Incandescent | H.S

Part Forty-Three: Canvases & Chaotic Clouds

"I was in Malibu when I painted this. It's what inspired this entire collection. I'd just finished a portrait of an ex-lover and... I hated it. Even though at the time, we were still together. And I realized that I felt too caged in. Both with her and with my art style. That's what makes tonight so special. I'm sharing with you the moment that I decided to step away from what I knew and veer down a different path and not box myself into one type of artistry. This painting is where it started, and all of the others are what followed."

You stood off to the side with a grin that hurt your cheeks. The guests, all crowded around, erupted in applause.

"Enough from me. Enjoy the art, come to me if you have any questions. And thank you all for coming out tonight."

Max bowed a little and then approached you, doing a little spin and demanding feedback on his little speech. He hated public speaking and had been dreading this part for the months leading up to it. You were at Max Thompson's art show, viewing how it was panning out and so far, so good. You knew Max was in awe of your dedication to his needs.

"You did amazing." You offered kindly and he clicked his tongue, looking around at the gallery.

"I don't think anyone has ever captured my vision as well as you have."

It warmed your heart to hear, the crisp champagne in the flute you held only made you feel more bubbly. Max clinked your glasses together and took a sip, his eyes watching you over the glass.

"I'm happy I could be a part of it and show off your amazing talent."

"This," He gestured around the venue in awe. "is talent. Seriously, I can't thank you enough."

"You're the brains behind it all. I just put your ideas into a reality."

You dipped your head as your cheeks flushed at the praise. The event was finally here. The buildup, the waiting, the hard work. It had all paid off.

Because of the dynasty he was a part of, you both saw it all too fitting to house this event in one of his parent's galleries. One of the first they'd opened in their younger years when their talents were making them famous.

There had been moments during your meetings with him that he thought he was asking for too much. That maybe he was asking for the impossible. Maybe a certain shade in lighting would be too costly or having each piece centered and displayed in their own unique way too demanding.

But every time, you shrugged and smiled like it was hardly a chore and promised you'd make sure it was done exactly how he'd wanted it.

And as he looked around at his highly anticipated collection debut, he knew he'd been right in choosing you to make his dreams a reality.

"Where's the boyfriend tonight? He couldn't make it?"

Max had been adamant that Harry attend the event with you. And while you protested at first, not wanting to impose, he assured you it wasn't even a slight imposition. He cared for you and wanted you to have just as great of a night as he would. That included your other half being at your side.

"Oh, he's just finishing up some work stuff. He should be here soon." You took another sip of champagne. Harry was happy to join you, but had been stuck in the studio all day and knew that his album had to be his priority.

"There they are, the stars of the night." Max's parents approached you. You greeted them with soft hugs and large smiles.

"Isn't she amazing?" Max doted over you.

"It's all you." You insisted bashfully.

Soft orange lighting encased the gallery like a warm, citrus sunset. The music played softly and set the tone for the underlying notes of the art in the room. It was fiery, yet soft. Exciting and electric. It caused a twinge at something in Harry as he stepped inside, greeting guests and grabbing a flute of bubbles from a waiter with a thank you.