Reality's Illusion

by Stephie Walls

  I watched his eyes process. I was no photographer, my knowledge limited, but I’d been around enough artists to have some basic conceptual understanding of what could be done with technology.

  “Give me a few hours. I’ll bring you double exposure and superimposed.”

  “They need to be large enough for me to add to them. Sixteen by twenty, minimum. Matte will work better than glossy. The paint will adhere better.”

  “I thought we would lay it on canvas?”

  “That’s paint-by-number. You want unusual—let’s go out of the box.” I’d never seen either one done, but any painter can put color on fabric. To my knowledge, no one had attempted to do it on a photograph.

  “How many prints do you want?”

  “One of the double and one super. I don’t deal in multiples, Ferry.”

  Gathering his shit, he stuffed it back in his portfolio with little care. “I’ll be back in a few hours. You going to be here?”

  I tipped my head toward my studio. “I’m working on a piece. I’ll be here.”

  He glanced in the direction I was working. “May I?”

  I nodded and gave him the permission he apparently wanted and showed him down the hall to my easel.

  His brow furrowed as he turned toward me. “Is this Sera?”

  I shrugged. “Not verbatim, but there are certainly similarities.”

  To date, no one had called me out on my relationship with Sera. Not even Nate had pushed for a label or details. The truth was that the painting looked as much like Sylvie as Sera; however, Ferry hadn’t put the two together.

  “Be careful, Bastian.” He cleared away whatever I’d seen lurking in his face.

  My heart raced, and my haunches rose, but I had to play this cool. I couldn’t go at him guns blazing, but I didn’t like the way he currently stared at me. “Something I should know?”

  Ferry took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. When his shoulders sank and his eyes dropped, I almost hated to hear his answer. “She’s not who you think she is, Bastian.” Another deep breath was followed by a hint of pity. “She has a reputation and is into things you don’t need to get involved in.”

  I searched his face for any hint of what he might actually know, but when I found nothing, I kept my mouth shut. I cared too much about her to expose her to a business acquaintance. Ferry might have an inkling and been just as judgmental as me. Sera had entrusted me with personal information, information that had the power to destroy her in the wrong hands—at least in this community. Personally, I struggled to understand her lifestyle, and I’d taken the time to try to comprehend it. Others wouldn’t be so gracious.

  While I wouldn’t debate the topic with anyone, I would stand up for her because that’s what decent human beings did. “She’s a good girl.”

  “Just watch yourself.” He patted me on the shoulder with a hearty clamp of his hand. “I’d hate to see you get pulled down when you’re soaring again.”

  I appreciated the sentiment, but his words hadn’t affected me the way Ferry likely believed they would. He’d thought to dissuade me, and when the door closed behind him with a deep thud, I’d channeled his misunderstanding of my muse into paint.

  There wasn’t a detail about her—visually—that I couldn’t recall.

  She’d been here a couple of days ago and started laughing. I can’t remember a single thing about the actual conversation that started her giggles, but her image at that moment was etched into my memory. Every angle, hue, the way the light hit her as if the lens had focused on her, blurring everything in the peripheral. She’d had on a thin spaghetti-strap tank top and jeans, but when she’d bent at the waist, doubled over in laughter, my mind had snapped a mental image of her—right as she had made eye contact with me. Her mouth was agape mid-laugh, her shoulders slightly rounded, accentuating her collarbones and her slender arms, her eyes alight with joy…mirth. There wasn’t a drop of makeup covering her skin, and yet, she had radiated life.

  And that was the image on the canvas in front of me. There would be no doubt of the subject when the painting was complete—no mistaking it was Sera. Exotic and unique, she was the quintessence of beauty though not classic—the kind found beyond society’s expectations with the layers peeled away. Other than Sylvie, nothing had ever crossed my path more graceful, more stunning, more alluring than Sera.

  The collage of snapshot-formed memories played like a slideshow in my mind, mentally flipping through the images. I stopped at the ones marked with bruises and pain, hidden behind glasses and covered by scarves. As much as her joy brought me light, her pain created darkness. It was the light I chose to focus my energy on because the light changed me. The darkness drowned me.

  Lost in her light, I put the finishing touches on the painting when my door swung open. I didn’t have to turn, only to glance at the clock, to know it was Nate. He never failed me, even when I’d wanted him to leave me alone. When I didn’t hear the door close, I turned into the hall to find Ferry a couple steps behind my best friend. Nate had dinner, and it appeared Ferry had prints. While Nate beelined for the kitchen, Ferry went for the couch.

  “How’d the developing go?” I wiped my hand on a rag as I approached.

  Ferry was haggard. Countless hours in a studio trying to salvage a project would do that. It happened to us all—making the decision to trash something that wasn’t quite right—but it never got any easier. Throwing away art was sacrilege. It was like cutting off your left hand because it wasn’t as strong as your right.

  “I won’t go into the horrific details.” Ferry tossed his portfolio onto the couch. “Things would probably be easier if I’d slept in the last couple of days, but my brain is foggy. What should be simple is becoming increasingly more difficult, so I’m dropping these off and going home to bed.”

  “Any direction you want me to take them?” I eyed the prints he’d pulled from the case.

  “This is all you.” He shook his head, dismayed. “I didn’t think of the imaging, so I’m not going to try to direct the painting.” Ferry zipped his leather case and stared me straight in the eye. “I leave tomorrow afternoon for a week to do a fashion shoot, so don’t feel you have to rush these.”

  “You do fashion?” I had no clue. I didn’t know whether to be appalled or admire his versatility.

  “It’s not at the top of my favorite things to do, but depending on the designer and the freedom they give me, it can be just as artistic as anything else. I’m incredibly picky about whom I work with. They either give me total creative license, or I don’t contract with them.” Only Ferry had that kind of clout. “Most of the time, they have another photographer doing standard runway shots. Mine are used more for advertising the line, high-end marketing campaigns to sell their diversity.” Ferry swayed, and his eyelids dropped. “Anyway, I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “Do you want me to take you home? You look like shit.” I watched as he appeared to fall asleep standing up. “Driving doesn’t seem like such a smart idea.”

  “Nah, I don’t live far from here. I’ll be okay.”

  “All right, man. I’ll see what I can do while you’re gone but no promises. This may go horribly wrong.”

  “That’s what you said about KD, and that earned you six figures.” With an awkward smile, he turned to leave. “Did you make any progress on the painting?”

  I assumed he referred to the one of Sera he’d seen in my studio, so I jerked my head toward the hall. When we reached the doorway, I let him go first.

  Ferry was silent for an uncomfortable minute, obviously taking in each detail on the canvas before lifting his eyes to meet mine. “There’s no denying her beauty. It’s exquisite, Bastian. Just keep it to the art.”

  I just bobbed my head in what Ferry would assume was agreement and understanding and then escorted him to the front door.

  Nate reappeared from the kitchen as I let Ferry out, and when I turned back, I found Nate leaning against the doorframe. “What w
as that about?”

  “He brought by some prints he wants me to try a new technique on. Another joint project, I guess.”

  “No, the part about keeping it to the art.” The scowl indicated Nate didn’t like the implication.

  With casual disregard, I answered my best friend. “He thinks I need to stay away from Sera.”

  Nate’s brow furrowed, narrowing his eyes. “Any particular reason?”

  “I didn’t ask. I don’t really care. Ferry’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t know her. Artists are all a little eccentric”—that was the truth—“otherwise, there’d be no creativity. He says she’s got a reputation and into stuff I don’t need to be a part of.”

  Nate folded his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles. “Maybe he knows her better than you think he does.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Frankly, I didn’t care who knew her or didn’t. It wouldn’t change my opinion. “What’s for dinner?” I walked past him, ending the discussion.

  10

  Chapter Ten

  Nate had taken stalking and prying to a whole new level, although I wasn’t certain why. More often than not, I came home to him hanging out at my house, waiting for me since I was seldom home for our standing after-work pow wow. The odd part wasn’t that Nate was there; it was that he didn’t say much before he left. And on the days he didn’t wait, he’d leave notes that were almost cryptic. Between Ferry and Tara and restarting my career, my time wasn’t really my own the way it had been for the last few years. And it hadn’t escaped my attention that if Ferry were with me when I got home, Nate typically excused himself shortly after we arrived.

  None of it made much sense. Nate had his own life. He went out with other friends, dated, had a demanding job in finance, but he’d also spent the last five-plus years babysitting me. Every day, without fail, Nate had shown up in some capacity to check on me. Maybe he’d reached the point where he needed the reassurance as much as he believed I did. Whatever it was, something was off—the chi was askew and the feng shui unbalanced. However, he hadn’t told me what, and I hadn’t asked. I felt it—sensed it—but unlike Nate, I had lost the connection that once enabled me to know without his telling me. And truth be told, I hadn’t asked because I was almost positive the tension centered around Ferry and Sera—neither of whom I wanted to address. Therefore, I tiptoed around until I figured out his mood for the evening, and then I adjusted mine accordingly.

  Tonight, the Nate I’d known my entire life made an appearance after he got off work. That was until he saw what I was working on—Ferry’s prints. Just like the last project Ferry and I had teamed up on, this one pushed my creative boundaries. That artistic nudge was something I hadn’t had in years, and I’d missed it. With each passing day, Ferry became more of a mentor—not that I went to him for advice, but because creatively, he was one step ahead of me. He helped me stretch my figurative box.

  His lips curled up before a single word left Nate’s mouth. “You just Ferry’s bitch at this point?” The snarl was so uncharacteristic of my best friend that I took a step back to put distance between it and me.

  “What? No.” My face tightened into what had to be an ugly expression of confusion and irritation wrapped up into a ball of what-the-fuck. “What the hell is your problem these days, Nate? Any time Ferry’s name comes up, you get all fucking snotty.”

  “I don’t like him, Bastian.” There was Nate’s truth.

  “Why? Are you jealous?” It was callous, and I probably could have worded it with a little more finesse, but I needed to know, or I couldn’t fix shit.

  Nate huffed through his nose as his hands hit his hips. He shook his head as his lips tipped up, but it wasn’t a smile of happiness. “You think I’m jealous? Jesus, do you know me at all?”

  Maybe I’d totally misread things. “Then what is it? Your entire demeanor changes when he’s around. Do you have any idea what he’s done for my career?”

  His right eye twitched at the same time his jaw ticced, burying the anger that threatened to unleash. Nate never lost his temper—ever—and I could tell he struggled to keep this at bay. Crumpling his lips together in stern indignation, he blinked hard, twice, then nodded. “You’re right.” Slowly his head bobbed in agreement, and he chewed on his bottom lip, still trying to keep the sneer from taking over his entire face. “He has certainly furthered your career.” Nate didn’t wait for a response or saying anything else. He shoved a hand into his pocket, reached for the door with the other, and without so much as a glance over his shoulder, he left, slamming the door behind him.

  As I watched Nate hulk down the sidewalk, hands still stuffed into his pockets and his shoulders stiff, it dawned on me. Nate had called the paper. Without his initiative, there would be no Ferry. Yeah, Ferry had helped me, but it was Nate who’d saved my life—something I’d never vocalized or given him due credit for. Nate had never asked for acknowledgment. He’d done it because he loved me, and I’d let him because I needed it.

  Fuck!

  I should have raced after him, but it took my mind longer to process that realization than it had for Nate to get to his car at the curb. He was pulling away when I grabbed my phone to text him. Not surprisingly, my best friend ignored my requests to return. And with his brush off, I stopped staring out the window and returned to my studio.

  I lost myself and the time on Ferry’s pictures, and when I stepped back, I was satisfied with the work. It took me a bit to get myself organized, but before I called it quits for the night, I emailed Ferry pictures of what I’d done. He would be out of town for another day or two, but I figured he’d see the images when he checked his inbox. What I hadn’t expected was to receive a phone call before I’d ever stepped out of the room.

  I swiped right to answer. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  A woman giggled in the background, and I hated to acknowledge it was obvious she wanted Ferry’s attention, although I’d tried to wipe those whispered words from my memory along with his response to get her to give him a few minutes of privacy.

  “I just saw the pictures you sent.”

  “You didn’t have to call. We can talk about them when you get back.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. They’re incredible. Way beyond what I thought you’d be able to do.”

  Getting compliments from Ferry was like a child receiving praise from its parents. My chest swelled with pride. My body warmed with appreciation. “Anything I should add?” I closed my eyes to visualize the images. “I didn’t want to overdo the color and lose the photograph.”

  “No.” His answer closed down my mental visual and opened my eyes. “The depth you added with the three-dimensional color brings the black and white to life. Did you paint over the cracks in the sidewalk with blacks and grays? It’s hard to tell in the picture.”

  “Yeah, not all of them but several to delineate the lines from the streets, highlighting their brokenness. The tone of the pictures is desolate, lonely cities, unattended. I wanted to subtly bring that to the forefront.”

  “Definitely achieved your goal—” The girl managed to distract Ferry again, but this time he didn’t hide his irritation. And she didn’t hide her tears and unhappiness—“I gotta go, man. Women are way more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “No worries.” I wasn’t terribly interested in hearing Ferry’s affairs anyhow. “Let me know when you get back, and I’ll bring them to your studio.”

  “Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

  11

  Chapter Eleven

  Between books I’d picked up at the library and those I’d bought at the bookstore, evidence of my scavenger hunt littered my bedroom and had found its way to my kitchen and living room. I’d tried to keep them out of common areas to prevent anyone else from seeing them and asking questions, but I’d reached a point where I felt like the only way to gain further knowledge about Sera’s lifestyle was to get immersed.

  And the only way I’d found that I might be able to achieve that was
finding an experienced Dom to mentor me, train me—I had to gain experience. I couldn’t just read about it. I needed a practical application. But without asking Sera, I didn’t know how to go about finding someone who fit that bill. There were several clubs in town, but I didn’t know which ones she frequented, and I wasn’t ready to run into her in that scene. I wanted to be able to tell her I’d studied and learned, but I didn’t want to do it until I was beyond my infancy in the endeavor.

  I needed support.

  Backup.

  I needed Nate.

  The phone rang four times before he answered. “What, Bastian?” Obviously, Nate was still miffed about yesterday’s bobble.

  I took a deep breath and let it out on a heavy sigh. “Don’t be mad at me, Nate. Damn.”

  “I’m not mad.” His tone could have fooled me. “I just wonder why I bother.”

  I grinned even though he couldn’t see it. “Because you love me.” I waited for a chuckle or something, but Nate had dug in his heels. “Wanna take me on a date tonight?” Hearing the humor in my voice, he couldn’t stay bitter, although I thought it was funnier than he did.

  “You owe me dinner, bitch.”

  If that were all it took to ease the tension between us, I’d play his game. “Name it.”

  “Fantasia Alley.” Fuck, Nate was beyond pissed.

  “That’s one of the most expensive restaurants in town.” My laughter broke up my words, but he still understood me. “Shit, are you going to order lobster, too?”