Yelena Belova (
the_best_sister) wrote2024-09-05 10:58 pm
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Lighthouse Cottage - Friday Evening
Outside on the picket fence of the Lighthouse Cottage, a simple sign was tacked up:
Come inside and help with IKEA construction.
Free booze!
Free food!
Way too friendly dog!
Inside, the promise was kept. If your idea of food and booze was stacks of pizza boxes and mostly cheap beer and hard liquor.
Yelena had spent most of the week fixing up the place, but the IKEA shipment had only arrived yesterday, so the furniture was still a work in progress. The walls and ceilings were freshly painted white, but the carpet, drapes, and lighting in the two-bedroom cottage were a riot of mismatched colors. It was like someone had thrown a Jackson Pollock painting into a blender with that psychedelic boat trip from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
And right in the middle of this chaotic, colorful mess was Yelena, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by half-assembled IKEA furniture and discarded instructions. She’d been at it all day, and it showed. She’d given up on any hope of a put-together look, dressed only in a tank top and athletic shorts, her hair a tangled mess falling into her face.
The living room was mostly done, there was a dining room table standing on its own four legs, and one bed was finally put together in the bedroom. But there were still stacks of flat-pack boxes waiting to test her patience. At this point, it was just about survival.
And maybe, bribing people with enough booze to help finish the rest…
[Open to all. Up early because I might have a hectic morning. ]
Allen Wrench Party
Come inside and help with IKEA construction.
Free booze!
Free food!
Way too friendly dog!
Inside, the promise was kept. If your idea of food and booze was stacks of pizza boxes and mostly cheap beer and hard liquor.
Yelena had spent most of the week fixing up the place, but the IKEA shipment had only arrived yesterday, so the furniture was still a work in progress. The walls and ceilings were freshly painted white, but the carpet, drapes, and lighting in the two-bedroom cottage were a riot of mismatched colors. It was like someone had thrown a Jackson Pollock painting into a blender with that psychedelic boat trip from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
And right in the middle of this chaotic, colorful mess was Yelena, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by half-assembled IKEA furniture and discarded instructions. She’d been at it all day, and it showed. She’d given up on any hope of a put-together look, dressed only in a tank top and athletic shorts, her hair a tangled mess falling into her face.
The living room was mostly done, there was a dining room table standing on its own four legs, and one bed was finally put together in the bedroom. But there were still stacks of flat-pack boxes waiting to test her patience. At this point, it was just about survival.
And maybe, bribing people with enough booze to help finish the rest…
[Open to all. Up early because I might have a hectic morning. ]
Re: Mingle and Make Furniture
"Do you want a beer or a whiskey before I start making you work?" Yelena asked.
What? Like Logan would prefer a cheerful greeting?
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"A beer," Logan settled on, almost soothed by how blunt it was. "I hope you don't expect much."
Though, based on the decor... she didn't.
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He did not manage to make that sound like a compliment.
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Beeeestieeeees.
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Beeeestieeeees.
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Look, she wasn't lying.
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He'd do that one. And judge the try-hard over there with the tool kit.
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"Probably one of the dining room chairs," Yelena said cheerfully returning the gesture. "Or you can just eat pizza and drink beer, I don't care."
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It was Hawaiian.
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Could be worse, Logan. It could be black olives and pineapple with a burnt crust.
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"I'm good without the pineapple." Did your dog like pineapple, Yelena? Because that was going to be a thing. "At least it's not burned."
Wade.
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Did you understand how much he had to bulk for this role, Yelena? Just so much protein for all that muscle mass.
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"How am I not surprised?" Yelena teased, and started pouring a hefty amount of whiskey into a cup for him. "Now what are the magic words for the whiskey?"
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"The magic word?" Their friendship was a thing of legends. "Am I a five year old?"
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She then paused for a second and put her hand on his shoulder. “I do appreciate you coming,” she said sincerely.
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