Vincent sat down in front of Solanne the moment he finished preparing, and after, he put the pot into the oven and let it sit there for a good 2 hours to let the meat cook and be tender.
Of course, at the same time, Vincent also refilled Solanne's coffee. "Where should I start?" He smiled; his eyes seemed to have glinted mysteriously. Through his actions, Solanne became more curious about what kind of life he lived.
"Should I start back in my college days?" He muttered; he shifted his gaze to Solanne. "I was an alcoholic before. I am addicted to loud music and get hangovers every weekend. Still, I love what my degree was. Do you believe that I pursue my passion in painting?"
Solanne widens her eyes. Suddenly, her heart was filled with admiration and respect for the guy before him.
"Really?" Solanne can't hide her excitement. Her curiosity was getting the best of her.
Vincent nodded. "Yes. However, my parents had persistently wanted me to pursue any courses in science, math, or just things that might actually "be useful," just as they said. But I was passionate about what I was doing. I love getting lost in my work. I love the smudge of pain on my clothes whenever I am lost in my own thoughts and work. I love the smell of pain and even the thought of making art."
Solanne takes a sip of her coffee. The ambiance was making her comfortable, and Vincent's voice, for some reason, was soothing enough.
"I have my fears, though. Every night, I would ask myself if I could ever really earn money from what I was doing or if I could support the kind of life I wanted. Every person I come across asks me what my future would be like if I continued. That I won't earn enough money for myself."
"I laugh it off. I was stubborn. I was even frustrated that the people around me could only think about money! Money! Money!"
"I feel so young that I can feel that everything, even the most impossible, was possible. I just need one stroke of luck. I just need to get lucky enough."
"After graduation, I found a decent apartment because I no longer wanted to live with my parents. Every day, I would hear them what kind of failure I had become. I wasted all the medals, trophies, and prizes I won in high school. I was in my mid-twenties when I told myself that I wouldn't rely on my parents anymore."
"However, I realized that no company would actually hire you if you finished a degree related to arts. That was a slap to me. A reality check. Still I continued to look for a job."
"I work at a convenience store. And you know what I realized?" Vincent looked at Solanne. He was smiling as if he was remembering his fondest memories. The memories he had deep inside his heart, and he can't wait to share them.
Solanne tilted her head. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"People look down on you because you work there. They see you as someone easy to replace and someone who doesn't have a degree. They assume all the worst things just because you sell milk, noodles, shampoos, snacks, and candies at a convenience store."
"My pride was crushed to the ground. My stubbornness was nowhere to be found. I learned to humble myself. To settle. To think and face the fact that I'm just there that I am below everyone else because that was my work."
"My salary was enough for me to live for a week. I learned budgeting, and I learned the feeling of loneliness. My friends were all successful. I was nowhere near that level. I resented myself. I hated myself. I regret my stubbornness, my ego, and all I have done, only to end up working at a convenience store."
"I loath myself to the point that painting wasn't good enough. It even became one of the reasons I hated myself and wasn't fulfilling enough for me anymore."
"And then, I realized another thing.."
Solanne swallowed. She doesn't know how to react to Vincent's stories yet; she stays there, willing to listen. "It's much more painful to look at an empty canvas. I laughed so much when I realized that. I laughed and laughed until I cried, all again; the hatred I was feeling was directed at me. Only me. I was at my lowest. It hurts. It's much more painful to just stare and ignore everything I love doing. And yet, I was even more afraid to pursue it. Afraid of the future. Afraid of all the things I could be and afraid of all my future failures."
"It was all because of the unknown. The uncertainty. My monologues of 'I don't know.' 'How will I even do it' or 'is there any point?'"
"I was paralyzed. Well, figuratively, "Vincent chuckled as if he was just a middle-aged man telling a joke to his niece. "I was afraid to walk. I almost went to jail,"
"Really?!" Solanne exclaimed. She never really thought about it. Especially now.
Vincent winked at her. "Really."
"That thought went on for years. I still am working at the same convenience store. I was already closed with the owner. I also owned a cat. It was my first cat. It was a brown tabby. Just like Laurie in your cabin. I don't know how to take care of a cat, but that little guy just found himself in front of my apartment in the middle of the storm, and I took pity on him."
"I was looking for people to adopt him, you know. I don't know how to care for a cat or have the financial means to do it. But that cat," Vincent smiled softly.
"Was my miracle."
"Miracle?" Solanne repeated. Vincent nodded. His eyes glistened.
"I can't drive him away. He was dependent on me. He waits for me when I get home. Purrs when we're on the bed, play as if nothing in the world matters. They're so independent yet dependent on their human."
"Suddenly, going home was bearable. No, I looked forward to it. Working was suddenly fun because I can get to spoil him. And whenever someone talks to me, I often find time to squeeze the topic of my cat." Vincent laughed. "Mr. Brown was my first cat."
"Where is Mr. Brown now?" Solanne asked.
"Upstairs. Sleeping. He's a senior cat, after all."
"Eh?"
Vincent raised his brow. He stared at Solanne. "You assumed he's dead!?" He muttered; he didn't know how to react. Solanne's face turned red in an instant. She was so embarrassed.
"You talk as if it was dead!" Solanne said defensively.
Vincent laughed even more. "Well, my bad," Vincent took out his phone and scrolled through his gallery. He then showed his phone screen to Solanne. "That's him."
Solanne smiled. She saw a picture of a brown tabby cat, a fat one, sleeping with his belly open and enjoying the sun.
"I feel like I should also get a cat." She considered this, especially how peaceful she felt when she saw the two cats, Laurie and Orin, in the cabin.
Vincent winked. "You should. Moving on, that cat lightens something inside of me. My days became bearable, and I started to even paint. I don't know what happened. It just…happened.
"I casually told the convenience store owner of my paintings. Do you know what he did?"
Solanne shook her head. "He rearranged the whole convenience store and put some of my paintings there. He said that I could display my paintings there, and if someone were to buy them, all the profit would be put in my pocket."
"Of course, I refused it at first. But he was a stubborn old man. He said it's the least he could do for my service. Then, after that, my days went like this: I painted, spent time with my cat, went to my job, and displayed my work."
"That went on for months. Then suddenly, I felt it, I wasn't pressured anymore. Well there was still times but I learned to ignore them. I loved what I was doing and realized that it was okay to be where I was now. And the even crazier part was that many people came to our store to see my paintings. It's a bit out of place, yet they were amazed by it."
A paused.
There was silence.
And Solanne was anticipating Vincent's next words.
"Then, I made my first sale. November 16, 2011: That was the happiest I have been in my entire life. See, I even remember the date."
"I haven't really resolved my fears to be honest. I still have some insecurity. However, I have learned that fear is like a turning point that happens several times in your life. Because once you recognize your fear, you only have two options: stay and be swallowed or move forward. Fear makes us choose."
"Then again, I just need to be contented for my life to improve," Vincent softly smiled at her. "I just need to be present. To slowly dissect all of my fears and figure out how to solve them individually. Though I know that it's not easy. It will never be easy. That's why I viewed people overcoming their fears as heroes. They overcome the inevitable."
"And throughout my journey, my paintings reflected that."
"My paintings revolve around nature, human emotions, and everyday life. Something mundane. Something that takes you back."
"Still, even though I am grounded like this, or very peaceful, as you have seen, I still have my own struggles and inner demons. I'm just taking one step a day. Just one step."
As soon as Vincent finished his words, Solanne stared at her cold coffee. Her eyes seemed distant. She tried to smile.
"Do you still paint? Do you still have your artwork?"
"I have them upstairs. Would you like to see them later?"
"Yes."
As they talked, Solanne heard a sound coming from the outside. Her eyes softened when she saw the rain pouring from the sky. She paused for a moment; the water looked like a blessing from the heavens after a hot sunny day.
"You love the rain, don't you," Vincent uttered, grabbing Solanne's attention. Solanne nodded.
Vincent smiled as he stood up to check the food.
At the same time, Yael was done with his bath, and as he walked downstairs, he saw them, Vincent and Solanne, casually talking, and they seemed to be talking about deep things on how serious they were.
For some reason, Yael felt like a child.
A child who was supposed to sit at a different table and a child who doesn't understand. A child who was left out.
He swallowed. His heart was beating faster.
He doesn't like it.
Any of what he was thinking.
Then suddenly, "Yael!" Solanne called; she was smiling. "Have a seat!" She pulled the chair.
--