It is now April's turn to put me to the test. After the fiasco from the Arms Room, we all agreed that the son of Romeo and Juliet had crossed the line, so, as Castro was urgently summoned for an important matter on the training grounds, April White leads me to the Arts Room: a place specially designed for students who wish to dedicate themselves to painting and sculpture.
The room was big, with three big windows on the wall opposing the entrance, flooding the Arts Room with the warm and golden light of the sun. The floor was smooth and polished, made of a colourful mosaic of white, red, purple and yellow tiles. There were students there who were painting peacefully, working with chalk, wax crayons, coloured pencils or charcoal; each of them had their own easel. Others were sculpting using marble, wood or wax. Some were even posing in different costumes. A sweet melody was floating in the air, as if giving each of the artist's hands wings and inspiration.
"This is one of my favourite rooms here at Novel High," April says showcasing with a broad gesture the chamber. "And it's also one of the busiest departments as well! It works with other departments, such as the music one from the Music Room, to create the most wonderful of things!"
I gaze upon the ceiling. It's decorated with a fresco of monumental proportions, representing thousands of silhouettes. Some of them seem oddly familiar to me.
"Ah, so you really like my mural!"
We are approached by a girl with a beautifully charming face. She is wearing a blue dress perfectly matching her black sandals. Her auburn hair is kept in a messy bun, decorated with a slivery hairpin. Her eyes were murky blue, like water kept in old and forgotten wells. Her smile is really beautiful, but is somehow making me feel uneasy.
"Yes, it looks astonishing," I say trying to escape this weird feeling I am getting.
"Thank you!" The girl replies making a small bow. "I call it Corolla Phanstastica. Now I really putty Michelangelo..."
She chuckles a bit, then continues:
"It was an excruciating work. To stay bent like a Roman archway... Oof! And finding the models to pose for it was no easy task either; some didn't even want to! This is the case for Scrooge, Dracula and..."
Se stops and looks at me and April and begins to laugh. Her demeanour was nice and she was really passionate about her work. April smiles and I did the same, as if the daughter of Snow White told me it was polite to do this.
"Oh, where are my manners?" The girl chuckles. "When I talk about my art, I can go on and on like Scheherazade! My name is Liza Gray, daughter of Dorian Gray."
"My name is Logan, Logan de Chagny."
"Ah, what a beautiful and noble name!" Liza exclamis. "I don't think I have seen you around here."
"Logan is new here," April says. "Me and Castro decided to show him around."
Liza nods slowly. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I look again at the monumental fresco on the ceiling and say as if thinking out loud:
"You really had the honour of meeting everyone's parents?"
"I would quite say honour," Liza replies. "I can only say that work has its perks. Some, as I had previously mentioned, weren't really cooperative. What can I say? Those are the risks of my job and there are all listed down in my job description! If you want, I can show you other works of mine."
Liza points towards a string of canvases hanging from the wall. There are self portraits of her, in various outfits and situations. There are other people depicted as well.
"I am a little more than Frida Kahlo!" She laughs. "I think I have got more than 600 of those. Sometimes, I don't really like the way I look: my wardrobe doesn't satisfy me, I have a bad hair day, etcetera and etcetera... Then this is my only solution and refuge. I can create my own reality, I can create a better place... Ah, this is one of the advantages of being part of the Gray Clan!"
"Wait, Gray... Dorian Gray?" I ask now, realising the situation. "The guy with the portrait?"
"One, you are right," Liza replies. "Two, you have no right to talk about my father like that! And three, well done, April! Your pupil is promising!"
We both said goodbye to Liza Gray and we headed to the door, but I feel someone reaching for my pants. Liza sneakily slips a piece of paper in my back pocket.
"You've got all the details there," she winks as she whispers to me. "Come along! It would be my pleasure to have you there!"
YOU ARE READING
Post scriptum - 1. Act One
General Fiction"And they lived happily ever after..." And what happens next? Well, for Logan de Chagny, the answer is far from fantastic: he has always struggled to live up to his parents' expectations and feels like in his perfect family there is no room for some...
