A new little comic book (format A6, 24 pages).
You can read it there :
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New tutorials for a fast digital coloring style you can expand on. Contact me if you would like a private session for a small fee for anything you may want to improve on.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8OD4IUeRab4
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-G_33oyjHQ
YULE (circa December 21)
(Winter Solstice, December 20-23 (varies according to the particular date on the standard calendar according to when the Solstice will occur astronomically)). Longest night of the year, the turning point when the days shall afterwards grow longer as winter begins its passage into the coming spring. It is, in the Goddess worship, the time when she gives forth again to the birth of the Divine Sun child who shall be both child and eventually lover and father of the next child in the cycle. Winter Solstice for pagans is a time of feasting and the exchanging of gifts and is the original Holiday that the Christian religions modified into their own Christmas, even up to the birth of the child (Most theologians who have spent time studying the birth of Jesus admit he was born in either March or April, not the celebrated Christmas date we all know from the standard calendar - it was moved to this date to help induce Pagans to give up their old ways yet allow them their holidays during the spread of Christianity through Europe and the British Isles). Traditional adornments are a Yule Log, usually of oak, and a combination of mistletoe and holly (also all later plagiarized into Christian ways).
Holiday Season 2015 and 2Cor9:6-15
All Souls Day, Los Dias de Muertos, Thanksgiving, Veteran’s Day and Christmas are among the hundreds of days in a year created by God, and every day should be celebrated. But they are also special opportunities to worship God and love others, to celebrate the good things in the world and people around us. Rather than grousing at the tawdry commercialism that is once again revving up its tired songs and plastic decor, we can take the season as a challenge: surely we can out-love and outshine such heartless displays. Giving and sharing should be both planned and spontaneous, 2Cor9:6-15, starting early and gleefully with anticipation of the splashes of love and thankfulness that will spray back on us.
Let no artist shrink back from the challenge to show love and giving and joy this season, starting now.
In December, the Monroe Free Library will be exhibiting some of my artwork from AN ACT OF FAITH...
https://www.facebook.com/al.nickerson.3/posts/10205234356554169
#anactoffaithcomic #comics #MonroeFreeLibrary
Happy Back to the Future day everyone, now I'm gonna go watch part 2.
The bright morning star greeted everyone to a new day. In a condominium, still lost in sleep. Taylor Harchett dreamt about the most wonderful of times she remembered as a child. The chuckles and snickers from soldiers outside could not wake her, not now. She savored every minim, the laughter continuing outside of her closed blinds only added liveliness to her dream. She dreamt of a time when she could smile. A time where life had so many possibilities. A time when her father could make every moment worthwhile.
An elevated Caucasian man looked down on Taylor. She stood only to his knees. Her skin coated with a hint of reddish brown, a gift from her mother. She fidgeted with her cute sundress; pulling loose strings of fabric off with a huff and puff every time she found a new one.
“Daddy’s Big Dreamer?” her father knelt down.
Taylor sent an inquisitive look his way. She knew her father all too well.
“Yes, papa?” she replied.
“Daddy’s Big Dreamer?” he asked once more.
“Yes, papa?”
“How do you get so darn beautiful every time I see you in the morning?” he finally asked.
“Geez, I don’t know papa. Why do you bring me to these “wondrous’ places?” Taylor’s eyes rolled as her arms went into a supreme fold.
Donald, her father, always knew how upset she would get when she couldn’t have him all to herself. He quickly snatched Taylor off the ground, setting her carefully on his broad shoulders. Delicate giggles lead to Taylor slapping his head for entertainment. It was her favorite pastime. That and hiding his old collection of novels he received from the Eastern Seas.
Taylor’s room received no light. Everything within it had no choice but to embrace the gloomy setting. Outside of her dream, a few moans and mutters were voiced. The conversation she and her father continued within her dream crept its way to reality. Seeing the vividness of her father’s features caused her to clench on her sleep a little while longer. This would be one of the only moments where she could see her father again, outside of white roses and tombstones.
Taylor looked around the huge military facility. All the men present caused her to take notice to something in particular.
“It’s so many men papa, where’s all the woman?”
Donald smirked. “Women baby girl, wo-men. A majority of them have physical training today. All Alpines need to be physically fit, no matter what occupation”.
“Oh. Well, I want to be strong too! Like the woman with the shiny head on TV!”
“Ooh! Well, you better start taking your classes seriously then. Not to mention that I pay 300 rai for them every month” he replied.
Standing on a staircase, a few feet from the center of the room where Taylor and her father stood in, a fair tone man turned blood red.
“Joah! Where are you, Cross!?”
Within a split second, a young man, around the age of 11 years old, ran down a long hallway connecting all the many routes of the building to the center. The marbled floor clicked and clacked to his loafers picking up pace.
“Coming sir, I’m sorry that I’m lat-” he squeaked.
Losing his footing, he tripped over his own legs. In his hands, he carried an enormous stack of restricted files. Each paper slithered across many directions, escaping his reach. One file tapped Donald’s shoe. He picked up the paper, examining the boldness of the font. Taylor loved to read, she couldn’t resist the new finding. “Declassification of Cpt. Strugner, Barron, Von”, startling words, Donald’s eyes grew stern.
The young intern scrambled to pick up every last sheet. Donald gave him a hand, Taylor watched her father show another of his great attributes.
“Th-thank you, sir. I’m grateful for your help, but I will take care of the rest” the boy straightened all the papers so they all lined up perfectly in a stack.
“Joah, I’m waiting,” The impatient official, stood waiting on the steps, tapping his shoes on the floor.
“I’m coming sir!” he turned to Donald and took a glimpse at Taylor, “Thank you, both of you for your help”. He sprinted to the first step of the staircase, firmly holding the files.
“You knew I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, Cross. You keep causing more work for yourself. I can’t keep babying you! This time you’ll know what it means to slack off on responsibility” the red-faced individual said, folding his arms as he blew steam out his nose.
“Ring! Ring!”
“What? What is going on? What is he saying?”, the words coming out of the man’s mouth confused Taylor.
“Ring, Ring, Ring!”, The constant high volume noise caused distortion within her dream. The room around her twined and swirled into a whirlpool of primary colors. She urgently looked down to see if her father was still there.
“It’s alright big dreamer, you just got to wake up now” his face transfigured into a smeared abstract painting, the vibrant funnel pulled him in. Everything went pitch-dark.
“Huh!? Wha-what is going on?” Taylor sprung out her covers to discover a missed call.
“Arista? What is she doing? It’s too early in the day for this…” She redialed the number and waited for her friend to pick up.
“Hel-hello? Taylor?” uneasiness laid in her voice.
“Hey, what is going? You woke me up on my day off.” Taylor replied.
“…ummm,” Arista breathed deeply, “We’ve just got news that Hazzel and the others have been put in emergency care”.
The cordless phone slipped out of Taylors hands onto silk sheets.
“Hello? Taylor? Taylor!?” Arista called out.
She was lost in the moment. Being told that her best friends were injured or worse, dead made her heart sore. She stared at he black spaces between reality and her life. “Why? Are more people going to be taken from me?”, the force of her thoughts carried weight.
“Taylor, I’m coming over. Okay. I’ll be there in ten.” The phone clicked, Taylor still sat in her bed watching nothing but carried thoughts of everything.
“Knock! Knock!” a key jingled in the door. Arista walked inside to check on Taylor.
“Taylor? Where are you?” she then heard sheets move and pats on the carpet in her bedroom. She waited for Taylor to come out. Arista knew how hurt she had to be with what she told her over the phone. Taylor walked out, her hair long and slender with dry slobber on her right cheek.
“Hey, I wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to stop by” Taylor said.
Arista rummaged through her purse, pulled out a wet nap, and handed it over. “You sure about that? I’m sure everyone needs a friend during times likes these, Taylor. We are almost sisters; you are one of my dearest friends. I have to be here for you and I need you to be here for me.”
Taylor’s eyes gleamed with fresh tears waiting to be let out. “Okay. I’m glad you are here,” she made her way back inside her room, Arista followed. Taylor laid back on her bed, Arista took off her jacket and laid next to her.
“Hey, remember that time when you, me, Hazzel, Moe, Sol, and OG went into that strip club in Dover City?” Arista looked up at the ceiling, drawing imaginary lines as she awaited Taylor’s response. Taylor clenched her eyes shut and thought about those days. Acting out, well, somewhat acting out; her father brought her up to be a distinguished member of society.
She finally mustered up a reply. “That place was disgusting. I think one stripper had a board game prop for a rai in her-“
“Taylor! Hahaha,” Arista always found humor in Taylor’s odd observations. “No way but I do remember when you asked the bouncer if he had a girlfriend”.
“I was young. I thought he was noble. Saving those dancers everyday from scumbags and rapists.” Taylor straightened out her legs, Arista did the same. The two continuously shared stories for hours. Helpfully mending each others wounds.
“I talked to the Chairwoman and she said that Hazzel experienced heat stress when they landed. She hasn’t called so I’m having faith that he and everyone will make it through” Arista sat on the carpet, stretching out her left leg. Taylor still laid in her bed, too much action went on at this moment, she carefully watched the six blades rotate on her ceiling.
“I remember when we,” Arista stared at the unwashed uniform on Taylor’s floor, thinking of how to release her next words. “I remember when all of us met in Carocele, the summer before all the drama kicked in. We were happy then. You were happy, Taylor.”
Taylor held her eyes shut. She rode her thought train to her past. The memories she locked away long ago. Since her father died, she wanted to forget it all.
“Nothing good comes from dwelling on the past,” her awareness shifted, falling into a phantasy, reminiscing to those days that she loathed so much.
The bright morning star greeted everyone to a new day. In a condominium, still lost in sleep. Taylor Harchett dreamt about the most wonderful of times she remembered as a child. The chuckles and snickers from soldiers outside could not wake her, not now. She savored every minim, the laughter continuing outside of her closed blinds only added liveliness to her dream. She dreamt of a time when she could smile. A time where life had so many possibilities. A time when her father could make every moment worthwhile.
An elevated Caucasian man looked down on Taylor. She stood only to his knees. Her skin coated with a hint of reddish brown, a gift from her mother. She fidgeted with her cute sundress; pulling loose strings of fabric off with a huff and puff every time she found a new one.
“Daddy’s Big Dreamer?” her father knelt down.
Taylor sent an inquisitive look his way. She knew her father all too well.
“Yes, papa?” she replied.
“Daddy’s Big Dreamer?” he asked once more.
“Yes, papa?”
“How do you get so darn beautiful every time I see you in the morning?” he finally asked.
“Geez, I don’t know papa. Why do you bring me to these “wondrous’ places?” Taylor’s eyes rolled as her arms went into a supreme fold.
Donald, her father, always knew how upset she would get when she couldn’t have him all to herself. He quickly snatched Taylor off the ground, setting her carefully on his broad shoulders. Delicate giggles lead to Taylor slapping his head for entertainment. It was her favorite pastime. That and hiding his old collection of novels he received from the Eastern Seas.
Taylor’s room received no light. Everything within it had no choice but to embrace the gloomy setting. Outside of her dream, a few moans and mutters were voiced. The conversation she and her father continued within her dream crept its way to reality. Seeing the vividness of her father’s features caused her to clench on her sleep a little while longer. This would be one of the only moments where she could see her father again, outside of white roses and tombstones.
Taylor looked around the huge military facility. All the men present caused her to take notice to something in particular.
“It’s so many men papa, where’s all the woman?”
Donald smirked. “Women baby girl, wo-men. A majority of them have physical training today. All Alpines need to be physically fit, no matter what occupation”.
“Oh. Well, I want to be strong too! Like the woman with the shiny head on TV!”
“Ooh! Well, you better start taking your classes seriously then. Not to mention that I pay 300 rai for them every month” he replied.
Standing on a staircase, a few feet from the center of the room where Taylor and her father stood in, a fair tone man turned blood red.
“Joah! Where are you, Cross!?”
Within a split second, a young man, around the age of 11 years old, ran down a long hallway connecting all the many routes of the building to the center. The marbled floor clicked and clacked to his loafers picking up pace.
“Coming sir, I’m sorry that I’m lat-” he squeaked.
Losing his footing, he tripped over his own legs. In his hands, he carried an enormous stack of restricted files. Each paper slithered across many directions, escaping his reach. One file tapped Donald’s shoe. He picked up the paper, examining the boldness of the font. Taylor loved to read, she couldn’t resist the new finding. “Declassification of Cpt. Strugner, Barron, Von”, startling words, Donald’s eyes grew stern.
The young intern scrambled to pick up every last sheet. Donald gave him a hand, Taylor watched her father show another of his great attributes.
“Th-thank you, sir. I’m grateful for your help, but I will take care of the rest” the boy straightened all the papers so they all lined up perfectly in a stack.
“Joah, I’m waiting,” The impatient official, stood waiting on the steps, tapping his shoes on the floor.
“I’m coming sir!” he turned to Donald and took a glimpse at Taylor, “Thank you, both of you for your help”. He sprinted to the first step of the staircase, firmly holding the files.
“You knew I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, Cross. You keep causing more work for yourself. I can’t keep babying you! This time you’ll know what it means to slack off on responsibility” the red-faced individual said, folding his arms as he blew steam out his nose.
“Ring! Ring!”
“What? What is going on? What is he saying?”, the words coming out of the man’s mouth confused Taylor.
“Ring, Ring, Ring!”, The constant high volume noise caused distortion within her dream. The room around her twined and swirled into a whirlpool of primary colors. She urgently looked down to see if her father was still there.
“It’s alright big dreamer, you just got to wake up now” his face transfigured into a smeared abstract painting, the vibrant funnel pulled him in. Everything went pitch-dark.
“Huh!? Wha-what is going on?” Taylor sprung out her covers to discover a missed call.
“Arista? What is she doing? It’s too early in the day for this…” She redialed the number and waited for her friend to pick up.
“Hel-hello? Taylor?” uneasiness laid in her voice.
“Hey, what is going? You woke me up on my day off.” Taylor replied.
“…ummm,” Arista breathed deeply, “We’ve just got news that Hazzel and the others have been put in emergency care”.
The cordless phone slipped out of Taylors hands onto silk sheets.
“Hello? Taylor? Taylor!?” Arista called out.
She was lost in the moment. Being told that her best friends were injured or worse, dead made her heart sore. She stared at he black spaces between reality and her life. “Why? Are more people going to be taken from me?”, the force of her thoughts carried weight.
“Taylor, I’m coming over. Okay. I’ll be there in ten.” The phone clicked, Taylor still sat in her bed watching nothing but carried thoughts of everything.
“Knock! Knock!” a key jingled in the door. Arista walked inside to check on Taylor.
“Taylor? Where are you?” she then heard sheets move and pats on the carpet in her bedroom. She waited for Taylor to come out. Arista knew how hurt she had to be with what she told her over the phone. Taylor walked out, her hair long and slender with dry slobber on her right cheek.
“Hey, I wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to stop by” Taylor said.
Arista rummaged through her purse, pulled out a wet nap, and handed it over. “You sure about that? I’m sure everyone needs a friend during times likes these, Taylor. We are almost sisters; you are one of my dearest friends. I have to be here for you and I need you to be here for me.”
Taylor’s eyes gleamed with fresh tears waiting to be let out. “Okay. I’m glad you are here,” she made her way back inside her room, Arista followed. Taylor laid back on her bed, Arista took off her jacket and laid next to her.
“Hey, remember that time when you, me, Hazzel, Moe, Sol, and OG went into that strip club in Dover City?” Arista looked up at the ceiling, drawing imaginary lines as she awaited Taylor’s response. Taylor clenched her eyes shut and thought about those days. Acting out, well, somewhat acting out; her father brought her up to be a distinguished member of society.
She finally mustered up a reply. “That place was disgusting. I think one stripper had a board game prop for a rai in her-“
“Taylor! Hahaha,” Arista always found humor in Taylor’s odd observations. “No way but I do remember when you asked the bouncer if he had a girlfriend”.
“I was young. I thought he was noble. Saving those dancers everyday from scumbags and rapists.” Taylor straightened out her legs, Arista did the same. The two continuously shared stories for hours. Helpfully mending each others wounds.
“I talked to the Chairwoman and she said that Hazzel experienced heat stress when they landed. She hasn’t called so I’m having faith that he and everyone will make it through” Arista sat on the carpet, stretching out her left leg. Taylor still laid in her bed, too much action went on at this moment, she carefully watched the six blades rotate on her ceiling.
“I remember when we,” Arista stared at the unwashed uniform on Taylor’s floor, thinking of how to release her next words. “I remember when all of us met in Carocele, the summer before all the drama kicked in. We were happy then. You were happy, Taylor.”
Taylor held her eyes shut. She rode her thought train to her past. The memories she locked away long ago. Since her father died, she wanted to forget it all.
“Nothing good comes from dwelling on the past,” her awareness shifted, falling into a phantasy, reminiscing to those days that she loathed so much.
The latest issue of the Christian Booksellers Association magazine Retailers+Resources featured a solid review of 'The Lion Comic Book Hero Bible' featuring artwork by Jeff Anderson. See the review here:
Yep, Still drawing.
Alot has happened these past 3 or so weeks. Difficult to explain and probably too much to put in one blog post. I've been drawing more consistently than I have in a long time, and I want to be intentional about it. make it a daily habit instead of highs and lows, endure the times of no inspiration, lack of creative juice, no mojo etc, and attempt, even if it fails, the comps that are impossible.
I've been praying that God would use me through the trial or struggle immediately in front of me, and that's actually sparked a change. I'm not totally changed, but I do feel like I'm changing, and maturing. it's a process and I'm actually interested in seeing the end result.
Anyways, felt like posting so I drew Sinsear, a villain from the Cable series in the early '90s. I think he was the best villian ever, but he got killed off way to soon and the lamest of ways. He's probably been rebooted (like everything else) and is not nearly as cool or evil as he originally was.
Comments and critiques are welcome.
Hope to be posting more and more often.
I recently started sketching on my lunch break. i missed this so much, i always carried a sketch book with me everywhere i went. i the last few years i stopped drawing altogether. seeing God's glorious world
and capturing it in a quick sketch is a wonderful relaxing and rewarding way at least for me to give glory to Him who has given me everything.
Lookee what my mailbox gave me today...
#NYCC #comics #twd
http://albert.nickerson.tripod.com/conbadge2015.jpg
The Action Bible is setting a record for its long run on the Best Sellers List from the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association (ECPA).
As of the most recent report, it is currently at the #3 spot.
illustrated by Sergio Cariello, The Action Bible is the top selling product in the area of Christian comics/graphic novels.
You'll be able to see Sergio at the upcoming Alpha Omega Con. For more info, see www.AlphaOmegaCon.com.
There's oodles of my original comic book artwork for sale on the eBay...
#comics #comicbooks #elfquest #justiceleagueadventures #dccomics #justiceleague
'The Posse: Fugitives #1' has arrived! A jailbreak releases Devon Willis and Ulysses Sanchez onto the streets of the Decapolis with meta-human powers; one with vengeance on his mind and the other survival. Read it here!: http://app.beyondtimecomics.com/store/index
I am looking for an artist for my original comic that i intend to submit to Image.
I will pay for your time.
If any are interested friend me then message me.
-Thanks
Sean
Hey, Wandering Stargazer…
By: Pierre “WriterOfEpics” Gilson
At night, he ponders weighty thoughts of himself, friends, family, and strangers all around. A powerful sensation seizes him when he looks up beyond his reach. Strangely, he is not alone, we all are never truly alone.
“Hey, Wandering Stargazer.”
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
“Looking at the sky.”
Black oceanic palettes, spread endlessly. Tiny little light bulbs placed so strategically, never looked so wonderful.
“Hey, Wandering Stargazer?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you looking at the sky?”
“Because.”
“Oh, because what, Wandering Stargazer?”
“Because I can see.”
“The stars?”
“Yeah. I also see nothing, but I know there’s something.”
His eyes draw in the richness of the galaxy. The closeness of another reality.
“Hey, Wandering Stargazer?”
“What is it?”
“Have you ever left your home?”
“No. I haven’t. I’ve visited places but never stayed for too long.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Life gets in the way.”
Flickers of lights, tap in morse code to one another. Where is the moon tonight? Is the old man sleeping?
“Hey, Wandering Stargazer?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Why do you breathe?”
“That’s a stupid question. I breathe out of my lungs to live.”
“Okay, so, Wandering Stargazer. If living means that you are alive, why would life get in the way if it wants you to live?”
“…it’s complicated.”
“I don’t know, Wandering Stargazer. I just don’t know.”
The wind seems so surreal, Florida humidity draws much focus. His feet are planted on freshly watered grass. His head is above it all, even towering the tallest of skyscrapers.
“Hey, Wandering Stargazer?”
“Yes, yes, what is it now?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m standing.”
“Why?”
“Because, it’s all a person can do.”
“…hey, Wandering Stargazer?”
“Yeah..”
“Would you like to truly wander and see wonders?”
“…”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t be afraid, Wonderful Adventurer. A new journey is only another chapter in your story.”
Spectrums, deserts, cities, villages, animals, fantasy, continents, planets. He sees them all, life didn’t keep them from him. He kept them distant, all on his own, until The Almighty sent him a message. He is invigorated by the infinite possibilities of life, the treasures that will be shown.
LA’s streets flourished on Thursday night. Cars parked in red zones and meters buzzed for their maids to handle business. Jessie escorted his gorgeous colleague, Rachel inside a popular establishment. Vault’s Nightlife Club, entranced them with exotic displays of lighting and heavy bass.
“Whoa, can someone turn the lights down!?” Jessie asked one of the passing waitresses.
“Oh! Why yes we can Mr. Anderson. I’m so sorry. We forgo- “
“It doesn’t matter, just do it.” He replied.
The lights lost their rainbow coloring and went into a less distracting tone. Jessie’s oxfords clacked on the marbled floor as he walked to his special table.
“This is what you’ve been exited for? A table?” Rachel asked while he pulled her chair out for her to sit down.
“Well, yeah. I’ve deserved these seats for years. Nobody works as hard as we do.”
The club’s music drew in more people. Everyone waved at familiar faces and fingers pointed at Jessie and Rachel’s table.
Jessie waved a waitress over, “Can we get a few drinks please and thank you.”
“What would you like sir?” the waitress asked
“You can give Rachel two Manhattans and I’ll take a Martinez.”
Rachel’s eyes widened, “You’re driving?”
“You deserve to get a little loose. You’ve done some amazing things for me and the agency.” Jessie shoed the waitress off with their order. His eyes fell onto two foreign women on the dance floor.
“I’m going to look for some potential clients while we wait for our drinks” he softly declared.
“No, you don’t. Leave those girls to their dreams. Keep business, strictly business Jessie” Rachel cut both eyes at him like shards.
A light chuckle caused him to remove his wool suit jacket and lay it on his chair.
“I don’t remember you being so jealous back at FIT. I guess your boy is every woman’s dream.”
The waitress arrived with their drinks.
“Thanks, you can go now.” Jessie ordered the club’s employee.
The waitress’s eyes stared at him with aggravation.
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel interrupted. “Can you please leave us for a moment. You see, he hasn’t gotten any sleep and you know how cranky we women can get with no sleep.”
“No problem. Let me know if “YOU” need anything.”
Rachel reached over and clenched Jessie’s hand before he said anything rash. After, the waitress walked away Jessie’s mood became sour.
“Who the heck does she think she is anyway? An ugly girl like her should be happy to be in my presence.” His cufflinks began to scratch the table with his continuous fidgeting. He took his hand and brushed his hair to one side, a strand was out of place. He looked at Rachel and noticed that her dress kept coming up to her butt.
“Those dresses only press the stereotype that models can’t keep their clothes on”.
She shot him another crude gaze.
“Its not my fault midis don’t give room for my thick thighs to move. If you had hips you would understand.”
Jessie took a sip of his drink, “What I don’t understand is how you could let her talk to me like that and not say anything, Rach”.
The guests within the club overheard Jessie’s voice. One of the bouncers prepared to walk to the table but a man wearing a nicely fitted suit gave him a gesture to leave him be.
“What do you mean, let her talk to you like that? You were the one being a prick” Rachel replied. She tugged on her dress, trying to keep it from rubbing against her olive thighs. A few swings of her first drink gave her a little “confidence” to not care entirely about it.
Jessie drew closer to the circular table. “What you aren’t getting is that I don’t think you appreciate everything that I do for you. I’m the one who got you the interview with complex! I’m the one who spent time getting you the headshots for Vanity! I’m the one who got you the deal with Victoria’s Secret’s executives to put you on the cover of next month’s issue!”
Rachel’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. She brushed brunet bangs from out of her face as she fixed herself while sitting.
“What is wrong with you? You’ve changed over the past months. The women you’ve been sleeping with have screwed your brain cells out of your head. You were never this shallow or inconsiderate of my feelings, Jessie. And here you are, taking credit for someone else’s hard work.”
Jessie titled his head and asked, “What?”, while admiring her forever reaching hair that seemed to go on for days on end.
“Everything we have is because of Rachel Delilah Flowers, Professional Runway & Centerfold Model. I put my body and life on the line for everyone at the agency, especially you. We’ve been together since we were five years old, Jessie. Five years old, Jessie!! Doesn’t that hold any purpose?”
Jessie felt the eyes of everyone in Vault on them. He began to lose comfort on his throne.
He urgently removed himself from his chair and grabbed his jacket, throwing it across his right shoulder.
Rachel’s tears caused her light makeup to run. “You aren’t going to say anything? Anything at all?”
Jessie couldn’t hold in his anger any longer. “What do you want me to say!? I need you? Well I don’t! I can find another client anywhere in Beverly Hills, Baldwin Hills, Oceanside, or even South Central. I run this!” Jessie’s hands flared up as he finished his speech. Behind him, delivering glasses of drinks with fire dancing above them, was the waitress he treated unfairly. She received an order of 2 Blue Blazer Cocktails. Jessie mistakenly knocked one on Rachel’s dress.
“AAAAHHH!!” Rachel’s screams were heard throughout the club.
Jessie quickly sprung to her aid. Beating the mild flame into submission.
“I’m so sorry Rachel. I’m so sorry.”
