky." Suddenly, she turned to face him. "I don't know about shrooms but if you ever want to try your talent, I know of a place where people gather to paint. There is also free wine. We can go sometime, if you want?"

#( thread; jemma lawson 01. )

[rhysbradley]

"Uncultured? Speak for yourself, Lawson." Rhys scoffed jokingly, although his smile soon dropped away at the mention of Kian's uncle. Rhys' feelings towards his father were confusing at the best of times, and before he had even had a chance to develop a real relationship with his father, he was found dead in their home. As an eight year old boy, what the hell was Rhys supposed to think about that? "Yeah I heard it all..." he paused, silently judging Kian's reaction. "He's family. You never want to think your family are capable of doing bad things, but..." Rhys trailed off, shrugging lightly. "We both know my father was never particularly innocent himself."

He could only snicker at Rhys' comment. Because the guy wasn’t exactly wrong. Art was overly pricey and some of them didn’t even make sense to him. "I mean, you're not wrong. But maybe we're just too uncultured to appreciate the finer things in life," Kian said, shrugging his shoulders. What kind of people were they? He mulled it over for a moment before responding. "We're the kind of people who appreciate the simpler thing and not spending our life savings on unicorn poop art." He chuckled, his face falling when he was reminded of the name drops from earlier, “I’m guessing you’ve heard about my uncle? I’m not sure how to feel…” 

#( thread; kian lawson 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

Rhys glanced around, weighing up the pros and cons of getting high within his local community. But, Rhys had never painted himself as a saint and didn't particularly intend to start now. "Fuck it." he grumbled to himself, downing the last of his coffee. "Let's do this before I change my mind." never in his life did Rhys think he would be doing shrooms with Ryat. "We need a safe word in case I start seeing some weird shit."

"You don't know what you're missing, then." He stated, more out of shits and giggles, then actual belief Rhys was missing anything special. He arched a brow as the man questioned him, a devious smirk crossing his features. "You're joking, right? That's literally the best place to do them. What's better then to trip around some art, my man." He shrugged, "I might, guess there's only one way to find out. You in, or?"

#drugs tw #( thread; ryat navarro 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

It was more his aversion to the copious amounts of children, than the kite-making, that had originally kept Rhys away. But of course, he wasn't about to admit that to the woman stood beside him who he once shared a bed, and his heart with. He had feared that both Samira and Maya saw him as the man he wasn't, and likely could never be, and that had him running to the hills. Samira had been... She was perfect. But Rhys, his edges were sharp and crooked, and he could feel her getting too close.

"Yes, you can yell at me... In private." Rhys agreed with a gentle nod of his head. He deserved as much, and he knew that. He knew the why question was coming, had prepared for it even. But that didn't mean it was any easier to confess the truth, the truth he had been ignoring for years now. But seeing Samira again made him realise she deserved the truth, if either of them were ever going to truly move on.

He sucked in an inhale through his teeth and he rocked back and forth momentarily on his feet. "That's the problem, Samira. She looked at me like I was her dad, and I'm not, nor could I ever be a replacement." Rhys exhaled shakily, silently. "She looked at me like I was someone I wasn't and it-... I couldn't do it." Samira had never been the issue, she had been perfect in every way. But the pressure of being someone he didn't know how to be had gotten to Rhys a lot quicker than he realised.

It wasn’t something that needed to be said, but from the moment Maya had seen Rhys earlier, the fear was present in Samira that her little girl was going to get attached to him once again. Samira didn’t want to feel like she had to go out of her way to avoid seeing him mainly because she didn’t think that was feasible when they had connections through Kian especially. But if Maya grew attached to Rhys once more, she didn’t know if her daughter would be able to take the heartbreak the second time around. “Yeah, you don’t strike me as a kite-making guy,” she said with a her dimple showing as she smiled before returning her gaze back towards Maya. 

She couldn’t look at him for too long, it brought back that rush of feelings that she thought she’d kept locked away and needed to keep reminding herself that it was a part of her life that she’d left behind. Sure, he was in front of her now but that didn’t mean anything. He was just here—that was all. She nodded at his words, recalling how she’d witnessed that trio for the first time during Kian and Diana’s wedding and how crazy close they all were. But if he was supposed to be meeting them in a place that wasn’t here, why was he still here? 

His statement surprised her as she glanced in his direction, this time with her own eyebrow raised before she spoke. “Are you giving me permission to yell at you? In private?” She asked with a quick shake of her head. “I don’t need to yell at you…you didn’t—you owed me nothing.” But he owed Maya something, little Maya who had gotten so attached to this man. Little Maya who luckily still hadn’t noticed him standing with Samira yet. “But if I can ask—why didn’t you just tell me before you decided to leave? I wouldn’t—“ she stopped herself from saying she wouldn’t have stopped him. Because the truth was she didn’t know what she would’ve done at that point. Instead she continued with, “I don't know if I would've tried to stop you, but…I just, I didn’t know what to tell her Rhys, she—she spent so many days waiting for you to come back, it just about killed me to see her that way.” 

#( thread; samira iyer 02. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

Rhys impatiently stopped, only waiting for Amos to catch up before marching away a little further. At least until they were far enough away from the crowds of people to have a conversation without the fear of someone eavesdropping and running to their friends about what they'd heard. "I just don't understand why this shit has got to be dragged up again, thirty fucking years later." Rhys spat through almost gritted teeth. "We gotta speak to Kian, right?" if this thing involved Kian's uncle, then maybe Kian had some clarity behind it. Explain if this ridiculous announcement had any weight behind it or if it was some stupid fearmongering prank by some dumbass teenagers.

One bad thing about being friends with someone for decades was the ability that came with being able to read them like an open letter, even when the other person didn't want to be read. Amos knew, as soon as the announcement was made, that Rhys would walk away. He didn't blame him, but he also knew that his friend needed a friend. "If you say that a third time, I might actually believe you." Amos murmured as he followed Rhys through the crowd, sending dirty looks to whoever was on their way and giving their unwanted opinion on the matter. "Rhys, slow down or I'll keep following you around like a lost puppy."

#( thread; amos de leon 02. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"See, mixed media is something I could vibe with." Rhys mused, nodding his head. "The weirder it is, the more it gets my brain ticking." for Rhys, art had to have some kind of movement or rhythm. His eyes couldn't see what the artist wanted him to see by staring at a canvas of colours, Rhys needed more. "Yeah uh, you ever been to Tric?" now this would be the real embarrassing part if they confessed they'd never even heard of it. "That place is my baby. God, I fucking love it."

A smile flitted through their lips then, unsure at the stranger’s remark. It wasn’t at all foolish to admit that you were not quite an artist’s audience, though the man was insistent in doubling down. But Lenny had never been really one to pick a fight, least of all in such a public establishment. “I think they stopped finding novel techniques a long time ago. Unless you count mixed media, but contemporary’s never really been my thing…” They trailed off, berating themselves internally. Surely, they could stand to lose some snobbery. Instead, they drew focus on the other's next words — “Hold up, you got a bar?”

#( thread; lenny robertson 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"I'm not scared, I'm just not an idiot." he quips dryly. "A man never forgets almost being force-fed a worm as a kid." Rhys reminds his younger brother. The Thompson children were absolute shit-stains to Rhys when they were younger, and he carried that disdain all the way through to his adult years. "My guy is better than yours." a gentle frown settles upon Rhys' brow as he patiently watches and listens to Julian's incessant rambling. "Are you quite finished? Maybe you need to go find yourself a female drug dealer, seems you've got quite the itch to scratch."

julian puts on a exaggerated pout at the blatant rejection; though it's not something he's not used to when it comes to rhys. it doesn't mean he'll back down from the challenge, though. if anything, it makes him want to keep trying. "what, you scared? they're organic, rhys. you ever heard of anyone dying from eating too much broccoli?" he snorts, mocking the thought. "or do you think your guy is better than my guy? do you even have a guy? or is it a girl? 'cause girls can be drug dealers, too. they're probably better for it. you don't have to worry 'bout hygiene and contamination and shit. generally, anyway."

#( thread; julian thompson 02. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"You are a fucking genius." he patted Harry heavily on the shoulder with a grin stretched almost ear to ear. "You want in? We can do this together. I mean, you're basically an accomplice to this already, may as well dive in the deep end." Rhys shrugged, although that was largely how he viewed most things in life. Why dip your toes in when you can dive in the deep end and truly experience Icarus' fall from grace? "I fucking hate Karens. They're one of the many reasons why I avoid Carriage Falls, at all costs. You ever see me in there, then assume I've been drugged and/or held there against my will."

"Exactly. Save that reveal for the documentary. You know, few years into retirement, royalties are drying up, shock sells, bring them back, go out with a bang." It was a complete load of rubbish, and Harry was more than entirely aware of that, but what was life if not committing to even the dumbest bit? Or something. Maybe it'd just been a long day, and maybe it was just nice to see a friendly face. And to laugh, which he did when he caught the rest of what Rhys was saying, Harry shaking his head at the image it conjured, and grinning as he looked up at the other man. "Dude, it'll be the talk of book club. Karen's gonna change your life."

#( thread; harrison hayes 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"Someone's gotta knock 'em down a peg or two when they're charging this much for their work." he joked lightly, shrugging his shoulders at his words. Kian was one of the very few who would never judge the nonsense that spewed from Rhys' mouth because he'd probably heard it all by now, and then some. "Nope." Rhys purposely popped the syllable. "No- No you're not. I guess we're just not art people?" he questioned with a frown as he turned to look at Kian. "Then what kind of people are we?" Rhys posed, taking a much needed sip of his coffee.

Kian looked at the art displayed on the walls and he had to admit, he truly didn't get it. Then again, he wasn't an art guy. What the hell did he know about art? Rhys' remark had him chuckling under his breath, though. "Leave it to you to make fun of other people's hard work. Can you not see the beauty in this piece?" he pointed at one that looked like a giant pile of rainbow poop—head tilted to the side. "Yeah, not sure about this one. I'm not the only one seeing this as unicorn turd, right?" The question came out quieter than he would usually speak—in case the creator was in attendance.

#( thread; kian lawson 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

"I can be whatever you need, sweetheart." he commented with a smile, his gaze lingering upon her for a moment too long. "Trust me, if there's one thing I've learnt about being around kids is to avoid meltdowns, at all costs. It'll make it an easier ride for everyone involved." although Rhys spoke from his brief time of being around children, as it was something he generally avoided. "I'm just helping out, trying to get out in the community where I can." as much as he hated what this town represented for his family, it meant more than that to himself. It was his home, where he had built himself up from the ground. "Good, I'm glad." Rhys smiled. "Next time you need to trade a record, you know where I'll be."

continued from here.

Noticing who the man was, her expression softened. "I guess you're just my lucky charm then." She took the scissors from him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, you're a lifesaver. The last thing I want is a meltdown." She glanced around at the bustling activity, her expression warm as she watched the children's excitement. It was great to see the community coming together like this. This was the reason she volunteered. Her gaze drifted back to Rhys and asked. "So, what brings you out here today?" Not that it mattered, by being here, he was helping to revive the economy. "I never did get a chance to thank you properly for the vinyl. My baba loved it." The look on his face as they spoke over video chat showed how much he loved his gift.

#( thread; hazal akman 02. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )

[rhysbradley]

His eyes followed her every movement, from the way she plucked the napkin, to the way she held up her proud masterpiece. "Well fuck me." his blew out a breath through his lips, his eyes widening at her art. "Alright, I'll give you $10,000." Rhys nodded confidently. "No wait, what am I thinking? This is worth way more. $20,000." he finally settled on. "Add a little smudge of lipstick on there and you'll have these art buffs begging on their knees for it." he joked in amusement.

Maybe she wasn’t emotional enough to feel choked up seeing a few strokes of paint on a canvas. It was a wonder she was even here. But it had been a suggested to her that she needed to ‘loosen up’ these days. And an invite thrust into her hands, she ended up finding herself at this event. She cast a glance over at the man whose name was hardly unknown to her. Even if she was likely unknown to him. Taking a cocktail napkin, she dipped the corner of it in the remaining wine in her glass, allowing the dark color to seep through and stain the temporary canvas. Holding up the final product she spoke. “And I didn’t even need shrooms.” | @rhysbradley 

#( thread; lily johnson 01. ) #( event 01; springtide bash. )