While Lisa and Top toured the gallery and discussed the consignment agreement with the gallery owner, Roseanne sat cross-legged, in an artificial grass carpet art installation. A sign stood at the front inviting people to rest from the consumption of art all around them. It occurred to Roseanne how practical that installation was. Merely observing art and listening to Lisa and Top's conversations about it made her realize there was some heaviness in her head and heart. Perhaps it was all the blood, sweat, and tears that were carried by every piece within the confines of the gallery.
Looking at art was something she had not intentionally done before but somehow that night, she understood bits of it that made her appreciate it more. It made her wonder how the artists' minds conjured such images and transformed them into something tangible yet produced the intangible along with them.
In that place, she was not the one being observed, judged, or talked about and she kind of liked it that way, being on the other side. She saw the side of Lisa at work, in her element, which she found extremely striking. The way Lisa's eyebrows creased when she needed more explanations from Top or the gallery owner, the way she stared at the space keenly as if seeing her artworks come alive, and the way she firmly bit her lips in disagreement. Her favorite was the shift of Lisa's serious look to a quick closed-mouth smile whenever she would check on the supermodel.
Just then, Lisa mouthed they were almost finished as she finally signed several papers that sealed the deal. The supermodel caught the nervous smile across Lisa's face and the moment the artist's eyes met hers, she smiled back with pride.
While Top talked privately with the gallery owner, Lisa walked to where Roseanne sat and crouched in front of her. "After almost a year, I'm having a show again. Here."
The blonde could have reached in for a kiss, but she was unsure how they should go about displaying their affection publicly. Especially when someone in Lisa's world was there, and her mind was still hung up at the thought that she was still Lisa's muse for the people in that world despite the painting not happening anymore. Not anymore?
"Lisa, that's great! Congratulations! When is it?" Roseanne eagerly asked. "Do you need a date on the opening day or something?"
Lisa eyed the other woman coyly. "I don't but I'm pretty sure there's a certain someone who would volunteer?"
"Ha-ha, you sound very sure huh?" Roseanne teased back. "They can think I'm just your arm candy."
"What's that?"
Shifting in her seat, Roseanne put her hands together in front of her. It was probably not a good idea to bring up with the way she could already sense Lisa's unawares of the normal things in her world. "Uhm, you know, a companion to someone during social events without being romantically involved with that person."
The artist shook her head. Her furrowed eyebrows thought it silly. "You mean like a trophy display? Why would people need that?"
Clearing her throat, Roseanne explained, "Some people want to appear important and steal attention. Trust me, it can be awkward and lonely when you're alone on the red carpet or photo walls."
"So, you do that?"
The model felt guilty. "Did it a couple of times, yeah. But that was way back."
Lisa was silent, taking in what she learned and falling into deep thinking.
Roseanne felt the tension and for consolation, took Lisa's left hand, interlaced it with hers, and pouted. Mentally, she cringed at herself acting all cute for the artist. "Lisa, I don't do that anymore."
YOU ARE READING
a misty gashed aperture
Fanfiction"The Panorama." Artist Lisa Manoban and global supermodel Roseanne Park's first meeting was far from kismet. It was not fireworks going off but finding the sky clear of any smoke. With a stroke of fate, the artist started dreaming again with a futil...
