Packages — #3
—Griffen
The third package arrived just as unceremoniously as the first two, but at this point she had almost been expecting something new. It had been just over a month since her clothing had taken a turn for the darker and the new routine had been established. She was getting comfortable and as if summoned by her comfort the package came, once again while she was out at yoga.
That, at least, had been going well. She had shaved off every college pound and then a few extra. It had given her a lot more energy and a lot more confidence in her body. She had previously shied away from tighter clothes out of a small amount of shame at her body shape and how much she had gained since college, but now that she was thin she had a growing desire to show off how in shape she was in. Professional concerns were somehow less important when contrasted to her desire to show off, if only for a little while. She expected that eventually she’d get bored with showing off how tight her stomach was or somebody would make an untoward comment and she’d go back to the boring and practical lab wear, but for now she was very happy with how much leeway her supervisor title gave her.
The only downside was that since yoga was held inside, she had been getting a lot less sun over the past few months and what little color she had faded away leaving her looking very pale. It was a bit concerning, but to be honest, the contrast between her ultra-pale skin and her black wardrobe was starting to grow on her. When bikini season came, she’d have to invest in some tanning or very good sunscreen to make sure she didn’t burn before she set foot on the beach, but for now it could stay.
Not that she had disposable income for either right now. Despite her original intent, most of Veronica’s wardrobe had been replaced with darker clothes, blacks first and foremost. At first it had just been the bottoms: slacks, skirts, shorts, and jeans, but it had slowly crept outward. Part of it was the convenience. With everyone more or less one color her laundry had been simplified from being sorted by colors to simply being ‘heavy, thin, and delicates’. Part of it was indulging in her desire to show off her gym work with tighter and lower cut clothes. But most practically, it was because with as much black as she was wearing, she had far fewer issues about stray hairs standing out. Both her hair and that of Aaron’s cat.
That was another new thing and while Veronica wanted to feel bad about it, she just couldn’t. They had both been stuck at work late one night and Aaron had caught her humming a song. ‘Black March’ fittingly enough. She had been embarrassed, but then pleasantly surprised when the ribbing she had been expecting over both her humming and her taste in music had instead turned into discussions of concert tours. Aaron apparently had been a fan of the band for years and was just enthused to find someone who also enjoyed them.
Veronica didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had only found the song the week before due to a misclick on her running playlist. It had gotten stuck in her head and just refused to leave. She instead faked her way through a conversation and then spent the evening listening to Chemical Love’s entire discography to help maintain the lie.
It had been surprisingly enjoyable actually. She had never been one for anything modern. She had always found guitars screeching and distracting, preferring the dulcet tones of violins and soft piano. But the way Chemical Love blended piano into what was a more conventional four-piece band had worked to soften the pain in a way she would never have thought of before.
Other conversations about Chemical Love had led to discussions about other bands which had then turned to an offer for her to come by his house and have a listening party. She had been reluctant. He was her subordinate, she needed to maintain some professional boundaries. But after spending the evening cleaning her house to Chemical Love and then sleeping to some of their lighter songs, she had decided that having a mutual interest that she could discuss with her coworkers was acceptable. Good even.
So that Thursday they had ordered some pizza and just hung out listening to songs for hours on end. Between the tunes, his adorable black cat, and the conversation Veronica had left his apartment feeling lighter than she had in years. They had immediately turned the one time party into a weekly affair. Aaron always hosted, unfortunately, because his sound system was so much better than Veronica’s. If he resented that, it never seemed to show and it quite honestly made Veronica feel better about the entire affa…thing. A man inviting a woman over could be platonic. A woman inviting a man over could only mean one thing.
Veronica wasn’t sure where she had heard that, but her recent experiences had certainly shown that it was true. She never brought anyone to her house unless she intended to fuck them, but she was at Aaron’s every week with no issues.
Music was the final reason why her wardrobe had taken a turn for the darker. Just like any proper capitalist, she had decided to show her newfound love of music the only way she knew how: Buying their merch. And while Chemical Love’s music was deep and layered their shirts were all very black.
It was a notable change, but again, one she had grown comfortable with.
Today’s package, however, she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle. The package was smaller than the rest, but it was filled to the brim with make-up. Eyeshadow, eye powder, eye liner, lip gloss, nail polish, and a lining pencil. All of it black. It was like looking into the clearance section on November 1st. Halloween rejects as far as the eye could see.
Which, if Veronica was being honest, was kinda her vibe these days. If this hadn’t come in a creepy box, she might’ve actually been excited. Now, instead, she looked at the makeup with disappointment. A thought crossed her mind. There was going to be a compulsion that came out of this, of course there was, but did it explicitly have to be this makeup? It had been that way with the choker, but the clothes had been entirely her choice? Could she instead of accepting this box just go out and buy her own?
She pursed her lips in thought. Based on her previous experience she had a few hours before the compulsion would fully settle in, which was more than enough time for her to run out and buy her own makeup. She had long ago accepted that there was no fighting these compulsions, but she could still pursue her agency within the confines.
Two hours, and several hundred dollars later, she had a full vanity of black makeup supplies. There was no itch this time, no discomfort if her face was without makeup. Instead there was a creeping dread that built the longer she was outside without makeup on. It had taken a panic attack in the dressing room of a local boutique before she had cut and ran home with what she had.
The panic had receded the moment she had got through the door, but no matter how long she sat at home, the feeling never fully faded. Reluctantly, she sat at her vanity and opened the black lip gloss. It looked like a void, but went on silk smooth, without any blemishes. It had taken Veronica by surprise. It had been a few years since she had worn make up, but the reflexes were apparently still there. She looked at herself in the mirror, and seeing the liquid black across her lips made the anxiety immediately die down. Down, but not gone. She took a moment to ire what the gloss had done for her, how it stood out against her skin and neatly matched her hair. Reluctantly, she had to it, the black looked good on her.
But the anxiety hadn’t completely left, so she took the mascara brush in hand and went to work on her eyes. And in the background, her radio played songs she couldn’t help but hum along to.