. land where i land

[camille de vries]

Cool water rushes over lithe hands, slick porcelain transferring from the sink to the dishwasher as Camille tuned in to the laughter behind her. It had been a beautiful blur of a night, full of food deemed traditional and several bottles of rioja deemed necessary. Makeshift traditions melting into different cultures, all coming together around a table that she'd since put herself in charge of cleaning. Anything to continue to brighten Taylor's holiday, though the subdued smile he'd carried on his face since her and her sister's arrival had her thinking his heart had been warmed to his visitors. “More, anyone?” She offers when she completes the task at hand, plucking one of the open bottles off the counter as glasses were held aloft. Careful of the white cushions everyone had gravitated toward Camille gently topped them off, stealing the last sip herself before depositing it in the recycling. Only when the place seemed clean enough for Taylor's standards did she join the fray, bidding Isaac a kiss goodbye on the cheek as he saw himself out and she assumed his spot on the couch. Smirking as Lena quickly shifted to the floor in front of her, knowing exactly what her sister would want as her empty hand soothed scratches through her hair. They exist in the quiet like this for a minute, content and full of good food and good company, something she seems to see reflected in Taylor's gaze when she finally finds it across the room. “You were not kidding,” Camille asserts, taking another lengthy sip of warm wine. “I feel like I will be full for a week.”

[taylor maitson]

It was the busiest the place had been since he moved in, which wasn't too difficult given he had only had a maximum of two guests at any one time previously. Noise carried into the rafters, music (a hotly contested medley of different people connecting to their individual Spotify accounts, forcing their preferences onto the others, all pretending to hate it), overlapping conversations and the clatter of cutlery against plates. Taylor had thought he would hate having so many people in his inner sanctum but he found he was grateful for it, the noise and the merriment chasing away the shadows that would have otherwise loomed large over his most hated time of year.  He finds himself tuned out of a deep conversation between Lena and Zac, a situation that allows him space to watch Camille as she deftly moves around his kitchen. He'd tried to convince her to leave the dishes for him but she had insisted, a gracious host though she was not really a host at all. Before long she's returned to them and Zac's gone, not a minute too soon for Taylor though he had to admit his friend had been on better form than expected. "Told you so," he says to Cami as she catches his eye, laughing. Their lips are all stained a similar ruby from the wine, a comfortable exhaustion cloaking itself around them. "Thanks for this. Both of you. I've had a really good time and it's all thanks to you, Zac and I would have had a huge argument if you weren't here to distract him."

[camille de vries]

The evening had been a beautiful culmination of a distracting few days, Camille still remembering the sharp chill of the pool they'd jumped into mere moments after entering his place. A christening of sorts, she had mused, Lena twisting out the deep fabric of her dress in giddy amusement. She'd entertained her sister in Los Angeles before but never in a way that provided a homey comfort, Lena taking to the lifestyle like the water they'd been submerged in. Up early for hikes, browsing the aisles at Erewhon with full concentration even if the conversions sometimes confused her...it was sweet naivety, something Cami preferred to keep her sister spoiled in as the sun had come down on their evening. The pair echoing smiles from their perches, Lena's mouth lazy and loose as it curls into a smirk. "Tendría una flameante luchar con él cualquier día," she teases, Camille pausing her soothing ministrations to rap her flirtatious sister on the head. “Now now, no need to play with any more fire,” she warns, ever aware of her sisters beautiful yet precocious nature. Cami's eyes flick back to Taylor on a roll, hands returning to their soothing as quickly as they'd deviated. “She is just being trouble. Family is family, fighting or loving or somewhere in between.” Ever aware of the ebbs and flows of the band over the years she was surprised to find Isaac more open than usual tonight; whether it had been the wine or just the mood she wasn't sure, daring questions that dug harder the deeper they'd stained themselves red. She can all but feel it coating her tongue now, her teeth, warm and content as rich eyes focused in his direction. “Surely it all could have waited one day anyway. Though you are both very intense when it comes to love. Maybe that is why you are musicians.”

[taylor maitson]

Taylor watches the sisters from his spot sprawled across an armchair, long legs draped over one side. Briefly his mind wandered to his own sister and he felt a pang of guilt for leaving her and the kids behind, though he also realises this is the first time he's thought of her this holiday— a record for sure. That life seemed a million miles behind him now, watching two beautiful sisters sit on his couch in his beautiful apartment, his life blessed beyond anything he had ever dared to dream of. Hell, as a kid his only aspiration had been not to live in a trailer, so yeah, he had plenty to be thankful for. Maybe he'd come to see the value in this holiday from now on. "Don't apologize, I like hearing you guys speak Spanish. Though it's so fast I have no idea how you even understand each other." He laughs lightly at her analysis of his dynamic with Zac, shrugging. "Or he's just a pretentious asshole." He sips on his wine, enjoying the buzz he allowed himself a lot less of these days. "Come on then, what's your verdict on Thanksgiving? Are you guys in for next year?"

[camille de vries]

Rarely did Camille find herself content in slow silence, reveling in the elusive feeling as Lena tipped further into her methodical touch. She was often carried by big crowds and brighter lights, highs to chase, connections to make…but the intimacy of this evening had warmed her from the inside out, watching her sister’s eyes slip closed in peace. “I can predict what she will say most of the time, that helps,” Cami says lightly, catching a dark eye slide open in mock menace. “Otherwise Spanish has stricter rules - it is quick because it has a method to it a little…or a lot more than English.” And even more than any language when it came to Love, Camille smirking into her glass at his jab. “Another good reason to be a musician.” Her thoughts drift to Benicio then, a flurry of emotions quick to follow that she is much too drowsy to parse through. Settled in the here and now, feeling her sister’s breathing even out against the back of her hand. “I am afraid you’ve put her in a food coma,” Cami points out, gently moving out from underneath her now sleeping sister’s reach and unfurling her legs back down to the floor. Wine glass rising above her head as she stands and stretches, splashing more burgundy into its body before she motioned to the deck outside. His curtains billow in the evening winds, Camille settling on a lounger as she stared up at the moonlight. “I like that the company made you happy. And that it was a holiday of togetherness and care in what you put on the table so yes, I could do this again.” Her eyes drift dreamily back down, tracing the silvery shadows cast over his frame. “You dodged the question at dinner though, what you are grateful for. So I think you should answer it now.”

[taylor maitson]

It was comforting to watch a healthy family dynamic. Taylor felt no bitterness towards the happiness of others, especially those he loved, being someone who saw little benefit in comparing his lot to anyone else's. If anything it sparked a curiosity, and he had spent much of the meal noticing the shared mannerisms of the sisters, the way they emphasised the same words or shared similar facial expressions, though they didn't look hugely alike. "You'll have to teach me sometime," he says, a suggestion that had been made many times over the course of their friendship, though endlessly busy agendas made those Spanish lessons seem like a pipe dream.   Taylor gets up and finds a blanket while Cami refreshes the glasses, draping it over Lena's sleeping form and tiptoeing out onto the deck. Music drifts out the open doors and the pool glows blue, the lights of Los Angeles low below them. "I'd kill for a cigarette right now," he complains, sitting on the lounger beside hers, craving a habit he'd managed to kick years ago. Her prompt elicits a groan, though he's pleased by the idea of this potentially becoming a recurring event. "Well, I'm thankful for you, obviously." That one was easy. His mind runs through everything else, his wealth, his friends, his family, even. Kendra. Those last two he buries. "I'm grateful that today's been a good day, and that tomorrow always comes."

[camille de vries]

Grounded. It is what she would call this place, this feeling, Los Angeles spread vast and unending below them. On top of the world and yet completely enveloped in silence save for sharp winds or the stray note floating from the living room, a stasis of peace and suspension of time. Camille sheepishly fishes into her back pocket at his request, palming the pack she'd been harboring all evening. “I will not tell,” she says simply, half because she means it and half because she cannot deny herself of the indulgence. A quick light sends smoke spiraling into that quiet air, dissipating in the wake of his warm-toned honesty. Camille flicks a few ashes away, repositioning her body to face him completely. Watching over his shoulder as Lena rejoined the living for a moment, gathering enough conscious to tuck fully into the couch. It assuaged some worry Cami wasn't aware she'd been holding, shoulders loose down her back as she dared another drag. “Very present of you,” she remarks, wondering if that was how he chose to live. In the here and now, looking forward and ahead. The past a patchwork of pained memories and escapism she'd gleaned from long nights together, talking until their throats ran dry. Until Kendra came along. Cami shifted her knees under her chin, pondering how to broach something so complex and forbidden. “Do you like to surround yourself with people that make you fight?”

[taylor maitson]

The surprise revelation of cigarettes has Taylor clutching a hand to his heart, laughing incredulously. "Are you even real?" he asks, the girl genie-like, granting his every wish as soon as it was uttered. He shakes one out into his palm, already salivating at the scent of the one she's just lit. With a deep inhale he thinks he might be the most content he's ever been. He slips the lighter into the box and leaves it on the small table between them, one that had been piled high with towels after their pool adventures earlier that day. These two have disappeared, no doubt spirited away by his fairy god mother. She's looking at him with intent, something he had become used to in their many years of intimate friendship. It had taken longer for him to be able to return the directness of the look but he does so now, watching as smoke curls into the night sky. It's one of those questions that take a moment, perfectly articulated English put into a sequence that wasn't immediately understood. His first thought is Zac but that conversation felt complete, which could only mean she was pushing into more uncharted territory. He feels a twinge of protectiveness of Kendra, despite everything, despite his unconditional love and trust of Camille. "I grew up around constant conflict," he concedes, taking another deep drag, "so maybe unconsciously I do."  He glances away for a moment, though he looks back at her to ask a question in return. "Does he deserve you?"

[camille de vries]

In the beginning she had viewed smoking as some sterotypical model vice. A way to stave off hunger, a way to remain thin and grungy like the books often wanted when she was coming up. But in time she found it to be where the friendships were made. Where other girls and artists and designers took up space in a back alley between shows, trading gossip and shoot requests, bemoaning a set snafu or flashing envy in deep eyes as ends burned. A crutch and also a strange haven, Camille delighted he chose to partake even if she was vaguely aware of his latest aversion. If anything they provided one another safety, a temporary salve for fronts and exhaustion and hollow smiles. It's why she knows he'll understand what she means eventually. Pick through the hesitancy to strike right at the core, answer as brief but clear to the mind that nods to his answer. Watching his conscious flash on his face for a brief moment, saying more than the words that lingered in the air. “And yet here I am,” she reminds, as if she is not the quick match strike of the latest flames that burned. For Kendra, for Benicio, features turned pensive as she regarded his question seriously. “He could, maybe, yes. I find I can tell him nothing and everything and they both seem very important. Our values are similar, I like that we both like to see the world. But nothing is perfect, you know?” What he tried to assert over her when it came to shoots and what Kendra mentioned to him still struck her wrong, something she'd yet to fully move past. Maybe the undercurrent of what had driven her here, heels dug in about a friend who had done nothing but be good to her. “I do not blame her you know,” Camille says suddenly, dispelling the danger of a deeper confession as her gaze held. Head tilted to the size, perched on the cliff of her knees, she lets a small smile show through. “You are a catch. I would not want to find you in someone else's net if I was your fisherman.”

[taylor maitson]

For all the years they had known each other and been intimately (if platonically) acquainted, there was still an air of mystery to Camille born of a childhood on another continent. Where he could meet a Cali girl and know instantly if she'd grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth, or a surfboard strapped to her back, or stranded in a trailer just like he had been, he was not well acquainted enough with her culture to be able to tell anything about her that she didn't explicitly describe. Had she been privileged? Had she had it rough? Was she just a normal girl? Well, that last one was easy enough to answer, there was nothing about her that made her a normal girl.  It's what prompted him to ask the question, one he meant genuinely, having no judgment on the matter himself. Her answer makes him smile. "I like that, that's good," he says, appreciating the idea of someone treating everything with importance. So unlike most people in this city, this generation, even, preoccupied with performing apathy at all times. Because everything does matter. This night, that wine, this cigarette, that meal, it all mattered so fucking much. He looks from the water to her as she asserts Kendra's blamelessness, eyebrow tilted as he waits for the explanation that then makes him laugh, warmth spreading through his chest. He loved the way she talked. "You view me through rose tinted glasses. I haven't always been good to her. Haven't even often been good to her, if we're being honest."

[camille de vries]

Childhood had been simple but brief, for her. Surrounded by cousins and family meals, trips on trains, olive pitted in bowls and hands dipped in oil. There, then gone, the heat still present on her neck when she felt someone staring. Paired down for a city celebration, limbs newly lithe, Camille been scouted and whisked away with very little chance to recapture her youth. Just collect life lessons, navigate foreign cities, the innocence of herself still so visible that it was likely what Taylor had caught on to. Something that had remained with her for years, putting value in the simplicity of life and its feelings. How she felt, what purpose drove her work. The sweet singe of a cigarette on her fingertips, smoke unfurling from her mouth into these LA skies. It's why she'd instilled so much trust into this friendship, and why his relationship with Kendra had often confused her. With him she'd never felt anything other than safe and respected but he had a fair point. She held glimpses, hours; Kendra had years, unyielding time. “Why do you think that is?” Cami finally asks, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders. “Because she invites that kind of energy? You are capable of treating people kindly,” she flicks her free hand between them as proof. “I guess I do not understand why the same energy is not extended. Unless it is unwanted at the start.”

[taylor maitson]

Taylor shifts his weight to get more comfortable, able to tell that Cami was settling in for one of her probing conversations. With anyone else he would have his defences up but not her, though Kendra was a subject that might finally provoke some defensiveness in him. "You're very different people," and god, weren't they. "Ken and I are a match and kerosene, we go together, even if it's destructively." He's still irritated at her, her overstepping with Camille driving a rift between them that he could not easily overcome. As intertwined as he and his ex still were, Camille was his best friend, and as juvenile as that title was it was something he took seriously. Another drag, another exhale. She had a way of making him think about things more deeply and that's what he does now, mulling over why their treatment would be so different. "I think it's less that I treat her differently to how I treat you and more that I treat you differently to how I treat pretty much everyone else."

[camille de vries]

Cami was aware she was likely walking a tightrope but chose to continue anyway, metaphorical hands thrown out for balance. “You want to hear something philosophical?” She muses, flipping the cigarette back and forth between her fingers. “I take that Lion King song very seriously. The Circle of Life? You light a match and it burns, yes. But the ashes help the soil and suddenly something else grows. So there is a benefit to be found somewhere.” What benefit that is exactly she can't completely articulate, though the direction of her answer is tipped in her direction as he continues. Brows drawing together in contemplation, an exception that was cherished but not some everlasting love as everyone expected. “Does it surprise you then, that this is where we are? Not something more?”

[taylor maitson]

"Always," and it was true. The Philosopher of the band, no matter how much Zac fancied himself as being deep and introspective. "Tomato plants like ash," he agrees, watching as the tip of her cigarette glowed orange in the semi-darkness. They are far enough into the hills to be away from the traffic noise, a light breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees that are enclosed around them, music still drifting out of the open French doors. This patio had seen more action today than it had since he'd taken ownership, usually somewhere he'd have an espresso or the odd spot of yoga. Now it was the setting for a conversation he hadn't thought he'd be having tonight, though it doesn't bother him in the slightest. "Do you mean that we don't fuck? Or that we don't date? Or some secret third thing I haven't considered?" He stubs out the cigarette, easily reaching down to the concrete below. "No, it doesn't surprise me. Does it surprise you?"

[camille de vries]

It brings a smile to her lips that he considers her musing so authentically, response solidifying her belief even as she laughed. No matter how lofty or silly or misspoken he had never discounted her words. And rarely shied away from questions, even ones as potentially dangerous as she'd tossed out there, giving it the space to consider as she looked across his pool. Almost expecting to find a range of vines and churned earth in baskets, rows of plants in the yard. “You could start a garden out here,” she voices in real time, unable to hide the quiet shock on her face as she refocused her attention. “Any of the above! Really?” She drops her legs back to the deck, narrowly avoiding the cigarette he drags against the ground. She has one more drag and takes it quickly, following suite before sitting right back up. “It would have surprised younger me, yes. I had the biggest crush on you after we met.” Naive and young, struck senseless but his intense blue eyes and the care he'd always held for her. Now she likely knew it more to be starstruck by a white knight, whisking her to safety. “But maybe you are right. Maybe the universe knew what we both needed at that time and gave us a friend instead.”