His Muse

I swear he's real & his name isn't Ken

Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.

Nic: Have you ever seen someone so beautiful that you actually teared up a little?
I mean, like, just a little bit.

Sav: We've been over this. I can't relate to your level of thirst, man.

Nic: Whatever. Just trust me on this. It happened.

The studious Savannah Kelly went on to explain the obvious: Of course Nic wouldn't see this devastatingly, tragic, beautiful man ever again. Those were just the consequences of going to a huge-ass school that was basically a mini city. It was it's own city. Which meant... Nic could walk by the same spot every day for an entire week and never run into that guy again. He itched to take a picture, but he couldn't get his phone out fast enough before they were beyond the point of crossing paths.

Nic was in such a daze he stumbled on his shoes and tripped into a girl passing by. Though, he had a nice conversation with her while they kicked aside the fallen ice cubes from her Starbucks drink and planned on getting together later that week for a coffee.

He couldn't seem to concentrate on that either.

What the hell is wrong with me? he thought as he dragged his hands through his hair before plotting to memorize the date and time the girl wrote onto his hand.

Writing, he mused, instantly perking up. Pen, I need a pen—

He scrambled through his bag as the class started. He flipped to a fresh page on his notebook and started to scribble down information in the form of lines, scratch-marks, and anything that could possibly resemble the face that did this to him. How could he ever go on without another look into those soulful—albeit, distracted—eyes? There was a certain aloofness about this character Nic began to conjure up. The kind that suggested No, of course he wouldn't look at the camera. Or, Yes, that was the color of his headphones. He probably listens to rock, but, like, older, out-of-style rock. He made a mental note to force Sav to help him create a playlist for this bizarre, angelic creature so Nic could draw all of the portraits of him to this music.

He hadn't realized it until everyone started packing up that he literally spent the entire class drawing. Well, it's not the first time, he thought to himself as he was about to close his notebook.

"Holy hell, that's so fucking good," someone spoke up beside him.

Nic jumped a little, startled by the compliment. He looked up at the guy now lingering over his desk to get a look at Nic's portrait. "May I?" the guy asked, and Nic shrugged, sliding the notebook over.

It suddenly occurred to Nic that flaunting around a semi-realistic drawing of a stranger he saw in passing probably wasn't the best idea. That was evident the second the guy said, "I'm not much of a drawer myself, but this is fucking good. It kinda looks like this one guy I know."

"Really?" Nic perked up, hastily scrambling out of his seat to look at the portrait again to make sure they were thinking about the same guy. "How would you describe him?"

"I dunno. Kinda broody, quiet. Doesn't talk much unless he's prodded, ya know? I mean, I just met him this week but... labs, ya know. Gotta talk to your lab partner and stuff. Kind of a course requirement," the guy said with a laugh, handing the notebook back so Nic could put it away. "Sorry, forgot to introduce myself. Milo."