The next few days went by painfully slow. I had been spending every waking moment trying to find a place where we could have our new art studio, and I didn't necessarily like walking around the city of Los Angeles, California alone.
About 3,000 out of every 100,000 people had committed crimes, most of which probably included mugging innocent college girls while they walked the streets alone. The violent crimes were severely high here.
Not to mention all of the disgusting catcalls women receive on a daily while men drive by them.
I hate men, sometimes, but then I remind myself that it isn't ALL men, just 99% of women... And that did not usually make me feel better to be alone.
It was getting dark already, granted the time change made it so that it got dark around 5:30 or 6 every night. I hated the dark more than being alone. Being alone, I could handle, but the dark? Crazy and scary things always happened in the dark.
I checked almost every creative arts and recreational building in the city until I slowly walked closer to my very last option, waiting at the last crosswalk quietly. When the light changed and I could go, I felt a dozen people push past me as if they were all in a hurry. Of course, I stumbled at first, but I caught my balance and waited till everyone was gone for me to continue my walk across.
I knew I was kind of short, but did that make me invisible?
I guess so.
Above the double doors was a big sign that read "The Mythical Garden." I liked the sound of that for a building used for creative things like art and crafts.
I hoped they would have something - any room for my friends and I to get back to what we loved doing most. I didn't care what size it was, as long as we could use it whenever we wanted to create our pieces and be free. If they didn't have a space here, I was definitely out of luck, and we would never have a place to call ours again.
I needed this to work out more than anything right now.
As I walked toward the front desk, I noticed that no one was there, and I awkwardly stood close by, tapping my fingers on the desk for a few moments. My eyes quietly searched the area, watching a few people walk back and forth between a few different rooms.
It was honestly magical in here. There were beautiful paintings, huge murals across the walls, and lots of different shaped pottery scattered around on stands everywhere. Musicians were playing soft, slow music in a far corner, making everyone feel at ease here and a few random rooms were off to the back of the huge main lobby area, labeled Studio A, B, and C. I already loved it here. It was so peaceful and relaxing, the music drowning out all of the outside noises of the city.
Oh, please have what I need.
I was never good at asking anyone for help, so even though I watched a few employees pass me by, I never said a word. I only waited about 5 minutes before a familiar face came into view next to the desk and held my attention, "Has anyone helped you, yet?"
It was Ryan. Of all people, it just had to be the one girl that I had been trying to avoid since the day we met.
She set some keys on the counter and looked up at me. She was wearing these cute, black secretary glasses that only magnified her eyes slightly so that they were even more noticeable than they already had been. I couldn't help but look her over for a moment. She was wearing a grey and black Bring Me The Horizon T-shirt with black cut-off shorts and those, what I assumed to be, subtle pride converse. She also had a red and black flannel pulled over her shirt but left it unbuttoned.
Her white/silver hair was down and cascading down her shoulders and back flawlessly. It was slightly messy around the bangs as if she liked to touch them a lot to move them out of her face. Of course, I couldn't help but wonder if her hair was dyed. That color didn't seem too natural, but I wasn't one to pry into a stranger's life.
Finding some courage and keeping my heartrate at a minimum, I finally said, "No, actually."
Then I watched as her eyes watched my own quietly. It took a moment for me to realize that she was waiting for me to say what I needed. I just didn't know she worked here.
"Oh, I was just wondering if one of the studios was available possibly from 2 pm to 6 pm?" I tried to stay calm and not check her out for the 10th time since I had seen her, but that was proving difficult as she grabbed a white binder from behind the desk and set it in front of me.
She walked around and stood directly beside me, opening the binder and flipping through some of the laminated sheets. As she did, the ends of her hair lightly brushed against my arm. I could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo. I pinned it as maybe honey or roses. Those were hard to tell apart sometimes.
Shivers ran up my spine when her arm brushed against mine as she pointed to a page that read, "Studio A, Hours of Operation Daily: 0/24, Available Hours Daily: 24"
I smiled to myself and looked up at Ryan. "Thank y-" My mouth just froze. In fact, my entire body froze when I noticed how freaking close she was to me at this second.
My eyes stayed on her soft smile as I gulped and very slowly took a couple of steps back. "Thanks. I will only need it from 2 to 6 every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Is that cool? How much to rent it for that?"
Ryan shook her head, her eyes staying that concerning neutral look as I had seen the last time we talked. "Free as long as you tell my grandma that you go to the university, and they cut your art class."
She pointed to Studio A and grabbed her keys. Honestly, she seemed like she was about to leave before I asked for her help. I felt kind of bad. She didn't really seem like she wanted to help. In fact, she kind of looked around a few times to see if anyone else wasn't busy, but she still continued to take me to the studio and unlock the door for me to see inside.
For someone whose eyes were so dull and almost lifeless, she was pretty kind, or at least she pretended to be. Naturally, I had to wonder what could have happened to her to make her look at the world with those kind of eyes, but I definitely couldn't blame her. This world sucked when it came down to it. Bad things happen to good people every day.
The studio was honestly perfect. Nice wide open space, a couple of big wooden tables lined up against the far wall, and on the left, there were cabinets and drawers full of all kinds of art supplies.
She led me to an office type room in the back, knocking on the doorframe lightly as she watched the older woman behind the desk. "I have someone here to talk to you about Studio A?"
My eyes watched as Ryan gave a tiny smile and turned to leave me with this woman. Strangers weren't something that I was good with. I mean, starting a conversation was kind of hard, especially something as important as this.
The woman just nodded with a smile, and I hesitantly walked in, taking a seat in one of the chairs that was in front of the desk. "Hi, my name is Artemis Kelley," I began, "Earlier this week, my university had shut down the art studio, and I was wondering if I may use -"
She held up her pointer finger to stop me as she took my appearance in. I had thought it was a bit rude, but then I noticed that she was just trying to figure me out...see if I was a good fit for this place. It felt like an interview all of a sudden. One that I didn't think I was prepared for.
Today, I had my long dark brown/red hair down. The waves in it were luckily not frizzy. That was hard to control sometimes with the dry air outside. I was thanking God that it worked out today.
I kind of felt the need to shrink down in my seat, but I did my best to stay sitting straight up while holding my breath. It's like she was studying me, trying to learn all about me without asking any sort of questions at all. That wouldn't be hard. I was a very easy person to read, honestly.
After what felt like forever, she finally spoke. "Art the artist, huh?" She let out a soft laugh and then nodded, picking up a pen and pulling some paperwork out of a filing cabinet beside her. At first, I wanted to be offended by her joke about my name, but I realized that it was kind of funny, so I laughed as well.
"So Studio A is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I will give you your own keys to the studio itself, and no one else will have a key except for me." She paused to look over me once again, giving me the empathetic look that I sort of grown to hate over this past year, but she made it seem genuine. "Your art will be safe here."
I just nodded slowly along with every word she said to me, smiling to myself. I never thought I would find somewhere, especially not for free. This woman seemed just as kind as her granddaughter, but she had a spark in her eyes. Something Ryan must have lost that day that something happened to her.
I felt relieved that this place existed. I could finally get back to escaping this world with my art. Everyone at the university could. At least I knew that Sophia would be extremely happy that I found somewhere.
While I was leaving, I got out my phone and started texting Sophia about the amazing news, smiling at my screen the entire time. I had almost not noticed that I forgot to grab a key to the studio from the front desk.
When I stopped and turned around, I bumped right into someone and muttered "shit" under my breath. That was until I saw who it was.
That alluring voice pulled my attention once again today. "You forgot this." She held out a silver key on a keyring. When she reached out, her flannel sleeve lightly pulled up her wrist a little, and I could see a couple of thin but slightly deep white scars. She followed my stare with her own eyes and took in a tight breath, putting the key in my hand and quickly turning to then walk off.
Her eyes had darkened the moment she saw where mine were looking. Her face became a little pale as she fixed her sleeve. I found myself missing that little fake smile she always had. At this moment, there was far from a notion of a smile on those pale pink lips. I hated myself for noticing those marks and making her feel like she had something to hide.
Scars like those were pretty common these days. It was nothing to be ashamed of. We all had our own ways of coping with the pain of living in this society.. and this was her way of coping. I had no right to judge that...
And I didn't judge her.
Ryan didn't even look back at me after that encounter. She just hid in one of the back rooms, probably until I left. At least now I knew that whatever this was, whatever made her never want to genuinely smile, messed up her mind more than my problems messed with mine.
THAT was terrifying to even think about.
I hated that my brain just needed to know more.
---
"I found a studio!" I said excitedly to the sulking art students. They had still been sitting outside of the old art studio every day since it closed.
Sophia perked up, smiling and hopping up to hug me. "Oh my God, this is what you were keeping from me last night??" She laughed.
I never did get to send that text about the good news last night. Legitimately bumping into Ryan had made me forget all about sending it. Oops.
I just nodded and smiled innocently. "I wanted everyone to hear about it at the same time. It's at this creative arts place called The Mythical Garden. I want to see everyone there from 2 to 6 tonight."
The other students kind of looked around at each other and then finally stood up with smiles on their faces. Most of them gave me their thank yous and appraises as they started walking off to find something else to do until time to go to the studio in an hour.
I felt good. THIS made me feel good. Helping people was always something I loved to do. For the past year, I just hadn't had the energy or strength to help anyone at all. Sophia understood, but I think I just pushed everyone else in my life away. Sometimes, I thought that Sophia must just be insane to still want to be in my life after everything.
That's what best friends are for, I guess.
Are they really your best friend if you never question their sanity?
As I made my walk to the art studio for the second time this week, for some reason, my mind just couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Ryan may be there again tonight. The thought of that made me nervous but hopeful at the same time.
My Bluetooth earbuds were blasting one of Bring Me The Horizon's albums in my ears as I crossed the final crosswalk to the building. Of course, I was one of the last stragglers to cross since everyone else just shoves me out of the way.
Seriously, was I invisible?
I let myself into the creative arts building and looked around for a brief moment as I walked up to the front desk like before, taking out one earbud. Once again, no one was waiting there, but I didn't mind. My eyes did, of course, scout out Ryan, which made me wonder what days she worked. She was wearing a tighter black polo that had a paint splatter design up one of the sides, a long sleeved black shirt under that, and a pair of cut off shorts that showed off her smooth, toned legs. I could feel heat rising up my neck when I noticed that it probably looked like I had been staring at her ass this entire time.
When her eyes looked in my direction, I remembered how weird our last encounter was. I had seen something that I definitely was not meant to see yesterday. I was a stranger to her. She didn't want to let me see that side of her. I couldn't help but try and think of everything that could make her want to do that to herself, though. Bad home life? Loss? Just straight up mental health problems? I could definitely relate to those, but it wasn't any of my business.
It wasn't until I had been standing there for a good 10 minutes just watching Ryan that I realized I had my own key to the studio and didn't need anyone's help.
I mentally facepalmed for that.
Who knows, maybe I just wanted a reason to see those amazing eyes that I couldn't stop thinking about last night. They seriously were the most beautiful color I had ever seen, and they went with the color of her hair so well. She looked like someone out of a storybook or something, really.
Shaking my head, I finally got back on task and walked over to Studio A, unlocking the door and opening it for myself. The others probably wouldn't be here for another half hour or so, so I just set my bag down and got some easels and canvases set up.
Even though everything in here was labeled, I still found myself struggling to find where everything was. It was probably because I needed glasses and didn't care enough to go get my eyes checked. That could be it.
I rolled my eyes at my thoughts.
There was a light knock on the doorframe behind me, and I slowly turned to see who it was.
"Hey, I was just -" It was Ryan, and of course, she didn't stop saying whatever she was saying... I just had accidentally stopped listening when her eyes were locked on me.
I could feel the anxiety in my chest rise as she took a step closer to me. The fact that she had this effect on me already kind of pissed me off knowing that, with me in the mental state I was in, I shouldn't be anywhere near someone with the same or worse problems.
How bad could it possibly be? She didn't seem like the type to purposefully make my mental state worse. I tried to keep my therapist's advice in my head whenever I thought about her, though.
When I snapped out of my thoughts, she was staring at me with a concerned and confused look in those eyes, her head lightly tilting to the right. "Artemis?"
"Shit, sorry," I laughed it off, taking out my other earbud finally and putting it away, the sound of Avalanche still ringing in my ears. "What were you saying?"
A very tiny smirk played on her lips for a second, and I felt my heart leap up like the last few times we talked. She responded to my idiotic question, though. "Grams just wanted me to check in. Make sure you had everything you needed."
I took a look around and shrugged slightly. "I was wondering if painting the walls was allowed? In my old place-"
Ryan interrupted with a quick nod, and I was glad to hear the next words come out of her mouth, "She was hoping you'd paint something beautiful in here."
I had nothing to do for the next 15 minutes or so until everyone else arrived, so I wondered if Ryan really wanted to get back to work, or if she rather talk for a minute or maybe I could make up something that I needed just so I could see her for a little longer. She lingered close by after that but didn't stay in the doorway, doing other things like straightening up the supplies in the main room.
I didn't really care. I just went back to setting up all of the supplies on one of the tables, organizing all of the paints by shades of color. Then I thought that maybe I should have pulled the tables away from the walls before doing any of this. We can't exactly paint them if there are tables here.
Taking a breath, I try my hardest to pull out one of the solid wood tables. My black vans slid on the slick tile floor beneath me whenever I pulled too hard, but the most I got the table to move was maybe an inch, if that. Solid wood tables were insanely heavy, apparently. Or maybe I was just weak. That was a very real possibility. I kind of was.
It wasn't long before I heard a sweet melody of someone's soft giggle right behind me and saw familiar tan hands grabbing onto the table. She effortlessly pulled the table a few feet back away from the wall, creating plenty of space to paint whatever we were going to paint.
That was to be decided when the others arrived.
I watch as the muscles in Ryan's arms contract and tighten under those sleeves. It was hard to look away from her. For a girl, she sure had a lot of muscle... Everywhere... But she still looked very feminine. She was so gorgeous, but you'd never catch me actually telling her that. I think I would have a heart attack if I complimented her out loud.
Ryan continued to pull out each table away from the walls as I watched her. She didn't seem to mind. I mean, it hardly even looked like she noticed me staring at all, or at least she didn't react to it, which I was kind of grateful for.
Sophia was the first to walk in with all of the others, smiling brightly as she ran up and hugged me tight. "This is perfect! Everyone is going to love this!"
And with that, Ryan gave me a very slight, almost invisible smile as she nodded and started to leave, but waited at the doorway when she heard me speak.
"Alright." I sat everyone down in the center of the room and gestured around. "What do we want these walls to say?"
Everyone whispered and murmured among themselves, a few laughs coming from them as they attempted to brainstorm ideas with each other. I wasn't sure where to begin either. Painting a whole four wall mural was a lot. There were so many thoughts and ideas that had to go into it to make it flow perfectly together.
Then I heard it. It was quite possibly the best question I had ever heard someone ask about a mural before.
"Why should the walls say anything when they can scream?" Ryan said. Her dull eyes were locked on mine, but if I wasn't mistaken, I could have sworn that I saw a spark flash through her gaze. I just couldn't look away as a big smile slowly spread across my face.
She was right. These walls needed to scream. They needed to paint a beautiful story, but that still left the question...
What story?
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