Half of a Love Story

10. ALEXIS

You are totally unaware of the effect you have on me

3RD MARCH 2013

The paintbrush stroked the canvas, so soft and delicate, the way a man would caress his lover. Gentler, even. Definitely far more passionate.

I stood in my studio for what felt like a few fleeting minutes but in reality, was more than three hours. The brush stroked his hair, darkening it, adding dimension that most people would probably never notice. This was the third consecutive day now that I was working on his hair, adding darker patches here and there, taking pregnant pauses to take a step back and survey the situation.

This was my baby, my masterpiece. This would be the one painting that I would never sell, not even for all the money in the world.

I had spent years working on this painting now, working on it whenever I felt the need. Sometimes, I could go weeks, or even months without even looking at it while other times, times like recent times, I had to see it every day.

It was messed up, I knew that, and most definitely not everyone would understand, but having a painting of him in my studio which I had spent years perfecting felt natural to me; almost second nature now. If ever any pigment faded then I would go over it, if I noticed something different about him, I would make that change on the canvas. I didn't really paint much on it anymore, more so just caressed it with my brush and make tiny details here and there but it wasn't finished just yet.

I didn't know what was missing, but I knew that it wasn't done.

Being a painter was difficult, and being an artist in New York was even more difficult. This was my full-time job, not that I would change anything about it. It was just that my income fluctuated so it was a good thing that I was good with my money and saved a lot of it in times where I needed it. Despite my father being able to financially support me with his successful business, I wanted to make a name for myself and painting was the way I would go about it.

The past couple of weeks had been good to me. I had held three art galleries in the past three weeks to showcase my work, and all but two pieces of my work had been sold. Though I was sure that they would soon be snatched up too. That meant that money was flowing in at the moment, allowing me time and the right state of mind to work on some more of my paintings, especially since a wealthy business man had requested me to

I guess have a rich and successful father did have some perks, especially regarding the right kind of clientele. I was immensely grateful to my father and he knew that. He had done the job of both a mother and father, raising me all on his own.

Speaking on my father, I hadn't seen him in a few days. I made a mental note to call him tonight to arrange something.

As much as I loved my studio and spending my time working on my art pieces, even the best artists – not that I was calling myself one of the greats – needed a break.

As great as it had been to immerse myself into my art work, I needed to come up from this bubble and breathe. But I feared the real reason that I had buried myself in work these past few days. That had been my ulterior motive, despite how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.

Caylus and Taylor had been dating for over a month now and as much as I wanted my best friend to be happy, I wished he could be happy with me. But alas, I was not one for fairy tales or distorted realities.

Them being together all the time and me being helplessly in love with him, made things very difficult. For me, not them.

Taylor was always around the apartment and Caylus and her were always doing things together, be it a romantic dinner or a movie night in.