Summer Haze [BL]

Chapter 9 - Mad Artist

𝘉𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦.

Winter Lawrence's name rose to fame through the incident at his father's own museum.

Although the Mad Artist already had a large number of commissioners and admirers before, the character he constructed for himself instilled both immense terror and interest in the public audience.

He was the artist who burned his own portrait.

It was a scene that was still burned into everyone's memory, even in those who were not present.

The artist stood in front of the portrait; it was an oil painting. Painted with such interesting technique, artistry, and beautiful composition, it truly deserved praise from all critics.

Suddenly, like a string that was cut, something snapped within him. He grabbed a tank of oil and poured it over his painting.

It might have been out of spite or hatred for his artwork, but who would ever do such an obnoxious action? He lit a lighter and threw it into the river of oil.

And at that moment, his portrait of an unknown boy had lit into a sea of flames.

Scintillating red and yellow bands of scalding heat intertwined, slowly devouring the entire canvas with its sparks and embers.

The public audience began screaming from shock, and they immediately scattered like fish in a river after a rock was thrown in, leaving nothing but the stone to sink alone.

The Mad Artist stood before the bright-lit portrait, watching the flames dance like ghosts mourning his death.

Not only did the fire consume the canvas, but it consumed others with fear. Some received this act as performance art, while others were terrified and fled the scene. Smoke rose to the ceiling, and the flames spread rapidly across the floor, following the oil trail.

The scent of leather being tanned over a flame reached everyone's noses, forcing them to recoil in disgust, but most could not take their eyes off the scene presented before them.

The Mad Artist had kept a straight face the entire time. He did not smile. He did not frown. He simply stared at his own burning face that became nothing but ash.

Thus, the incidence of the Lawrence Museum erupted.

There was little to say about how successful his career was. After winning countless awards over the years while only being in his mid-twenties, it was guaranteed his fame would also rise that he had gained a high reputation abroad too. Yet, no one knew why he decided to ruin his pleasant reputation so suddenly.

The Mad Artist was too peculiar and vague for the media to pinpoint his character. He disliked being filmed and photographed, but he was extremely active on social media. He disliked interviews, yet he loved provoking interviewers. He disliked being the center of attention, yet not at the same time.

He enjoyed attracting attention. He enjoyed creating riots. He also got bored of these riots extremely quickly. He didn't care about the status of his commissioners. If he felt like painting, he would paint. If he didn't, then he didn't.

Sometimes, he even gave out his paintings for free if he felt like it. He was both a simple and a complex man. He refused and accepted many domestic and international invitations to exhibitions and talks; but according to the media, he also indulged in debauchery, especially sexual pleasantries.

The media stated he was rather promiscuous and that he has probably slept with more women than his age.

There was one year when his name had become plastered in newsletters after the public had discovered a minister's wife's affair where she had cheated on him with the Mad Artist.

Unsurprisingly, when interviewed, the Mad Artist had already forgotten her face and name. He had no idea who she was.

Then, the minister's wife went crazy and lost her mind. She claimed they were both truly in love with each other and even divorced the minister to chase after the artist who she claimed as her "true love".

After being consumed by her sorrows, loss of status, respect, and familial disappointment, she committed suicide. In fact, many people have ended up travelling the wrong path because of the Mad Artist, but all he had to say when reporters came to him was: "Which one was that?"

Due to his infamous actions, the director's reputation plummeted. In the first few incidents, the director covered it up with his money.

However, after the debauchery rumour erupted again, followed by the Lawrence Museum incident, the media had gotten out of hand that it was beyond the director's control.

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"Do you get it now? The director sent him here to appeal to the public while also using this as an excuse to suspend all of the Mad Artist's activities!" Mr. Haydon exclaimed.

He continued scrolling through different articles and forums about Winter with fingertips trembling intensely. If the reports were correct, Winter burnt his painting around one and a half years ago, meaning he had been suspended from all art activities.

"What has he been doing during the time after he burnt his painting?"

"You mean lit the entire floor on fire? Some articles said he was now doing charity work, but he was slowly easing back into the art industry. Many supporters were demanding Winter Lawrence to come back. I just don't understand their minds, but we common people can't get on Winter Lawrence's bad side."

He continued, "Who knows what will happen to us if we do, so make sure not to provoke him, alright? Now, what are you doing? Hurry and find him before he burns...burns the library or some other building! If you want more information about him, you can search for more scandals revolving around him. I'm sure it's endless. I should head back to the office now. My head hurts..."

"Mr. Haydon. Thank you."

His brows knitted. "What for?"

"For taking up your time to tell me about this," I smiled.

Mr. Haydon frowned and nodded slowly. Without warning, he smacked my back which shocked me that my heart almost stopped beating.

"Why are you still standing around for? Hurry and go find him, or the deputy will lecture you again."

The information regarding Winter was a lot to take in. Even though I knew there was something strange about him, I didn't expect all of that.