I adjust my dark sunshade the minute the plane lands and proceeds to get out of it. I watch the movement of the people in Los Angeles international airport through the thick lens and sure not much seem to have changed. I head towards the baggage claim to get my luggages then head out of the airport.
" Where to, young Sir?." The Driver asked, dressed in his Black and White uniform.
" San Diego." I respond and watch him take my luggage into the back of the car then get in.
" 2 hours 23 minutes, young sir." He informs after inputing the information on it and turning on the ride.
All I do is nod in response, uninterested in saying anything more or less. I take off my shade and look out the window, watching the people going on with their day.
Home sweet home.
I mutter inside and sigh then put my shade back on.
The journey is a quiet one, no one said a word to another. I watch the car park in front of the apartment I had rented and get down, picking my luggage from the back. I pay and watch him drive off before turning around to access the place. It is late already, the night get closer with the moon sitting beautifully in the sky, it's bright lights paving way to those underneath her.
I push my key into the lock and turn it then push it open, stepping in.
I guess this is the part where I get so happy to be here after so many years but instead I feel this sudden emptiness inside of me. Maybe it's because of how plain the whole house looks.
I put down my luggages and head straight into my art room, that one place that felt like paradise to me. I run my fingers over the wooden drawing board as my eyes trail over the graphite pencils, pen and ink, the various types of paints, inked brushes colored pencils, crayons, charcoal, chalk, pastels, erasers, markers, styluses and metal.
I settle on the wooden chair, trying to put out this emotions into art, picking up the pencil.
Grrrrr!.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I immediately drop the pencil to pull it out. I stare at the screen for a second then slide the green button to the side.
" Hi Yule." I greet and wait for the crack on the other phone before his voice comes clear.
" Hi Tony." He greets softly. " You home already?." He asks.
" Hmm hmm." I hum in response. I wouldn't call this little apartment my home because it didn't feel like one but I am not in the mood to argue with my best friend.
" How do you like the place?." He ask curiously.
" It's good. I like it." I reply briefly.
" Hmm. That's nice to hear." He responds. " And your arts?." He questions.
" Yea. Brought them with me. I am to go check out a couple of art gallery while here. Umm, have some places in mind already." I inform.
" That's good." He replies and there is immediately an awkward brief silence before he speaks again. " We sold your work. People like it and Mr. Greg thinks you should try another one out when you get back." He adds.
" Hmm. Okay." I respond.
" Yea Tony." He replies. " Humm, about the exhibition?." He adds.
" Yes, will be right on time for that." I respond.
" Okay." He replies.
" Okay." I say too.
" Umm I have to go now okay. Lily needs me in the room. Baby Mia and Tia are awake and they are really screaming on top of their little voices. I never really bargained for this, I am just so stressed." He complains and sighs shakily.
" You will be fine Yule." I say and add " Send my greetings to Lily okay." before dropping the call.
Maybe I am jealous. Jealous that my best friend gets this dreamy love life while I waste away.
It isn't my fault that I am yet to have a girlfriend talk more of a wife or kids. Maybe I crave for them but I doubt that I can ever handle such. For a soul like mine that believes not in love, getting married might be hard.
I have had sexual relationships with different women of different classes you see but never did I let any of it get so serious. I even get to draw some of them in their true nature, naked and filled with desire, dark lustful desires. I have a book for that, something to keep me company when my lonely thoughts creep in.
I sight the missed call as I am about to put the phone back into my pocket and click on it to see who it is.
Tiara.
I mutter under my breathe and put the phone where it belongs.
She is the last person that I want to talk to now.
For the record, Tiara is my recent sex partner. I had met her at a club and we had ended up in bed together then a couple more times. She had complained of her husband being so busy and a work addict that she needed someone to make her feel loved and It was all fun and good till she wanted more, something I could never give.
Not to a woman with a marriage of ten years with two kids.
However she was ready to throw everything away just to be with me. So she says.
I couldn't let that happen, not because I care but because I know deep down that I want someone new, something different.
I shove her thoughts aside the minute my stomach rumbles to remind me of its existence.
I remember that I am yet to eat something good so I head for the kitchen. I search the cabinets and find nothing but raw foods, foods that I have to stress myself to cook.
Mind you, I don't hate cooking because I see it as a work of art but cooking right now, in this state of hunger is complete suicide plus I can feel my bones about to give out from the exhaustion of the long journey.
I think and pick up an apple, shoving it into my mouth and down my throat as my teeth dig into it, chewing it and squeezing out its sweet juicy water. I had ask the housekeeper to stock my place with food to last me for a while. She is to come twice every month to clean up the house and she gets paid monthly as well.
I pick up another red apple before walking out of the kitchen, heading straight for my room.
This should hold me till tomorrow, till I have to go out there and get something to eat.