Donovan had an entire wing in the house dedicated to her, which had her own gym, theatre and guest bedroom. It was in any one of those rooms that Violet knew she’d find Donovan. Violet wandered the halls, always surprised by the sound of her footsteps echoing throughout the house. The guest house Violet was renting from the family was tiny in comparison with the mansion and Violet had done her best to fill the entire house with plants and knicknacks so that it didn’t appear sparse.
The Hamiltons, on the other hand, had gone for a more minimalistic aesthetic. It made the entire mansion feel as though it had no life in it. It was a far cry from what Violet had grown up with, which had been parents who collected everything from Smurf figurines to coins. Her mother had always been careful not to clutter anything, but there had always been so much personality in every corner. The Hamilton residence was just different and felt a little too bare for Violet to ever feel completely comfortable when she was over.
“Hey! Donovan?” Violet called out, peering into the first room on the right, which was Donovan’s home gym. “Where are you?”
“I’m in my studio.”
Right. Violet always forgot about the studio. It had originally been Mrs. Hamilton’s sewing room but, since she never actually made anything, they’d since converted it into a studio that Donovan could use for photoshoots and editing pictures.
Violet meandered down the hall, passing the stairs that led to the downstairs home theatres and Donovan’s bedroom. She double checked the bottom of her feet before stepping into the studio, since Donovan usually had things scattered along the floor. The last thing Violet would want to do was ruin a brand name dress or a new background that Donovan had invested in. Luckily, despite being barefoot when she’d crossed the lawn, her feet were free of any residue.
Violet poked her head in and smiled, seeing Donovan in front of a baby blue background with professional lighting all around her. “You switched the green screen out?”
Violet was shocked to see clouds painted on the top of Donovan’s cheeks the moment she turned around. A lot of work had gone into her makeup and Donovan had applied it meticulously enough that it looked like art, but it was the last thing Violet had expected on her friend’s face.
“Weird look, right?” Donovan asked her as Violet stepped into the room. “I can tell by your expression.”
“Wasn’t exactly expecting you to be trying to replicate the sky on your face. So, yeah, a little weird. It looks really nice, though.”
“It’s the hottest thing on Instagram right now. All these girls are creating these surreal makeup looks, so I thought I’d do the sky. Is it too much?”
Violet stepped back and stared at her friend's face, wanting to give her an honest opinion. The last thing she’d want is for people to leave Donovan rude comments for changing up her look. “Actually, it looks really nice. Especially against your new background.”
“Not going to lie,” Donovan said, moving her face to the side as she took another picture with the clicker in her hand and the Canon camera attached to a tripod across from her. “It took me like two hours to do.”
Violet took a seat on a bean bag chair in the corner. “Looks like it.”
“So, why are you visiting?” Donovan asked, before posing again with her licks puckered. “Figured it would take something to get you over here. Don’t you have that commission finishing up soon?”
Violet rolled her eyes and let herself fall back against the chair, as though the weight of her neighbor being a douche was pushing down her chest. “I can’t get any work done with all that noise happening next door. You can’t hear it from here, but it’s so loud when you’re in my place. It’s also hard to focus with all those models running around and yelling.”
“Don’t hate on the models.”
“I’m not,” Violet said, and let out a deep breath. “But their perfect bodies are distracting.”
“You could always just invite yourself over and enjoy the afternoon with them. I’ve told my parents to get a pool forever and they never listened. Imagine how much fun we would have.”
“Let me correct you there,” Violet stated, and looked right at Donovan. “You would have fun over there. I wouldn’t survive.”
Donovan stopped posing for a moment. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“It’s not that, really. I’m just way more shy than you. I can’t just walk into someone's house like I own the place. Not like you’re able to.”
“You just need more confidence, that’s all.”
Violet raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s the issue.”
“Well, I think it is. You just need to own yourself more,” she said, and smiled at her words. “I should write that as a caption. Own yourself, and you’ll own the world. It’s good, right?”
Violet laughed lightly. “It is, actually. You should definitely use it.”
“It’s also true to you, girl. You really need to loosen up a bit. I know that you’re not being serious all the time because you hate the world. You’re just too hard on yourself and it ends up making it hard for everyone else.”
“Does it really ruin everything?”
Donovan was speaking some truths, as she always had during their friendship. So many people never understood why they talked to each other. It was because they never allowed each other to get away with bullshit. Their honesty towards each other was what brought the girls together, especially when Violet had first visited the Malibu area to go to school.
“No, not for me, at least. For other people it might,” Donovan said, pursing her lips for another photo. “I think you just need to let yourself relax more. Like, with our shit neighbor. If he keeps up the parties you can just work in my parents house. There’s probably a guest room you could use to meet your deadline.”
She was right. Violet was being too ridiculous about the situation.
“I also didn’t tell you. He looked just like the guy I met in Greece.”
“Wait. You didn’t tell me this,” Donovan said, and dropped the clicker. “You went to his house?”
“Yeah. The party was so loud, and it was eight oclock.”
“You know people party way later than that?”
“Obviously.”
Donovan shook her head and held her hand up in the air. “Nevermind that. He looked like the guy from Greece? You mean the one we met in the club in Mykonos? That guy was gorgeous.”
“And the guy next door to your parents is the spitting image of him. And he saw me in jogging pants.”
Donovan chuckled. “You went over without even fixing how you looked?”
“I was in the middle of work.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter if it looks like him. Chances are, it isn’t,” Donovan said, and walked back to her clicker. “Just let it go, Violet. Work here if you have to. Try and wait to see if one of his parties goes on too late, then call the police. That’s all you can do.”
As usual, Donovan was the voice of reason. She always helped Violet get over her constant, intrusive thoughts.
“Okay. Fine. But he better not take one of those parties too late, or I will get him.”