When I got back to my room, I dropped my bag by the door and walked over towards the section of my suite that I had converted to an art studio. I took out one of the five canvases Yahiko had ordered, sat down for a whole two seconds and started my Spotify metal soundtrack. Hearing the beats and heavy rifts of the guitar only made my heart race. I became lost in a trance, my hand grasping onto a paintbrush, dipping into a jar of black, and letting my mind take me away from the hell I was currently living day in and day out.
Sometimes I wish I could turn back time. I'm unsure if these feelings have ever been expressed or felt by anyone else before, but I honestly thought for a very long time that if I continued to hope for a better future that things would finally change. Yet...the mind plays stupid tricks on you all the time.
I had hoped to see him again every day. I even thought about the things I would say to him. How I would tell him I still love him and how I still paint our initials on my canvases. How I continue to think that one day we'll be holding each other in our small one-bedroom apartment and be lost in each other's heartbeats. The tears that fell from my eyes never stopped yearning for those moments...and my thoughts always wondered where it all went wrong.
You see...I had won a lot of art contests in high school, some of them raised questions about my home life, but most greats in the field of imagination hide something tragic. But, my senior year, showcasing my final art project at the downtown Museum of Art, is where I met him: my first love. He was older than me, looked to be about twenty-one. He wore a very nice suit and looked like he came from money. His hair was shaved on the sides and fell down over his eyes. I felt like he was too handsome to be human...and all I could do was stare: wondering why a guy like that would be looking at my painting for so long. Hell, I wasn't even into guys, and he was attractive enough to emasculate me.
---------------------------------------------
It was then when I saw him ask my teacher about my piece, and to my surprise, even fear, she pointed straight at me. When our eyes met, I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. His eyes were yellow...almost too bright that it was astonishing. It almost felt like I was being sucked into his gaze.
"Niko, this gentleman has a question for you!"
I didn't say anything. Instead, I walked over to him as he smiled. Such an innocent thing made a shiver run down my spine. I don't know who he was...but there was something about him. Something...dangerous in those eyes. Eventually, I had to look away.
"So, you're the artist?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Hmm," he mused, holding his hand under his chin and staring back at my artwork, "what do you call it?"
"The wandering soul," shit...he got me started, "it's about a boy who can't escape his life and is trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Or at least, that's what I intended for people to see...or feel."
I felt his eyes on me then, but I didn't want to return his gaze.
"I like it. It's chilling and real, even more surprising that a high-schooler made it."
My eyes connected with his then, those viper-like eyes suffocating me. "My boss would like to buy it, but he's only up for paying cash to the artist himself."
I confusingly looked as he took out a business card and handed it over to me. It was all black with "Takoma" engraved in gold on the front. On the back was an address and a number. It was rather foreboding."
"B...buy it?" I finally mustered, returning my gaze to the man.
"Yes, oh sorry. The price," he smiled, "would $20,000 do?"
I almost dropped the card from his response. Twen...twenty thousand dollars?! For what? A doodle? Was this a trick? The most I've gotten for my art was $200 and that was for charity!
"Uh...I think you made a mistake and said―"
"$20,000 too low? I can bump it―"
"No!" I blushed, literally thinking this guy was out of his mind.
He chuckled at my response. Just watching him laugh made my heartbeat more and my blushing intensify.
"Why...why would you pay that much for this?"
I honestly had to know, but the man got uncomfortably close to me and whispered in my ear.
"My boss and I don't pay for anything that isn't worth full price. Don't sell yourself short, Niko."
He pulled away then, "You're a great artist and you're bound to go places."
I was shocked, knowing the red never left my face. Me? A great artist...for some reason it meant something coming from him.
The man turned to leave, waving goodbye. "Come by tomorrow, with the painting, and we'll finalize the deal. A little birdy told me you're trying to attend Tokyo University of Arts. So, think of this as scholarship."
"Wa...wait, what's your name?!"
He turned to me once more, smirking. "Ray...Ray Tacoma."