Fever

I'm smoking more than ever, and one day my death report will say nicotine poisoning, or lung cancer, or whatever.Alfred called me three times during this period, I didn't answer once, and the time passed quickly, and it was already the end of April.I got an invitation from Milan to go to Fashion Week in September, although this is not the first time, but the last time I collaborated with Givenchy, this time it was in my own name; I was a little tired, this feeling of burnout From time to time, it hit my brain nerves, and I often yawned at the paper in my hand, which aggravated my craving for cigarettes.

In the last few days of April, Alfred texted me again, but by the time I noticed it was the next morning.I was in a bad mood, and the message from Al said that according to the plan, he was now leaving for Northern Europe.I think he wants me to give him a call, even if it is a few words, I hesitated for a while, judging that it seems that he has already set off, and finally gave up this stupid idea.

He is no longer in London.I lay flat on my back, and then threw the phone under the pillow.It's time for him to leave here, I thought irritably, it's best not to come back, he makes me feel so bored that I don't know what to do.The information I send over is always met with a block, he either ignores it or takes it out of context, and it annoys me.I simply got up and walked to the hall with my messy blond hair. Alyssa came early, and she was sitting at the table drinking orange juice, while Isa opened the refrigerator door, as if planning to make breakfast.

"Oh, there are fried eggs and bacon for breakfast—" She turned her head and noticed me suddenly, I guess it was because she was surprised by the look of embarrassment and the thick dark circles under her eyes, she paused, and then said to me, "Need cereal*?"

"I want toast," I said, ignoring her sarcasm, pulling back my chair and seeing toast already standing upright on the bread rack, which brightened my mood. "It's not soggy, it's great."

"In a good mood?" Alisa blinked and looked at me. I didn't answer, but Isa said, "No, it means he's in a bad mood."

Alyssa was quite puzzled, I didn't explain much, I just turned over the new issue of vogue while sipping my breakfast tea.The cover model is SashaP, she looks so cute, I can't help but put down my teacup and turn the page inside, "Wow...I love her (Ilikeher)."

"You will love Natasha even more." Isa put the lemon and milk on the table, "The little rabbit is of Slavic descent just like her, and it is easy to overlap aesthetically."

"Her photo will be on Essentials, I believe in that amazingness." I picked up the teacup again, and flipped through the photo. Sasha is indeed a beauty. Those overly pure eyes seem to be the best artwork. I really love her smooth jaw and messy hair. Isa said, "You are capable, I believe in you." Said After she winked at Alisa, the other party replied in a panic, "Yes, of course, I also believe it very much."

Her appearance was a little immature and funny, which made me shake my head dumbfounded. Vogue has always had a knack for popping models, and Larastone*'s previous cover photo received rave reviews, which intensified in the gloomy days.Alisa was dressed very satisfactorily. The floral headband and simple white coat, as well as the light pink high heels, made her as petite as a high school girl. I closed the magazine and said to her, "You are in college How many times did you participate in the design?"

"Almost every time," she replied, her voice fluctuating slightly, "I... like design very much, and my dream is to dress every girl in the most beautiful clothes."

The answer made me smile happily, "You never left Switzerland?"

"I was in America until I was 15, and I went back again in college," she said. "That's when I met Al." Still drinking tea, Isa stood by the frying pan, and the bacon made the sound of frying.

"He is very interesting and talented." I completed the following words for her, "and popular with girls," I stared at her calmly, she looked up at me with a slightly surprised expression, Isa Finally I couldn't help laughing, I looked back at her, "Is it funny?"

"It's so funny, I think you could go on a mystery date*," she said tartly. "Where's Al? He's been gone for a long time."

I shrunk my fingers and rubbed my nails inertially.After a pause of about a few seconds, I said very calmly, "He should set off for Northern Europe."

"Surprisingly—did he not look for you?" Isa put the plate in front of me and looked at me with those dark green eyes. I replied that there were several text messages and phone calls, but I didn't answer them all.It made Isa's eyes widen, and she almost hit me on the head, but she just yelled, "There's no cure!"

I glanced and remained silent.Isa kept staring at me, her expression completely expressed a kind of helplessness towards me, but she didn't speak again, instead Alisa said with some embarrassment, "This is not a serious matter..."

"Oh yeah, I wish so much that everything went on according to someone's thinking," Isa said in a sullen tone, "everything was smooth, and then just cut through the walls and yelled 'cause we don't want to change ’ — oh god, that’s great, really,” she said in one breath, and poured the milk into a glass, “You’re going to tell me, ‘Idon’t need no arms around me*’, yeah?”

I wondered why Isa was so angry, and the anger was real.I looked at her puzzled, hoping at least she would tell me why, but she just took a sip of milk and said, "You're being rude."

I didn't answer.Angry women are scary, not to mention I don't know why.But it reminds me of when I graduated from Harrow a long time ago, I proposed to my father that I would go to St Martins to study art, and indeed he was very willing to agree to me, but I remember him saying to me——

Don't hide your pain.

I got up and decided to stop eating, I walked towards the room again, I heard Alisa say something to Isha, it was too vague, the words just fell apart and rolled away from my ears, I turned the doorknob, walked The moment I entered, I felt chills. The drawn curtains only let in a very faint light. I sat on the chair and lit a lighter. The whole room was enveloped by a faint smell of smoke. Countless high walls were built with this gloomy blue color. . Frieke Janssens* once took a group of photos, SmokingKids, the appearance of those children intoxicated by tobacco is lingering.They seem to be saying that this novelty has given them a new experience, and it is a good toy.A girl squinted slightly, smoke rings hovering, her chestnut hair was curled on her shoulders, and her posture was extremely sophisticated.

I saw it for the first time in a trance. When I was smoking, I looked at myself through the glass window on the side of the street.Who caught you this time?

I smiled and shook my head vigorously.

But death.

St. Martin's graduation design show is a full-fledged, eye-catching stage.Wearing a white shirt and a Harrow hat, I sat quietly waiting for my show to start.In fact, I was very tired, but I still sat there with full energy. I knew it was related to my degree, and whether those high-society darlings sitting behind me would be interested in my design. So important that I've been wanting to smoke a cigarette to stabilize myself.

love me Please.I heard a voice shouting in my heart, love me, love me once* no matter what.And the moment the sound stopped abruptly, the lights were also turned off. I looked up and saw the scarlet and scarlet lights seemed to be splashed with blood. The model who stepped on the stage was wearing a torn skirt, and a large area of ​​lacquer red was dumped on the white. on the skirt.This is the thorns of silent November, entangled on the living flesh, the scar-like paint is smeared on their throats, abdomens, and the entangled cloth strips are like viscera and intestines protruding.I heard whispers behind me, all of them were amazed and puzzled.I lowered the brim of my hat and saw their fair calves pierced like nails in front of me.

"Rebellion against ethics!" "Tyrannical!" "What an executioner!"*

None of this is a problem that bothers me.I thought silently, everything is in ruins, this is the ideal in my heart, this is the park where everything is dead, I guard here, and the stage!This eerie, terrifying, merciless god!Threatening us with his fingers, saying—it's all art!

They are walking corpses. I quietly watched my design being baptized under the eyes of everyone. The show was always shrouded in a layer of bloody light, and their fair skin danced with fire.I closed my eyes and automatically turned their walking into a flowing oil painting.The whole show was wrapped in strong lights and almost suffocating air, and at the end, I finally stood on the stage, raised my hat that looked like Haro and said.

"I'm not a brutalist." I paused. "I love women more than anyone else. You gotta know you gotta love, don't frown*."

All the people stared at me like saluting a murderer.I wore a hat on my head, and I carried a silver lighter in my pocket, which was unusually heavy.

I felt like I fell asleep vaguely again, and when I woke up, I was suddenly a little cold.I found Alisa sitting opposite, holding a sketchbook and seemed to be drawing something.I moved my neck to wake myself up, she looked up, and then stopped the paintbrush in her hand.

"Isa asked you to come?" I sat up straight, my head was still a little dizzy, as if I had just dreamed.I sat by the window and fell asleep like this. The curtains were drawn tightly enough so that I didn't feel any chill.Alisa nodded, and I sighed silently, then asked, "What are you drawing?"

"...You." She said, and then handed me the sketchbook. I flipped through two pages. Her brushwork was extremely detailed, but she did not describe my hair trivially, but outlined the shadows in detail.I closed the book and said to her, "Where's Isha?"

"Studio," she replied, "are you awake?"

I knew she was asking if I was thinking clearly, so I took a deep breath and said, "I'm awake."

She gave me a gentle smile, so warm, that it occurred to me that I hadn't actually talked to her alone.Holding her sketchbook in silence, she asked, "Kirkland... why are you a designer?"

I replied without thinking, "Because I like it."

"Isn't there a deeper reason? For example, an ideal or something." She blinked her eyes, and there was a faint, glass-like luster in her light blue eyes.I suddenly felt that she was an angel, asking gently, are you going to heaven?

"I don't know," I said, "I just hate being labeled."

There will always be ignorant guys who like to label people indiscriminately.On St. Martin's graduation project, they call me hangman unceremoniously, I think it's kind of funny, no, or it's the funniest joke, and I understand it, but it doesn't affect me in any way .

Alisa sighed softly.She rolled her eyes, and the wave of light blue immediately reflected a sad and compassionate light.She picked up a pencil and wrote a line of light words on the paper.I recognized the signature, the author's, but she wrote another line.

This is Dark Wings.She raised her eyes and smiled at me again, and for a moment I really thought I saw an angel.

And my God, the more the angel loves, the more he wants to punish. He beats the person being taught with a giant fist, but the person who is beaten always answers: "I don't want to!"*

When I went downstairs, I saw Isa sitting on the steps, staring blankly into the distance.She hasn't done this in a long time, her back looks so skinny, I never realized she could be so womanly.I'd been ignoring her fragility all this time - and it suddenly made me a little uneasy.I walked over, walked down the steps step by step, and sat next to her.

"Are you awake?" She asked me with a teasing smile, and I answered her with a smile, "You've been blowing here all morning?"

"It's only been 10 minutes," she said. "You slept so well."

I smiled noncommittally, she raised her head and sighed softly, her arms were white and smooth, blurred under the light.She turned to look at me again and said, "I was a little impulsive just now."

Before I could answer, she added, "But actually, Arthur, I really think you've done something wrong," she said with a look of pity, "You know, you've always been like this, and I've been with you so much. For a long time, you have always been like this."

My heart sank, she crossed her arms and curled up, "It's not good, I never feel that I understand you, I even think it's a wish, of course it's your own temper, but you make me sad Extremely."

This made me look at her a little at a loss, and she smiled as if she knew what I should not say, "Oh no, don't be like this, this can't be resolved in a short while," she blinked, "do you understand?"

I just fell silent.And Isa just stood up and said, "I thought it was an opportunity, but maybe I was wrong—Okay! Tomorrow is McCartney's press conference, and Natalia will be there, isn't it?"

I looked up at her, her backlight-like shadow enveloped me.I think I should say thank you to her at this time, but the words are stuck in my throat and I can't say it smoothly, which makes me a little embarrassed.Isa just took a few steps up and said, "It's going to be nice weather, Arthur."