My Blood: joshler

Chapter Four: Josh // this man was the weird one

Chapter Four: Third Person POV

Josh:

“Mom, I'm going over to the paint store!”he yelled, not giving her time to reply before he slammed the door behind him, barely catching a muffled, “Make it back safe!”

He felt the warmth seep from him the moment he stepped outside, being welcome with the cold air biting at him. Even though Josh had been covered head to toe with warm clothing, it seemed the winds of London respected no man.

The snow crunched under the weight of his boots, each step that he took. The heavy snow boots slowed his pace because of the weight on his legs but he managed. His gloved hands were in the pockets of his coat,  craving even some bit of warmth. A mist surrounded him due to his breathing.

Josh wasn't going to the paint store for anyone but himself. The University had an art gallery opening soon and since Josh had volunteered to be in the art club, being the newbie and all, he was required to turn one in as well, even when he had the art skills of a dog. . . with no hands.

Why then did he volunteer for the art club? Because it was the only vacant club left and it was compulsory to be in a club. Lots of old students had already been in clubs so the art club was the most vacant which resulted in him rushing there.

The project was due in three weeks but he'd decided to start early as he needed a bit of a headstart. Josh couldn't see the point in trying since it wasn't all the paintings and sculptures that were going to be chosen anyway but apparently, it was important to “participate”.

He sighed again, happy to spot the 12PM train just boarding. He entered amongst the crowd of people and once again made his way over to the back as he always did, settling himself and resting his head. London was a boring place in Josh's opinion because he could never find beauty in the old houses as they jam-packed the streets and little or no amusement or pleasure areas other than the arcade, movie theatre, carnival, park and zoo. His part of London often times reminded him of a dead-end.

However, he was hoping to clear his mind and maybe get an inspiration of what to paint before a voice interrupted him.

“Hey, kid. Kid”it was a weird looking man dressed in black clothes and a beanie. Josh couldn't tell if the brown was the main colour or just dirt.

“Hi?”his brows were raised, and his answer came out as a question because he was nervous. He never talked to anyone on the subway. It was a silent rule every one on the train had agreed on, other than the weird ones.

This man was the weird one.

“Wanna buy a chicken wing?”the weird man in the dirty beanie asked, holding up some soggy chicken wings that had a weird smell.

Josh gagged, “No thanks”shifting a little, and the man never talked to him again, to his relief.

The metallic chime of the train had come to a halt and the mechanical doors opened, causing people to rush out. Josh waited until almost everybody had left until he went on to the cold streets of London again.

He was shoved a bit through the lesser crowd, but he handled it, hands in his pockets and hoodie covered head hanging low as he began his journey to the paint shop called, Colours.

The old push and pull door had a white sign that read open and the small worn out golden bell rung when Josh pushed. It was a Sunday so the place wasn't really crowded, just having people checking out the painting items here and there.

The paint brushes, canvases, easels, water colours, paint buckets and so on were all arranged according to content, just the way the little old man who owned the shop, Mr Greene liked.

The little old man had a hunch back and big bold, black glasses that always slid off his wrinkly face. Regardless, his half yellow, half white teeth were always in a grin, causing crinkles around is dark green eyes indicating he loved what he did.

Mr Greene's shop wasn't painted just one colour, was what Josh loved, it was painted with different colours in no particular order. Swirls of paint here and there that made the shop look beautiful. The counter that led to the back where paint was mixed was white and the rest of the shop had little shelves of books and tables and chairs where you could wait, have a read, until your paint comes out.

It was a beautiful concept.

The chairs and shelves were white.

Josh went over to the counter and hit the small metallic chime, loving how the old man had decided to keep it old school.

A young dark skinned boy with beautiful honey eyes came from the back. He was Mr Greene's grandson, Liam who worked in the shop on weekends. He had a warm, inviting attitude that just made you want to be friends with him and similar to his grandfather, he was also smiling.

“Hello, welcome to Colours, where feelings are painted. What can I get you?”he asked with a warm smile.

Josh and Liam spoke often, whenever he rarely came over to visit but the boy had insisted on greeting every customer with the slogan every time, even Josh, instead of just a, “hey, Josh”

Josh smiled back, “Hey, Liam. I have an art project due in three weeks and I'm in shit because I've got no inspiration whatsoever and I'm bad at painting” he revealed with his usual laugh.

Liam seemed to find it terribly funny, just as he did everything and he laughed really loudly.

“Thank you for telling me your life history, Josh, I appreciate it. But let me see what I can do. How about I offer you a can of sample painting and in my break, I can teach you the swirls of it?”Liam offered kindly, causing Josh to smile.

“Thank you so much, Liam. You're a grade saver. I'll just wait for you, alright?” Josh asked rhetorically.

“Sure” and just as the words left liam's lips the bells above the door chimed signalling a new customer. Josh and Liam's attention turned to the door and Josh's eyes widened.

It was the boy from the train.

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Thoughts? x