No Contest Book 1 Learning the Rules: the Early 80s
Chapter 28

Copyright© 2018 by Maxicue

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 28 - Brilliant best friends compete over women and fame. Competition can be brutal to friendship. The first of three books. A decade separates each book.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   MaleDom   Polygamy/Polyamory  

The show did better than Joe expected, with expectation tamping down hope so as not to be disappointed. No sell outs that first weekend, but the majority of the four hundred seats had butts in them.

Each performance ended with different sets of congratulators after. Friday had the family contingent. Mom and Dad and sister. Eddie’s mom and dad and brother. Belle’s mother and cousins, of which there were several, most grease monkeys like her who would never have expected to spend a Friday in a theater, but by and large they seemed to enjoy it. In fact it seemed a significant percentage of his rural town showed up. Perhaps fifty family members and fellow graduates and those who had a year of two to go before graduating. Others of the pre or post high school graduate type also filled the audience, with a smattering of college students interested in theater and dance. Many more of the latter would come Saturday.

The many students, along with their professors or teachers, showed up because of Joanne. Much of her mailings had been directed towards them, using lists gleaned from the participants of the one act festival as well as having Mary network with her fellow theater teachers. As far as the college students, most having the summer off, Joanne made extraordinary effort contacting them. Visiting campuses during summer sessions and meeting with Liberal Arts secretaries and teachers, most lower rung or graduate students, giving them the video and already stamped mailers just needing to be addressed to vacationing students and professors. None, including Joanne, thought it would result in a lot of audience. But it did. A couple bucks off on tickets for the Saturday performances with student IDs made those evenings show Joanne’s surprising success.

The first Saturday also had the local theater scene come to the show. The guy and girl from Red Eye and Jennifer from Frank Theater interested in directing Joe’s play must have spread the news. It helped that a lot of the local theaters weren’t producing shows in the latter part of August. That several of these experienced professionals congratulated him, sometimes effusively, blew his mind.

When the Red Eye contingent and Jennifer could finally take him aside, the news they brought both pleased and disappointed.

“We want to do your play, Joe,” the woman from Red Eye told him.

“And I want to direct it,” said Jennifer. “I told you I wanted to discuss reworking your full length a certain way, and it turns out the one act fits perfectly with my vision.”

“Oh,” Joe said. His smile dwindled. “So...”

“No, Joe, I decided Frank Theater isn’t a good fit with your play. I was on the fence, especially considering the revising I thought the play needed, and, well, I don’t know if it would have been fair. You’re a real talent, Joe. Especially considering how young you are. I’d love it if you sent me everything you write. And maybe you can see one of my shows, to give you the style and focus I tend towards. I really like your language. It’s what attracted me. The stylized realism. A beautiful realism, but with a menace to it. Definitely my thing, but in a way that’s why I don’t want to fuck with it. But the one act ... I want to spread my wings a bit. Open things up. Take a chance more than I can with my own theater, and within a more restricted time that can make things extreme but not too much.”

“When...” he stuttered. “Have you decided on the dates?”

Red Eye wanted to wait to see how things came together with their new space before setting down the specific nights of the one act performances.

“The third weekend in September,” said the man. “It’s soon, but we’re thinking a pretty short rehearsal time. No more than a couple weeks, and there’ll probably be construction at least during that first week.”

“We want to get our season going as soon as possible, Joe,” said the woman. “Early December for our first show.”

“Sure,” Joe said. Turning back to Jennifer, a big boned blonde who towered over the Red Eye woman and had a couple inches on the man, he asked her, “How much input would you expect from me?”

“It’s pretty solid, though I do have a significant change in mind. Actually what I wanted to do with the full length.”

“What’s that?”

“Reverse genders.”

“Hunh. Wow. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Problem is I’m going to be busy. We’re taking my show to Chicago for a couple weeks. We’ll be heading down there just after Labor Day. I’d be free the weekend of the one act performances, but not a lot before then. You said you wanted to meet on Monday.”

“You still want to?”

“It would have to be later. I’ll be several miles south Sunday night, and it might be a long night, so...”

“I’m pretty free next week. Mostly dealing with planning and finances for Frank.”

“You have a season coming up too?”

Jennifer chuckled. “Frank doesn’t really have seasons. Frank is me, Joe. Something I find strikes me as having to be done. I can spend months on it. If it works at the theater I use...”

“The one on Nicollet, right?”

“Yeah. If it works there, I’ll tour it. Chicago. New York. West Coast. I have contacts. I’ve had gigs as guest director because of those tours. Mostly in New York.”

“It’s possible my play might be done at the Public there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. A friend of mine, Moira. She goes to NYU. She’s doing this project with some fellow students. Putting on a show, basically, and she wants to use my play. At least I think she still wants to do my show. She used to be my girlfriend.”

“That could be a problem,” she laughed.

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure if it is or not. I think we’re still friends. She really does like my play.”

“I don’t blame her. When would the show happen?”

“Probably at the end of the semester, like a final.”

“Fall semester?”

“Yeah.”

“So some time in December.”

“Probably.”

“They open to outside advisors?”

“They’d be foolish not to. It’s all about learning isn’t it? I’d think the most substantial and diverse the advice the better.”

“Do you have her number?”

“I do,” he said, pulling out a card from his wallet. One of her dad’s business cards with numbers written on the back. “I’m not sure which number will get her,” he pointed at the two. “She’s watching one of her professor’s place this summer. That’s the first number. The second is her dad’s. If nothing else, you could leave a message there.”

“Let me write them down,” said Jennifer, pulling a pad out of her big purse.

“You’re really thinking about calling her?” he asked as he held the card and she copied the numbers.

“I am. If nothing else, I can see your play in performance.”

“Maybe we could call her when we meet. I haven’t spoken to her in too long. If we do meet, I’d like it to be a day or a long evening. To work on the play.”

“Like I said, I’m pretty free.”

“How about Tuesday to be safe. We could make a day of it. Work as long as you want. And you said you’re dealing with finances?”

“Yeah. Not my favorite thing. A necessary evil.”

“Do you know Joanne?”

“She helped me with the Garage. My theater.”

“I’m actually sort of her assistant.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s not a traditional working relationship. I basically work from home. I’m hardly ever at her office.”

“Why not?”

“I ... I’m also her live-in baby sitter. Her nanny I guess. So while I’m working on grants and proposals, I watch her kids.”

He could see her reaction. Her figuring things out. But he had to give her credit not pursuing her suspicions.

“If you’re looking after her kids, maybe it would be best if I came to you,” she offered.

“Arrangements could be made, but that actually might be best. She’s got a house in Kenwood.”

“Nice.”

“It is.”

“And convenient. I have an apartment just off Loring Park.”

“Cool.”

“You’re really willing to relinquish your play?”

“I am. Especially since it would be really hard for me to direct it. But it’s also something I haven’t experienced. I’ve always directed my plays. All two of them,” he laughed.

“I liked what you did with this one.”

“Thanks. And I guess to toot my horn, the first won the high school one act festival.”

“This one was in it too.”

“Yeah. Didn’t win. Not for best. For most creative.”

“Yeah. I can see that,” she chuckled. “So ... Tuesday.”

“Yep.”

They shook hands. She had big hands for a woman. Soft. No power struggle like a man might, or wimpy like some men he shook hands with. Firm. Confident. A hand he felt good about handing his play to.

Sunday was just as full and a lot more diverse. Some of each contingent. Students. Theater people. Others. Word of mouth Joe thought. Some rockers showed up. Most probably no more theater wise than Belle’s cousins. And the Sunday papers both had good reviews of it. Not raves necessarily. Potential was the worst description, and unique was the best. One leaned more towards being patronizing. Low budget settings and amateur actors and dancers doing better than expected. A lot better, he thought. But the music was praised by both, especially Eddie. And, well, the writing.

Lori showed up as promised. She and Cheryl sat together, front and center. He saw them hold hands.

He could see sadness in her smile. “It was magical, Joe,” she said.

“But...” he replied.

That confused her. He could tell she wanted to continue her praise, but Cheryl stopped her.

“Ted’s coming home,” his fiancé informed him.

“When?” he asked.

“Any minute,” said Lori. “I told him about your show. He wanted me waiting at my home. I told him to leave a message when he gets home.”

“He doesn’t live with you?”

“I’m too independent for that,” she smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “You should call him.”

“What?” Cheryl exclaimed.

“You want to find out about this dance, right?” he asked Lori.

“I brought the masks, and pictures of the masks,” Lori chuckled. “How indecisive is that?”

“The masks in person are better?”

“Much.”

“Call him. Invite him to Constance’s. It’s really nice there. Like going to a retreat.”

“His life has been hell,” Lori nodded. “He ... He called me last night. Late. After his gig in Des Moines. Had to talk to him all night to improve his mood. Basically nobody came to this shitty little bar. Except the drunk usuals.”

“Did you improve his mood?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. And blushed. “The boys kicked him out of their room. Had to get his own, not that it cost all that much. But that let us ... you know.”

“Phone sex,” said Cheryl.

“Yes Cheryl. I mean, when he called, I was annoyed. The whining. But the more we talked, the more I remembered why I liked him. Loved him. Whatever. I don’t know.”

“The discussion about you not being home?” Cheryl asked.

“Before the phone sex. Had to have him relax again. Joe. You know what he expects.”

“Reunion sex,” he said. “Do you miss him?”

“I know I didn’t for a while. I don’t know. I think I have to see him.”

“What if I come along,” Cheryl suggested. “We could really blow his mind.”

Lori laughed. “You really are something else.”

“Something else or something special?” Cheryl asked her, taking her into her arms and kissing her. Lori eventually relaxed into it.

“Cheryl,” she murmured after.

“Just listen,” Cheryl gazed into her eyes. “I come with you for this reunion. You find out how much you miss him. If you do, I join you. With him. Okay?”

Lori nodded, gaining a much shorter kiss.

“Good,” Cheryl giggled. “Then we make the pitch. This is an amazing opportunity for you. We’re going to this really cool, really relaxing mansion in the middle of the woods. He can relax and have fun after his torturous tour.”

“And he can have more of you,” Lori shook her head.

“That’s part of it, but what if you tell him I’m his gift. His homecoming gift. Just to see how he reacts.”

“I should be the center of his attention.”

“Yes.”

“And if he passes his test and joins us...” Lori looked at Joe and back at Cheryl. “Joe.”

“Joe. And me, Lori. And me.”

“And you, Cheryl,” Lori giggled, pulling her into a kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Are you going to call him?” he asked.

“If he’s home now, we’ll surprise him. If not, we’ll wait for him.”

“In a hurry?”

“Yes. If not him, for you, Joe. You’re okay with this?”

“I’m okay with this,” he smiled.

“You guys are so weird,” she shook her head. “See you Joe.”

“Just a second,” said Cheryl. She embraced and kissed Joe. “See you later, stud.”

“See you, babe.”

Constance came up to him moments later, Caroline, as usual, with her. “What was that about?” she asked.

“Cheryl being Cheryl,” he chuckled.

“Is she joining us?”

“She’ll drive up later. With Lori.”

“The girl at Jack’s,” said Caroline.

“Yeah.”

“The girl with the masks,” said Constance.

“Yeah.”

“She’ll be by later?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m definitely curious.”

“Me too.”

“Ready?”

“I need to talk to Joanne.”

“Of course.”

He went to Joanne, her two kids beside her. She had missed the other shows to watch them. Charlie looked sleepy. Essie, the opposite. She actually stood on her chair, practically hopping.

“Did you like it Essie?”

“It was so great, Joe! You made it?”

“I did,” he grinned

“It was like being in a dream. Even a nightmare. But okay. And those pretty dancers all around us. So pretty. I want to dance. Mommy said I can.”

“You’d be a wonderful dancer, my angel.”

Her arms lifted. He embraced her, her feet dangling. “You’re wonderful Joe,” she murmured, kissing his cheek.

“That’s the best thing anyone said about me,” he told her.

“Really?”

“Really. Did you understand?”

“I think so. Sometimes life is a dream. Sometimes a dream is life.”

“Holy shit!” he thought.

“Yes, sweetheart. That’s exactly what I meant.”

“Wonderful.”

“Thanks.”

“You can put me down now.”

“Okay,” he chuckled, setting her down on the floor and giving her cheek a kiss. When he stood up straight, he gave a kiss to Joanne. This one on her lips. “You made an angel,” he whispered.

“When she feels like it,” Joanne smirked.

“True,” he chuckled. “So...”

“How early can you be home?”

“Noon?”

“Okay. I can take the morning off.”

“You’re your own boss,” he reminded her.

“A busy boss,” she reminded him.

“I’ll work when I get home.”

“Please.”

They looked at each other, not being demonstrative in front of her kids. It had been a loving weekend with him and her and Cheryl. Just the three of them. Cheryl and Joe would be with Joanne, and then be with each other, having sated their other lover. Everyone else seemed to have parties after the show. Cheryl and Joe went to one after Friday’s performance. A keger one of the high school kids who helped Simon knew about. Eddie enjoyed it, drinking and smoking pot and doing some of Rachel’s coke. And scoring a young bi girl. But Cheryl and Joe left after a beer and a couple tokes. To relax. With Joanne. Much better company. Not to mention the sex. And they would get up early. Watch the kids. Work. Saturday they didn’t bother with the party. Went home early. Fucked Joanne early. Slept early. Woke up early.

Nigella was notably absent pretty much since the Wednesday Monsters show. She let him know she’d been staying with her dad. No rehearsal so she didn’t really need to be with them. That would end on Monday with Eddie back to practicing.

Constance stuck with Caroline. Becoming best friends. Not lovers. That would happen later.

So it was just Cheryl and Joanne. Joe’s loves.

Before they headed to Constance’s, the group ate at the sandwich shop across from the theater. Freddy, Simon, Simon’s girl, a constant companion, Simone since he was her transportation as well as their lover, Caroline, who’d leave for Chicago from Constance’s the next morning, Bruce because he really wanted to work with Constance again, and she with him, Tim because he was Bruce’s lover and his ride, and of course Constance. Partly celebration, partly hunger, mostly they figured out logisitics.

“I’ll ride with Caroline,” Constance decided. “Why don’t you take my car, Joe?”

“Love to, but what about getting mine?”

“You can drive me into town tomorrow.”

“You’re going to stay at Joanne’s?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll get a hotel room. It was fun staying at Caroline’s.”

“You want some alone time?”

“That and a tradition chatting with Max. It’ll be easier with Caroline with her on speaker phone.”

“Is that what you two were doing?” he quipped.

“What do you think we were doing?” asked Caroline.

“No comment.”

“Just talking,” Caroline winked at him. He believed her. He didn’t get the wink. Until later.

Logistics figured out, Freddy accompanying him, a train of cars headed south.

“How’s Luke?” he asked her after agreeing with her about the amazing plushness, luxury and power of Constance’s Mercedes two seat roadster.

“He’s great!” she replied. “He’s planning to see the show next Sunday, and help us tear it down. I think it’ll take that long to get up his nerve,” she chuckled.

“He really is that shy?”

“He’s terribly sensitive in a terrible family. I think his mom is the only one who understands, but she isn’t the best to help him. Because she had to learn to cope, and expects him to do the same. But I think however much she had to buck up as she would call it, giving into the roughness and cruelty and insensitivity of her husband, she doesn’t get that Luke is much more sensitive than she ever was.”

“How did she end up marrying this asshole?” he asked.

“Looks. They’re both prime specimens of their gender. Where do you think Luke’s attractiveness, his handsomeness and his beauty came from? It’s the old story of the quarterback and the head cheerleader, only it didn’t end in high school, mostly because of the merger of families. I know. Old school. But there it is. And, well, they were a couple.”

“And what they do?”

“Slaughtering pigs? It’s his job. Has been since he was little. I don’t know if he’s desensitized so much as it’s what he’s done and what he will continue to do. It’s his job and his inheritance.”

“So he’s stuck?”

“Pretty much. I mean, I’ve been pretty open with him. About the cruelty of killing contrasting his beautiful soul. But it’s not like I haven’t been part of the same thing, only not so ... relentlessly I guess. I cried when my favorite chicken got slaughtered. And I was doing the slaughtering. I had to learn. Probably a rite of passage for anyone wanting pets rather than meat from any animal raised to be harvested. So I understand his justification. Justifiable cruelty. Somehow all those tins of Spam have to be filled. Tons and tons of it. It’s his job Joe, his family’s business, someday his business when he takes over. He went to the U of M. His father sent him to the U of M. Studying agricultural business and everything about raising and killing pigs, from the feed to the machinery involved with their death. His shyness ended up making him a decent student, because he wasn’t about to party. But he made sure his electives involved the visual arts. That’s where he thrives. Home is work. Art is life.”

“You two are serious?”

“Yeah, Joe.”

“Like marrying?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t mind?”

Freddy laughed. “Okay, I’d love to be his wife. He’s the sweetest man I ever met. And I have to say very trainable in bed.”

“I guess it’s inevitable it will be monogamous with his shyness. You seem suited to it. My not being pretty much short-circuited our relationship.”

“True. But my relationship with him and with you aren’t all that different.”

“Really?”

“We’re friends, just like I’ve always been with you no matter how official our relationship might have been. Best friends. And there’s another aspect. One I’ve shared with him and it turns him on.”

“What’s that?”

“Our relationship with Belle.”

“You told him about that?”

“I told him about everything. Just like he tells me everything. That subject just happens to be a favorite. Useful to tease him. It really turns him on.”

“You being with a woman or...”

“Yeah. I think he just wants to watch. But ... I’d kind of like watching him fuck someone. Like I liked you fucking Belle. And...”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Frederica?”

“Shit. Sometimes I just can’t help myself.”

He laughed. “That’s what I love about you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know how funny this will be. Fuck! Okay. Like I said, I told him about us and Belle. What else was going on?”

“What else?”

“Yeah Joe. Kind of a significant something. Involving Belle in your house and not necessarily with us.”

“Mom!”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. So he’s met my mom?”

“Yeah. You know she likes me and she misses you and she’s invited us to dinner a couple times.”

“You and Luke.”

“Yeah. Wanted to meet your replacement as she called him. Luke was nervous that first time. Him being Luke, but also ... that weird thing going on with Belle.”

“But not you.”

“Guilt by association? I don’t know.”

“But you’ve never been interested in my mom like that.”

“You’re mom’s hot, Joe.”

“If you say so. But even if Belle joined, it wasn’t her pussy you enjoyed. Her mouth yes, on yours if I recall, but...”

“It was there Joe. I might not have attended to it. I guess ... your mom...”

“Yeah.”

“It was there though. I certainly didn’t object. I did touch it. I tasted it, maybe not directly.”

“You did?”

“Of course. Clit rubbing. A couple times I shoved my finger in to give her and you a bit more tightness I guess. And being the curious sort, I made sure I tasted her. On your mouth too. I certainly didn’t object to the taste. Maybe I should have tasted her directly, but you seemed to enjoy it more. And maybe, seeing you enjoy her turned me on so much I, I don’t know, just wanted to be fucked too. Sex with you has always been intense.”

“But ... my mom ... is that something you want?”

“I don’t know. I know Luke would. Like I was saying, that first evening, he really did calm down pretty quickly. Well, maybe not calm. He was sort of in awe of her. Maybe imagining Belle with your mom, or me. But your mom, she’s so sweet. I told her before how shy he was, and she just did everything possible to get him to relax. Keeping things light. Joking. Luke is a bright guy, so they traded barbs. And it got more and more ... salacious? Teasing. I mean, Luke is hot so...”

“So she’s interested in him?”

“Yeah. But...”

“It would only work if you and mom...”

“Yeah.”

“In other words you’d do it for him.”

“Like I said, your mom’s hot.”

“Frederica?”

“Okay. Yes. He likes her. He’s comfortable with her. If Belle were available...”

“She and Claire are definitely exclusive.”

“I’m so glad I matched them.”

“Me too. So have you asked Mom... ?”

“No. I ... don’t know how I could just...”

He sighed. “Talk to Belle.”

“How... ?”

“She knows my mom like I obviously never could. Or would ever want to.”

“Belle!” Freddy smiled.

“What?”

“That’s genius, Joe! Oh shit, you probably don’t know.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“Just tell me,” he sighed.

“Your mom visits them. When your dad’s off with ... whoever.”

“My sister?”

“With her friends. Do you think she... ?”

“As often as she has sleepovers, probably.”

“A boy?”

“I haven’t a clue, but it would surprise me if her and her friends liked to play.”

“Why?”

“Just the way a couple of them check me out.”

“Your sister checks you out too.”

“No way.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to see what her friends see.”

“Must be,” he laughed. “So ... Belle and Claire aren’t completely exclusive.”

“Probably not.”

“So?”

“I don’t know. Claire would be the problem. I don’t think she’s been around or wants to be around a cock.”

“Unlike Belle.”

“Yeah. And it couldn’t be at Belle’s place.”

“Luke.”

“And Claire,” Freddy nodded. “You know? Fuck it. I’ll talk to Belle. Maybe for old time’s sake Claire will let her out. It would only have to be one night.”

“To get Luke comfortable with it.”

“Maybe all of us. Me and your mom. Like you said, your mom might even be a little weirded out with your ex in bed with her. Luke might have interested her, but I don’t think I was ever looked at that way.”

“As hot as you are?”

“I’m just a skinny little girl.”

“With a world class ass.”

“Compared to Nigella? Or Cheryl?”

“Yep. And you’re easily as pretty.”

“Then Cheryl?”

“Different. Cheryl’s...”

“Cute.”

“Yeah.”

“Like mind boggling cute.”

“Like I said.”

“You think I’m that pretty?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re biased.”

He shrugged. “You do have a world class ass.”

“It’s what must have caught Luke’s attention.”

“You caught Luke’s attention. All of you, inside and out.”

“Probably,” she laughed.

“You know I saw you fucking. He looks as good in you as he does beside you.”

“I do know. I kind of hoped you’d get a glance. I saw you go off into the woods with those girls and Cheryl. I’d hoped you’d catch us.”

“You did?”

“I did. I fucked him there on purpose. I had Luke facing the lake. Didn’t want to freak him out. Yeah I caught you watching. It made me cum. Like I was connected to you cosmically I guess while being connected physically and emotionally with Luke. I actually thought you did connect with me. Later I thought you might not have, or knowing you you would have said something or gave me some secret smile or something. It didn’t matter. It was the moment. An incredible moment. So you got to see Luke in the flesh.”

“Yeah. If I was in the least bit gay, I’d be interested.”

“He gets that. Men and women.”

“Has he been with...”

“He’s as gay as you are. With women, only once. A girl who sounds an awful lot like Rachel.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I mean he was an adolescent. Horny all the time. She was a hot slut. It didn’t go well.”

“I can imagine.”

“I had to be very patient,” Freddy smiled. “But it was worth it.”

“Obviously. So you’re actually going to wait for him to propose.”

“Isn’t that... ?”

“With him, no. He’s pathologically shy. What does that tell you about his self-worth?”

“But he’s so fucking delicious.”

“He obviously doesn’t think so. You think he’s beautiful. Beautifully built. Beautiful mind. He thinks he’s a freak. Freakishly built. A weird mind. Not worthy of having an acquaintance, let alone a friend, let alone a lover. Though he’s thankful as all get out, he doesn’t understand what you see in him.”

“You’re kidding. But I’ve told him.”

“Told him what?”

“His art...”

“Is he good?”

“Truthfully? No. I mean, technically, he’s better than me. But it’s all precision, no...”

“Passion?”

“Yeah, how...”

“Kind of blank.”

“Yeah.”

“Like him.”

“He’s not...”

“When is he not blank?”

“Talking. When we’re intimate. He definitely enjoys my enjoyment of him.”

“Surprises him.”

“I suppose it does.”

“What does he draw or paint best?”

“Buildings actually.”

“Imagined?”

“Not ... not for anyone to see.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has two books. His sketch book and this small blank book. He keeps the small one close to him. But I snuck a peak.”

“You felt like you had to sneak it?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“Buildings. Like really fantastic buildings.”

“His passion. Tell him to paint them.”

“Then I’d have to...”

“Yep. You want to marry the guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So confront him. Show him what you see in him. Everything you see. Let him see himself through your eyes. Be completely and utterly truthful, including how useless his art is.”

“Except the little drawings.”

“Exactly. Tell him he should make them big. Or at least let them out of his little cage. Maybe a cartoon if they’re fantasy buildings. That’s what you meant?”

“Both. Fantasy and pretty great.”

“Has he drawn you?”

“In the book. I think he’s a little afraid...”

“That he won’t do you justice?”

“Yes.”

“You should draw each other. Have fun with it, but it would actually be serious. Like caricatures. But really about...”

“What we truly see. Wow, that’s hard.”

“Is it? I remember how you drew me. And Belle.”

 
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