by Xavier Neal
You know every Spring they play this movie a ridiculous amount. Not that I watch it every time it comes on. Just occasionally. Oh...Don't give me that look! You know it's funny! And more importantly you know the message matters.
By the time Kellan comes out completely changed, the credits are beginning to roll. We exchange a few casual words about the breakfast choices before I disappear the way he came to shower as well. A little after ten, we're both changed, luggage packed, and strolling side by side to the McAllizter Art Studio. The crisp wind hits my bare legs instantly making me regret not putting tights on underneath my jean skirt.
The temperature implied a warm day. Forgive me for not bothering to read how cold the wind was predicted to be.
Kellan opens the door to the studio and I rush inside to enjoy the blasting heat.
“We're closed today,” a woman says from an unseen location.
My eyes do a quick scan of the room for the voice yet come up completely empty.
The voice repeats, “We are closed today for a private showing. Bruno please show them out.”
The security guard who was patiently waiting for his cue motions his hand towards the door while the other lingers at his side.
“We are the private showing,” Kellan announces firmly. “Kellan Kenningston. I bid on the afternoon yesterday during a silent auction.”
Suddenly there's a clicking sound that remind me of heels. “Kellan!” Our eyes shift up to the second level where a stunning blonde woman in a sultry black dress is standing. “I didn't recognize you on the monitor!” Her hands curl around the railing. “You look even more amazing than the last time I saw you.”
Under my breath, I snip, “Is there any one woman on the planet you haven't slept with?”
He clears his throat and says back, “Why thank you, Candy. You look quite stunning as well. I see marrying a yoga instructor has a multitude of benefits.”
Candy giggles and shakes her head. “I did not marry her because she was a yoga instructor. It just made working out easier.”
Okay...My mistake.
Kellan smugly smirks at me. “Candy and I met through her wife who is an avid donor to The Collin Murphy Foundation. It's the one who hosted the run I attended earlier this year. Her wife, Mandy, had a younger sibling who died of acute lymphocytic leukemia when she was a teenager, which led to her decision to want to give to the foundation. I met Mandy who is actually from Rortaverian, a coastal city in Doctenn, during a triathlon for the foundation.”
I attempt to un-wedge the foot down my throat. “Oh...”
He hums victoriously and returns his attention to her. “So, are there specific instructions for our private showing? Things we can and cannot touch.”
“You are never allowed to touch the art work unless you've purchased it.”
“Are the paintings available for purchase?”
His question grabs my attention yet he doesn't look my direction.
No way do I leave here with a one of kind...anything...Do you have any idea how much these paintings go for? I barely belong sharing the same air space with them. I definitely don't belong having one to hang in my bedroom. Well of course it would be for me. Kellan is allergic to actual artwork. The walls of his penthouse are primarily bare except for the signed lacrosse poster from his favorite team, which hangs over his bar and the few photos of us we've had framed. You don't think he'd buy one of these paintings as a 'remember me' break up present, do you? That's not...That's not something normal people do when they end a relationship. They don't give the other person a parting gift...Then again this is Kellan. Very little about him or this relationship is normal.
“They are,” Candy answers. “If you find one that you wish to take with you, you can summon me down and we can discuss a price. Other than that, the studio is yours to enjoy. No photography. No videos. Something I'm sure you can appreciate, Kellan.”
After last night, that makes two of us. I don't think I've ever had my picture taken so many times in one night. I've also never been trending before. Can't say I enjoyed it. Having an audience of strangers judge me on my looks and ridicule me over what felt like being back in high school but on a much larger, much more vicious scale.
“Because the private showing is you, Kellan, I will have the cameras shut off with the exception of the exits. There's a thin red line that looks like tape in front of the displays, which is actually an alarm trigger. It will sound if you are too close. At that point please be aware, Bruno will be forced to verify you haven't compromised the art and escort you out. If you have any questions, feel free to hit one of the intercom buttons, and it'll promptly grab my attention.”
“Thank you,” Kellan says kindly.
“Yes, thank you!” I exclaim, over eager to see artists I've spent years following.
Candy heads back into her office while we make our way straight back down the hall, past the welcoming wall. On the other side is the first set of paintings positioned on a bright red wall. Each of the creations seem to come to life with the assistance of the accented background.
Making sure to keep behind the line, I longingly stare at the masterpieces secretly solemn that I'll never create anything remotely worth being in a place like this.
Best case scenario? I graduate and get to run a place like this. You know, if I ever have the desire to do that. Worst case scenario? I end up working at a craft store selling overly priced paint to parents who have enrolled their teenagers in advanced art classes. Either way, being showcased in a well renowned gallery isn't happening.
“That looks like a porcupine with a party hat,” Kellan jokes from beside me. “And not a good party hat either.”
I roll my eyes at the comment.
“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly. “It's just...I've seen thousands of paintings and not one of them has ever looked like something worth spending a fortune on.”
“We discussed this when we first met,” I sweetly remind him as we move along to another wall where a single painting is displayed. “You'll eventually run into a piece of art that screams at you so loud you won't be able to ignore it. That'll move you in ways you didn't even know possible.” My head tilts at the abstract piece. “I just hope I'm around to see it.”
Realizing my confession, I quickly move further into the building, this time heading for the right corner in hopes of gaining my composure before he catches up. The section is dimmed darker than the other half of the room presenting the paintings in their ideal lighting and I take advantage of that along with the bench positioned directly across from them.
Seconds after I'm seated, Kellan slides down beside me in silence.
Unable to take the tension any longer, I quietly snap, “Did you bring me here as some sort of unusual way to say goodbye? To say you don't wanna do this anymore? Am I here to pick out a consolation prize for losing you?”
Kellan doesn't respond and the compression in my chest I battled all night returns.
Wow...So this is over.
“I hate art,” he begins slowly, “and yet I've been to more galleries and showings and art stores in the past three months than I ever thought imaginable. I hate art yet one of my favorite things is listening to you ramble on about what you're studying when you get home from class.” A smile threatens my face. “I hate art and every day part of me hates it a little less simply because you love it a little more.”
My head wants to turn but I refuse.
“Simply because it brings you so much pure unadulterated joy. Because it brings passion and purpose to your life. The only thing I find myself truly wanting any more, Brie, is your happiness as if it were my own.” Unable to resist any longer, I allow our eyes to meet. “It's why I handled last night's moments so poorly. I couldn't stand the idea for one minute that you were hurt by their words or angered by their actions. I...I was upset because for the first time since we started dating I felt your happiness would be in actual jeopardy. The notion that it was and there wasn't anything I could t
o protect it drove me to a level of madness I've never experienced before. My brother says, it's what happens when you love someone.”
My mouth slowly creaks open.
“And I do love you, Brie. I don't care about what anyone thinks or says or does as long as I know you're all right. That you'll be all right. And if for some reason you're not, I want to be the one who helps make it all right.” His hand gently grazes my cheek. “Always.” Kellan doesn't bother waiting for a response before softly smashing his lips to mine. The moment our tongues reunite a sigh of relief slips free from both of us. My arms wrap around his neck as I allow his apology to transform into a deep declaration of so much more than a simple I love you.
I've been in love before and it's never felt anything like this. I've never had anyone who makes me feel so naturally beautiful inside and out. Someone who is willing to sacrifice himself or his own happiness for the sake of my own. I've never met anyone else I was willing to do the same for. Someone I was willing to be ridiculed or unfairly judged for simply standing beside them. I've never met anyone I was this willing to fight with and for. Between you and me? I hope whatever we have, lasts a life time. I hope that I was wrong before. I hope this prince someday turns me into his princess.
Brie
“Ugh, what is that?” The red headed teen gags.
Politely, I answer, “It's cauliflower macaroni and cheese.”
She gags again before sneering at me. “What was wrong with regular mac and cheese?”
Despite the nasty attitude that came with the question, I'm totally with her on that one. I mean I get it. They're all for healthy eats and blah blah blah, but come on. It's mac and cheese! It's meant to be cheesy and creamy and terrible for you.
I force another polite smile. “This is the choice approved by the school. Would you like a scoop?”
The teen skips the decision to answer me and returns to talking to her friend who is texting beside her.
“It's the last week of school, can't you serve better food?” A guy in a letterman’s jacket questions as he glances at his selections.
It's the last week of school, can't you be a better person?
Through gritted teeth I state, “This is what was approved by the school.”
“School sucks so the food sucks. Makes sense,” the guy chuckles with the support of his two friends behind him.
Last Monday of the school year and almost every person who has come through the line is making sure I appreciate that fact. For the past three hours, it has been an endless parade of youth complaining about the lunch choices. Never mind the fact we have no say in what they're served and usually very little say in when it's served. They don't give a shit that it is completely out of our hands. They just blame us as if our secret mission in life is to make them miserable. Newsflash. If it was? I personally wouldn't be secretive about it.
The last wave of students file out of our serving area and Bernice closes the garage style door behind them.
“Ungrateful sons of bitches,” she mumbles, locking it to insure they don't attempt to return. “If I wasn't trying to help put my youngest through college I swear I'd go back to working at Toni's Ice Cream Parlor.”
I hit her with a smile. “I'm sure he appreciates it.”
“Mmm...He can appreciate it a little better by picking a damn major.” Bernice makes her way to my side of the station. “Don't you finally graduate this week?”
“Hopefully. I took all my finals last week, and I meet with my professor tomorrow to discuss my finished portfolio. If everything goes smooth, I will finally walk across the stage in two weeks.”
“You excited?”
I scrape the leftover pasta into the trashcan she's wheeled over. “Relieved.”
“I bet,” she hums, following my action with the bowl of salad left over. “Have you decided what you wanna do? Applied for jobs anywhere?”
Sheepishly, I shake my head.
Not a fucking clue. Unlike Jovi who has already made her way into the art industry, I have never worked for anyone in the business other than a required internship last year. To be honest, after talking to Candy a few weeks ago, I'm not sure if the gallery life is for me. Sure, the idea of being surrounded by promising pillars in the industry would be exciting but at the same time I think I'd begin to feel inadequate like I did at the Treme showing. I think if I were a talent scout the same feelings would occur. Graduating and having no clue what you're going to do sucks, just for the record. At the end of this week, I don't even have a day to day job any more. Hm. That reminds me. Post-graduation I may not have an apartment any more either. Adulting sucks.
After Bernice and I clear out our food stations, help wash dishes, and prep for the morning, we're able to leave a little earlier than expected. Within the first three minutes in my car, my cell phone begins to ring.
I hit the speaker phone button. “Hello.”
“Thought you'd still be at work,” my dad says with a hint of surprise in his tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yup. Just off a little early.”
“Headed home?”
“Yeah.” As quickly as the word leaves, I correct, “Well...to Kellan's.”
Which is practically home. We spend most nights at his place even when we've spent the day at mine. It's been working out for the best. I spend the night at Kellan's, Merrick spends the night at our place, and we all hang out most days somewhere in the middle. Maybe that's why I'm not panicking more over having to leave the apartment. I've basically moved out already.
“Speaking of, I was calling to see if you had any special requests for your party.”
Pulling into the far lane, I question, “What party?”
“Your graduation party!”
The confusion completely remains.
“Kellan told us not to worry about taking you to dinner after your graduation because he had already booked a place for your party. I thought the least we could do was bring something like the cake or cupcakes or some sort of dessert. I tried calling him, but there was no answer, so I figured I would ask the graduate herself.”
Awe settles into my system.
A surprise party? Ugh. Does he have to keep getting sweeter?
“Chocolate with chocolate frosting.”
“That's my girl....”
“And be thankful he didn't answer. He would've said some sort of cheesecake with berries or pineapple or some other bizarre topping and I would've had to smash it in his face.”
The two of us laugh. “Glad I called then.”
“It's for the best.” I accelerate onto the highway. “Is it just you, mom, and Candice coming?”
“He told us we could invite whoever we wanted to celebrate in your success,” my father sings like a Jay bird. “I've had to cut your mother's list down three times already. I figure by next week it'll look more reasonable. With the way she was just adding names to it you'd think you two were getting married.”
The idea makes me smile.
It's crossed my mind! I know! I know! It's way too fast and way too soon, but...
Too much silence passes, which spurs my father to ask, “Brie you two aren't-”
“No,” I deny quickly this time. “We haven't even discussed living together let alone marriage.” To my surprise there's a huge exhale. “You can relax, dad. Your little girl isn't about to walk down the aisle any time soon.”
“Good,” he says with relief in his tone.
“I thought you loved Kellan.”
“I do,” he assures. “And I wouldn't mind the two of you living happily ever after some day. Key words are...someday. Not today.”
My father's protectiveness makes me grin wildly.
Daddy's little girl. He says that now but something tells me some day will never happen in his head. I don't think he'll ever be ready to give me up.
“Alright dad, I'm here. Gonna head up.” I pull into the private parking space reserved for me. “Was there anything else you needed?”
“No,” he replies. “Enjoy your evening.”
“I love you, dad.”
“Love you too.”
The call ends and I slowly shake my head.
A party? He's throwing me a party? I thought my mother sending out a million graduation announcements was more than enough. Why is he insisting on making this day such a huge deal? It's not like it's impressive. It's taken me ten years to get a bachelor's degree and I still have no idea what I'm going to do with it.
I grab my bag as well as my portfolio case and take the elevator connected to his building. Once I've reached his floor, I swipe my card to allow me access to the level, quickly walk down the hall, and use my card again to enter his penthouse.