Ginny™

sagittarius | 22 | bi | passion for cooking | will sing most likely

[beckymorrisxn]

Starter for: @ginevrawestwood​ Where: Restricted Access

After going to Restricted Acces for the first time, Becky had returned several times, especially on the nights of the burlesque dancers. They had her attention, the way they moved, the way they were confident in what they were doing. It was something that she realised she wanted too. She wanted that confidence. But as Becky had returned that night, there had been no dancers but only a cabaret singer. A very good one and also one who was definitely close in her age. Which was the main reason why she had made her way over to the redhaired woman as she had a break in between performances. “Hi, I’m sorry for interrupting your break. I’m Becky, I just wanted to say how much I’ve liked your performance just now. Have you been performing long already?”

[ginevrawestwood]

Today was her night to work her ass-off and sing for the night. This is what she signed up for at the beginning, so there were no complaints made. It was just different that she was used to, and being here for three months, it still felt somehow odd. Odd in a way, that she knew, she could get busted anytime and then there would be a time to explain this. She is “working” here as a chef, while that is a half-truth or lie, how ever the person looks at that. This was a better paying job, and she was doing what she wanted, in a smaller scale. Maybe, when she is surer about this, she will tell her brother and parents about this – but for now, she keeps this as much of a secret as she can. That is why she doesn’t engage in conversations with strangers, just the bartender she already knows after those three months. She isn’t sharing many details about herself; she even doubts that people know she and James are related. Yet, no one greeted her and said: oh, you’re James’ little sister. So, she assumed she still has her own identity that is kept. Not that she didn’t want to tell – no one yet asked, that was the difference. Usually after her performances, she had breaks to not overwork her vocal cords and burn out in one night. She got the usual at the bar – a good cold iced tea with squeezed lemon. She was recommended not to drink any alcohol on the medicine she was using, so she was not drinking for months now. Nothing unusual and better for her health, for sure.

Her break was interrupted by a voice that came next to her and her gaze turned to a girl by her side. Not someone she knew or even, seen around very often. Some people stop by some come and go – every week or every day. Her, she wasn’t familiar with. But she listened to what she had to say before returning it to her. “No, it’s okay you’re not interrupting my break. Nice to meet you Becky, I’m Ginny.” She didn’t hesitate to reach out her hand to shake if she was willing to share her hand. “Thank you, I am glad to hear you enjoyed it. That means I am probably doing my job good.” Small laugh escaped her lips when she thanked for the compliment she was given, which she was very fond of and happy about. “Here or in general? Because here I work for three months, but with singing I started back in high school.” She offers her both answers to make sure she answered to what she asked. “Are you new here?” in reverse she asks something she was curious about. Like whom she was and if she is local or really just some stopping by. “I mean, in town. I don’t recall seeing you here before, but maybe I am wrong, please correct me.” she tells her and then waits, and while she does – again she sips a bit from her cup.

[ginevrawestwood]

with: @jamesromanwestwood

where: James’ house 

Getting better at her craft was never a wrong idea. Her mother would be very proud to know, that even after moving to her brother, she is always actively into cooking. She believes her work is being a chef, what means – she believes she is cooking almost 24/7. Thankfully this wasn’t the case, and she could enjoy these simple things like it is new every day. And it indeed felt new every day. Some of a habit it became to her to cook, for James mostly. This was one of the best ways of showing love and admiration to others, and he deserved nothing but the best food ever. She even bought a book when she went out to the town. New recipes, new ideas and new food. She was playing will all the spices, types of meat or even potato. Who knew you could make a potato in many different ways? She knew, all about it.

That is why she asked James to join her today, since he was home, and she was as well. She took this as a therapy of sort as well, and mostly bonding time. The main reason why she came here after all was him – and the time she could spend with him. Of course, she couldn’t ask him to be with her all the time, he had his job and eventually – his own life. So, moments like these mattered because these were the moments she came for after all. It midst of cooking and chopping up an onion, sometimes she looked his way, just to make sure he stayed and he is there. To see him, comforted her and gave her a bigger push towards problem solving. Thing she knew – if she just asked him, it would be faster. This thought was in her head, repeating on and on. The help was just a hand reach away. By just looking at him now, she knew she didn’t want to disturb him, anyway and anyhow. That is why she was quiet and turned her gaze back to the onion on the chopping board. Slowly she chopped the last pieces of the onion, before pushing the board aside. “By the way, you can be proud of me. I went out to town all by myself and interacted with various people, other than you.” She told him, with a small pride in her voice. He was the one always pushing her outside, and she was the one always saying tomorrow. Until she went and got the new cooking book for example.

[ginevrawestwood]

𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃.

[ginevrawestwood]

Date: 01/07/2022

It took me some time to sit down and write something here. I took a lot of time, looking back at the last entry date. I haven’t found anything special to say. Oh yeah, the doctor thing – there wasn’t really a way around it. I told her into the phone, that for a bit, I move states. Wasn’t very happy and was very concerned about my well-being. I had to promise my doctor, that I’d go to the local hospital, let them know of my condition, if there was a case of emergency. So yeah, now I know where the hospital is. I let them know about myself. That is where the line is. The doctor there has been asking me as well: have you considered surgery? And again, I had to explain that – yes I did, but right now I don’t have the finance for that. But it is in the process.

Maybe I should take up another job, to cover this more. I work mostly nights, which is hard to explain why, but I manage. Maybe a day job would be good as well, plus I’d get more money. It would mean I’d get closer to the surgery I need and end this whole thing faster. I don’t really want to get use to living here, because I know I will have to leave. Or I will eventually leave anyways. Not before spending some more time with Jaimie, making money and having that surgery.  

[ginevrawestwood]

with: @riverpatel

where: Broom Closet 

He encouraged her to get out there, live her best life and not say it’s gonna happen tomorrow. It was always tomorrow, and the tomorrow became three months in and out of work and her temporary home. Knowing what she knew, her health, she wasn’t out there as usual, back in Oregon. There she was full of life, going out day and night. But here, she felt more tamed, more humbled down maybe. Time became her biggest enemy, right next to money which was more but still not enough. Life was indeed too short, and she needed happiness. What was it she called happiness then? Food or music, just the two of those. She’s been getting some nice food back at the restricted area and the music was, eh bearable. So, buying something nice and something no overplayed, would be nice. The only thing that bothered her was, she had no recorder to play anything on. Eventually buying any record would be purely for the satisfaction of her soul and material needs. Exactly what the soul needed. Yes she could have asked her brother, but she wanted to explore some parts of the town on her own as well. For now, it felt he has been holding her hand, like when she was little, leading her anywhere and everywhere. This was indeed the first time she left the house not going either to the grocery store, to the hospital or to her job. 

Google stated that there is one small record shop in town, which was part record and part witchy. Never before she thought about meddling with such stuff, maybe it was time to try anything at this point. Anything other than asking for help, or money. She could have gotten the money easily, just by asking her brother. She knew that very well. Just the need to prove to herself, that she can get out of this on her own was much bigger than that. It was eventually her who gotten herself where she is (probably), so she will be the one to get herself out of it. And the record will help, with the flowing thoughts. Hell, she might be even buying some witchy stuff to help her sleep better, or just hang around her room. It was the smell that slapped her in her face as she walked inside that small shop that was recommended to her. There were no crowds, and she had all the time now, to look properly after everything she laid her eyes on. Records – that is where her steps led her. She hangs her tote bag on her wrist and slowly she started skimming trough the records, puling them out and looking at them more. Setting them aside, onto one another, slowly making some pile of the ones she will decide on. Just one bad move it took to make them tumble down the floor, making the biggest noise ever in this small building. Hence she felt all the eyes that were not there on her. She gathered her thoughts before kneeling down to the floor to start picking and piling up the fallen records back onto one another before some employee throws her out, with a smile on their face. .

[ginevrawestwood]

Date: 18/06/2022

I am so happy to see him, finally, after such a long time. I always forget how nice it is to spend time with my brother. Now, he seems a little different, not what I was used to all these years. Better. And I probably came to ruin his peaceful life he had. I tried to enjoy literally every second, now that I know what I know.

As if it wasn’t enough, right before I took my well-deserved shower after that long trip here, my doctor back from home called. To check on me and ask me, if I already decided on the operation, if I have the much needed funds. And in fact, I do not have them, and I told my doctor. She didn’t sound very pleased with this answer. Her constant pressure just reminds me every day, that medication won’t be enough for much longer. She made me promise her (trough the phone) that I will try to get the funds to go trough the operation, for my own sake. The medicine helps, for now. I haven’t felt pains in long time. Questionable is, how long it will stay this way.

And oh, I forgot to tell my doctor I am no longer in Oregon. Now I am wondering, if I should call her back or let her discover on her own. As it is said: if you discover it on your own, it imprints on your mind better. Subconsciously I know, I am playing with my life here, but the numb feeling just makes me not do anything about it, no matter how serious it is.

[ginevrawestwood]

Date: 16/06/2022

Mom had many follow-up questions about why and why again. If I had 10 dollars for each „why“ which came out of her mouth in the last days, I’d have at least 200 dollars by now. Such a pity I don’t get paid for this. Or packing. I packed half-of my room into one suitcase, I myself don’t know how it is physically possible.

Oh well, but here I am, sitting on the floor of my childhood bedroom, thinking and being sentimental. I don’t want to think this is the last time, I am seeing that yellow wall or my very comfy bed. Very likely it might be the case; I just don’t want to accept that. Like I am refusing death on its own. My reckless choices have led me here, so I will have to lead myself out of this. And if I was about to die, at least I will do something I enjoy. Mom doesn’t know, or dad, nor James for the matter. I told him I am going to work as a cook. They all know I am going there to work as a helping-chef in the kitchen, to practice more what I’ve already learnt. A small lie, half-lie if you have it. I am really going to work there, even in the restaurant. I just won’t the one cooking, I will be the one entertaining.

If I am to die, let it be on the boards of that podium, while I sing my heart out.

Signing out.