A Start

Chase leaned back from his most recent drawing, examining the futuristic dystopian city he'd drawn for his most recent client. He'd spent the past few hours putting little details and finishing touches to his design. Finally, when he was as satisfied as he could be with his work, he sent the file off to the client and checked the clock. Halloween was drawing to a close in another hour and Chase meant to go to church in the morning.

He stood and put his computer to sleep before going into the shower and washing his body, which was already practically clean as it was, given all he'd done all day was sit and draw. However, out of habit as much as anything Chase let the water soak his body before he began scrubbing himself with the body wash and rag.

Things had improved over the past week. Justine was back in decent health and Chase had been able to resume working properly. Justine had decided to begin working as well. She'd begun to work as a cashier at the nearby superstore. Chase had insisted that she hadn't needed to begin working, but Justine had been adamant. She was grateful for Chase's help, but also didn't want to live entire off of him, so she began her own job. Truthfully her pay wasn't all that much, but it did offer her the freedom to purchase a few clothes and things she'd wanted for herself, and helped that she purchased food on her own.

Despite her claims of being a poor cook, Chase found he actually really enjoyed what she prepared and it was often far healthier and more complex than anything he would've attempted on his own. Truthfully, the biggest relief was a few hours in the house to himself. As much as Chase appreciated having Justine around and the growth in their friendship with one another, the fact was that his own space was no longer his alone. As such, the times when Justine wasn't around became somewhat relaxing, and meant that he was more able to appreciate when she was around.

As Chase hit the bed, he felt his weariness carry him off into sleep as if he were in the gentle embrace of a cloud. It was a strange result of having Justine stay with him, but Chase found that he tended to sleep much more soundly when she was around. It was almost like her presence within his apartment had given her a home in his racing mind as well, and she helped keep him calm. It was probably just a stupid bit of sentiment that made him think like that, but he couldn't deny the result.

His dreams that night were such that he couldn't remember them later, but he awoke refreshed and peaceful, albeit wrapped up in his bedsheets, reminding himself somewhat of a mummy. Chase had to twist and slither his way out of the sheets before he was able to escape the clutches of his bed, and knew that if he didn't do so quickly, the threat of falling back asleep was a very real one.

However, after more than a little bit of effort, he managed to remove the covers and began to dress himself while he could hear Justine busying herself in the bathroom. Chase smiled to himself as he pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and his faithful hoodie.

Today was a fairly big deal, all things considered. Justine had finally agreed to attend church with him. Up until then, she'd always declined the offer, usually citing that she still wasn't well enough or didn't feel up to the travel, but Chase had known better. The fact was that Justine felt afraid to actually attend a church. However much progress she had made recently, the fact was that she still held her own past against herself and was having problems moving past it.

However, he couldn't help but feel solidly that her moving towards God was the right step for her to take. She had still been apprehensive the previous evening, but she'd agreed. Justine usually took a while getting ready in the morning, so Chase handled breakfast, cooking up sausage and a couple omelets. By the time Justine was ready, he was just finishing with the food and sat down across his little table from her.

"Thanks," she said, smiling softly at him.

"Your welcome," said Chase, passing a small container which held her morning dose of the methadone.

Justine grimaced at it slightly, but took the pill all the same. She never seemed to like taking the pills much, and given her history as an addict he could understand, but in the end he figured the relief must be worth the distaste. Inwardly he was grateful that she was willing to take the pills, because he'd been warned the many of the people who refused to stay on the medication for at least three months ended up relapsing. Still, he understood where Justine was coming from to a degree. In her mind, all she'd done was trade one drug for another.

They ate together, joking as they let a couple episodes of a sitcom stream on the television. Chase had never had a true moment to apply contentment to, but he had to admit that if it was possible to be satisfied with an earthly moment, ones like this must surely be strong contenders. Meanwhile, Justine idly fiddled with a poem she'd been working on the previous night.

Chase had to admit he'd grown fond of some of her habits while she worked. He liked thought it was cute she would often tap the end of her pencil against the pad of paper while thinking. Sometimes she would get incredibly focused and write intensely for several lines, causing a lone strand of hair to fall down in front of her face. She would then quickly truck the strand behind one ear and continue her work.

Justine carried an intensity and determination that shown through in whatever she had her mind set on. Chase was forcibly reminded of her stubborn refusal to remain on the methadone indefinitely. To him it was a large goal, not made any smaller by her desire to turn many aspects of her life around. When she'd first come back to his apartment, they'd had to talk to a doctor about the dangers of her treatment and the risk of relapse. There were a small list of rules they were supposed to follow. Many of the rules, such as not having any addictive substances or alcohol in the house, were of little consequence to Chase, as he so rarely drank anyway. However, the rules had been a massive adjustment to Justine's old life. However, she accepted the changes whole-heartedly, and often displayed a bull-like determination to reject her previous lifestyle.

Personally, Chase was grateful for this, as he'd been told repeatedly that it was impossible to help someone who didn't want to change first. However, if his time with her was any indication, Justine didn't just want to change, she was determined to. She also seemed far happier than she'd ever been in the time Chase had known her. She would often smile and laugh, and when she did it would cause her entire face to light up like a town during Christmas night. More than that though, there was something underneath all of her efforts, and it took Chase a while to fully understand what it was.

But eventually he found the word for it: Purpose.

There was a determination and action behind everything she did now. Before, she'd been someone who was desperate to make the flow of life stop. She'd wanted to numb herself to all the pain, misery, and hopelessness she'd been trapped in for years. While she hadn't completely fixed the broken pieces of her life yet, she was moving forward and repairing herself, piece by piece. It was a little funny to him that so many romanic comedies depicted a relationship as completing a person or as the partner being the one who mended a broken heart. Real life was different. Chase wasn't the one fixing Justine's life for her, she was doing it herself and he was just helping her do it. Yet, as he thought about it, he had to admit that it was better that way. After all, one of the things he liked about Justine was her strength, determination and independence.

As they finished breakfast, Chase snatched up his keys, using the remote starter as they opened the front door, welcoming in the rays of the morning sun. As he was locking the door behind him, Chase saw little Mrs. Hoffman sitting on her patio, and he waved to her, smiling slightly.

"Hey Misses Hoffman," he said, brightly. "We still on for tomorrow?"

"Oh, of course dear," she said, smiling up at him. "Can't wait to meet this young lady you've told me about."

"Well I'm see you tomorrow then," Chase said, climbing into the driver's seat of the car.

Justine took over his stereo, quickly putting on something Chase would never have been able to correctly guess. Justine had an unexpected love of classical music and would often enthusiastically discuss the merits of several famous composers, as well as several names Chase had never once heard and wasn't entirely sure she hadn't just made up. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that there was an appeal in the dramatic nature of the orchestral music. It reminded him a little of movie scores. Although, if he were honest with himself, tracks by someone like John Williams would always hold more appeal to him than Beethoven or Bach. Still, Chase couldn't deny the talent on display in the artists' work, and so they drove toward the church listening to what the radio display listed as Pachelbel Canon in D.

Chase found himself throughly enjoying the seventeen-minute drive to their church, both he and Justine often laughing and arguing good-naturedly over things like restaurants and museums. Eventually, their conversation turned to the prices of original works by famous artists through history.

"They just sold a real Monet painting in New York last year, in May, for over one hundred and ten million dollars."

"What in the actual hell?" Justine asked, her eyes wide as dinner plates. "There's no way any painting is worth that much money."

"It's more than just the painting," Chase tried to explain. "Monet was arguably the greatest impressionist of all time. His work has been highly coveted by the art work for ages. Don't get me wrong, I agree that it's a ludicrous amount of money. But things in the art world can be like that. Sculptures can be even worse than paintings."

"That's just nuts," Justine said. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I believe he's talented and makes some pretty art, but I just don't get it. I mean, no matter how good a song is, it's still just worth a dollar to purchase and download."

"It goes beyond that," Chase said, taking the exit off the highway. "I mean, sure replicas of famous art are affordable and they look alike enough, but it's not the original. It's like when you have a first edition of a famous book, it's worth a lot more than a regular copy of it, and the original manuscript with be worth even more."

"But it's all the same story."

Chase laughed, nodding softly.

"Well… you're not wrong about that."

"Don't me wrong," she said. "If someone recovered the original papers that Mozart actually transcribed his music onto, I'd get a huge kick out of checking them out in a museum or exhibit or something. But I wouldn't pay millions of dollars for them, even if I had that sort of cash to burn."

Chase laughed and shook his head. He had to admit, she did have a decent point on that. All-in-all, he was just grateful for the moments like this, in which they could talk, they could laugh, and they could live.