// can't read my poker face

[stella fiona garland]

Color streaked the canvas before her, bright blues and greens shining back at her under the heavy lighting in Vidette's kitchen. A paintbrush jutted out from between her lips, her teeth making grooves in the pattern of the wooden handle. Something wasn't right about this one, something wasn't flowing. Perhaps it was the cool shades of green in comparison to the brilliant blues, or even the soft pinks against the bright oranges. It could have even been the way Vidette's new Shetland Sheepdog, Talan, was curled up on top of her feet, his long fur tickling the spaces between her toes. That really didn't have much to do with anything, and Stella couldn't honestly blame her horrendous attempt at painting on the poor puppy. If anything, the puppy could only be blamed for stinting her muse hours ago when he was running around the house like mad, sinking his teeth into anything he could find - slippers, gloves, couch cushions, pillows, shoes, blankets, everything. But now he was sleeping, silent as could be with only the occasional snore or deep breath passing through his big ol' doggy mouth. In all honesty, the only thing that could be blamed for her absolute lack of muse was the great gap of time that had passed since the last time Stella had picked up a paint brush and sat before a canvas - four years. People always wondered why Stella had stopped; "You're so talented! Don't give up!". And she would always brush them off and inform them that it was just simply because she had lost all passion for the craft; art was no longer her main focus, but rather she was going to work alongside Vidette in her little bakery, while simultaneously writing a silly fiction novel that didn't really have much of a point to it and would probably never be published.

With a sigh, Stella reached behind her and pressed the Play button on Vidette's iHome. She'll admit, when she first saw that her sister was keeping one of those in her kitchen, it was an onslaught of teasing and jests, not understanding why the girl needed it. She came to realize it had a lot to do with the fact that the majority of Vidette's time was spent in her kitchen, cooking up new recipes and playing around with older ones, and the music helped soothe her and stinted her from over-thinking things. Which was precisely what Stella needed in that moment; her mind was reeling with shapes and lines and colors and what she could do to make this painting work. All she wanted was for this painting to work. The upbeat tempo of Lady Gaga drifted toward her from the speakers, her bare toes involuntarily wiggling at the sound. She touched the tip of the brush to the canvas once again, streaking a pink line across the upper half of the page, blending it against the purples and oranges that were already there. More colors, more streaks, more Gaga. Stella hummed along to the tune of Bad Romance, Telephone, Love Game and a few others, relishing in the fact that her sister had made a Gaga mix-tape that morning, as if she knew that the outlandish star would instill muse in Stella. Truthfully, she wasn't the biggest Gaga fan in the world, but the woman was undeniably talented and her beats were hypnotic and catchy, and somehow she restored the girls' ability to paint, because suddenly the colors were all blending together and looking more like an actual picture than colors on a canvas.

A new song started, and a smile appeared on the twenty two year old's face - Poker Face. "I wanna roll with him, a hot pair we will be," she began, singing softly under her breath as she dipped her brush in the blue paint once again. Her lips moved with each of the words, forming them with ease, and her small body swayed to the rhythm without a care in the world. Stella didn't have the best voice in the world, but she was proud to say she was better than both of her sisters combined. Either way, the Garlands were not musical geniuses - at least not as far as vocals were concerned. Before she could really stop herself or even realize what she was doing, Stella was out of her chair and grabbing a fresh, unpeeled carrot off of Vidette's countertop, using it as a makeshift microphone as the chorus came around. "Can't read my, can't read my, no he can't read my poker face!" Her painting was long forgotten as she strut about the kitchen, paint streaked across her favorite plaid pajama shorts. She danced around the room, circling the dining table and singing her little heart out to the carrot as if her life depended on it. Her hips swayed from side to side, but rather than looking graceful and lovely, she just looked silly, and her hair whipped around her as she spun in circles with her free arm thrown above her head whimsically. The sound of Vidette's front door opening didn't phase her as she twirled and spun and danced around like a lunatic, having the time of her life. It only registered that someone else was in the house when movement caught her eye, and Stella spun around to see an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway to the kitchen, causing her to leap for the Power button on the iHome. Silence fell over the two of them, Stella breathing heavily out of exhaustion and embarrassment. "Um, hi?" She finally mustered, running her fingers through her messy hair. There was dry paint near her roots and some by her tips, and she could easily guess that there was some on her face, as well. A pink tint crept up into her cheeks as she stood there foolishly in her pajamas, blinking at her company. She was about to mention that Vidette wasn't home when a furry creature came darting out from his hiding spot, charging toward the guest at full speed. "Talan, no!" Some guard dog he was. Stella moved forward, grabbing the dog by his collar and stopping him from charging the man, leaning over him to ruffle his fur once he had calmed down enough. "Sorry about him. My sister just picked him up from the pound with a friend, and he gets way too excited upon meeting new people."

TAGGED: SOMA/TALAN