Lying to him

Lying to him

Blair

I put down my paintbrush and wiped my forehead.

I took a step back and admired my piece from afar, taking a good look at the final product.

I was immensely proud of myself. I was still in awe at what I was able to produce. At first glance, the background of the canvas seemed completely dark, but on further inspection you'd realize you were in fact looking through a glass window and seeing the interior of a dark room. In that room there were three hanging lightbulbs at different distances and of different heights, the orange and yellow light being the focal point of the piece. By using the chiaroscuro technique, the light made minuscule raindrops on the window stand out, creating a very eerie, almost haunting image of a mysterious room.

At last, my first piece for the final assessment was complete.

At Durham's art studio, my friends praised my work, impressed by my realistic approach to such a surreal image. Even though their analysis and interpretation of my dark painting made me smile, what really boosted my ego was their compliments on my technique. If I at least nailed that aspect, I knew I would get a good grade.

At this point in the semester, Professor Agnes was barely around to guide us. She kept herself tucked away in the back of the room, watching us, observing us work. Among students, rumors started flying around that what she was actually doing was grade our demeanor and behavior throughout the creation of our collection and that would secretly be part of the final grade. That was nonsense of course, she just couldn't interfere with our artistic decisions anymore, but deep down I wish she had observed me, taken note of my professionalism and focus. I wanted her to have a good impression of me so when the time came to ask for a letter of recommendation she'd readily write one for me.

Despite her hands-off approach this semester, we were still encouraged to show her our work once it was complete. However, since it was a quarter to seven, she had already left Durham. I desperately wanted to get instant feedback on my work, so the only person I could think of other than her was Felix.

Since the painting was still drying, I took a picture of it and sent it to Felix. I took a few close-ups of the raindrops, of the lightbulbs, of the shadowy objects in the black background. As I took my painting to a special room designated for drying, my phone buzzed.

FELIX: Blair, that's superb.

FELIX: It's mesmerizing.

FELIX: Professor Agnes is going to absolutely love it.

My heart leaped. I smiled like an idiot as I stared at my phone.

BLAIR: You think I'm going to get a good grade? I worked so hard on it.

FELIX: If you make the collection cohesive I have no doubt in my mind you're gonna have one of the highest grades of your year.

FELIX: I'm so proud of you.

As I read those four words, I suddenly felt a tug in my heart. I placed my phone on my chest and bit my lip. This was all I wanted to hear, this was all I needed.

Was he saying this because he knew Reynolds always looked down at my art and never believed in me? Was he saying this because he knew I desperately needed reassurance or because he truly felt it?

BLAIR: Are you really?

His reply didn't come right away. I gazed at the other drying paintings, admired my peers' talent and skill, compared myself to them. These thoughts stopped when his message pinged.

FELIX: I'm so proud of you that I'd send these pictures to Kent De Montmorency and say "isn't it amazing how my boy can paint so much better than you?" if I could.

FELIX: I'm so proud of you that I'd steal that painting and hang it on my wall for everyone to see if I could.

FELIX: I promise I'll be there on Assessment Day so if it doesn't go as planned I'll persuade the assessing panel to take a closer look at the details of your work and see its beauty and mastery.

FELIX: I'll be there with you because I'm so proud of you baby and I want to see you succeed.

Even before I read the last text, I was already sprinting out the door. I knew it was a workday and we weren't supposed to see each other during the week, but I didn't care. I wanted him, and I wanted him now.

I called an Uber and in fifteen minutes I was already by his building's front door. I felt rebellious for being so reckless, for showing up without him knowing, for feeling my insides tighten with desire. Just the thought of his reaction as I jumped into his arms was enough to make me hot.

I rang the doorbell and waited patiently in the cold. After a minute of waiting, I rang again.

"Blair?" He called through the intercom, sounding shocked. My eyes beamed as I stared at the small camera.

"Surprise!" I said, winking. The door buzzed open and I walked inside, happiness overflowing my body. I took the elevator and used the mirror to tame my unruly hair before the mechanical doors opened.

"What are you doing here?!" Felix's voice sounded from his door. I squealed in excitement, dashing out of the elevator knowing he'd be waiting for me with open arms.

I jumped on him and looped my arms around his neck. He grunted as he caught me mid air, his strong arms holding on to my back. I searched for his lips, wanting to make my intentions perfectly clear and as soon as my mouth smacked against his, I was invaded by the strong scent of alcohol.

Sensing something wasn't quite right, I pulled away and looked at him. His eyes were hazy, like he was looking through me and not at me. I dropped my legs to the floor, the rush of passion that I was feeling completely vanishing.

"Were you drinking?" I asked, genuinely puzzled, my stomach sinking. Why was he drinking on a Wednesday afternoon when he had work the next day?

He didn't answer right away, stuttering. "Oh, you know how it is, I enjoy a glass of wine at the end of the day."

I wasn't convinced. One glass was okay, but by the strong scent on him I knew he had drank more than that.

"I didn't know you drank regularly," I stated. "Is everything alright?"

He made me walk inside and closed the door behind us.

He seemed jittery, like he had just done arduous exercise.

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

He seemed so distant. I placed my hand on his cheek and furrowed my eyebrows in concern. As soon as I did that, I felt something wet on my fingertips.

Paint.

I cleared the paint from his cheek slowly, confusion taking over my senses. I looked down at my hand, the tiny amount of dark blue paint smeared on my index finger.

"Felix, what's going on?" I asked in a serious tone.

"What's this?"

"What?" He replied, sounding as confused as me. I showed him my hand and he immediately rubbed off the rest from his cheek. "Oh, how strange. Professor Agnes must have touched my face when I went to see her this afternoon."

What? That made no sense.

"I was in the studio the whole afternoon and I never saw you," I said, looking down at my hand. "Besides, Professor Agnes didn't pick up a single paintbrush today. She wasn't painting..."

He just stared at me in complete silence. There was definitely something going on and I wasn't liking it one bit.

With my anxiety suddenly growing, I continued: "The paint is fresh Felix. Even if Professor Agnes smeared it on you by accident it would've been dry by now."

He turned away from me and walked towards the kitchen sink. I followed him, my stomach tightening as I realized he was lying to me.

"Felix, what's going on? You're lying."

His lie was so obvious I was even wondering why he was trying to deceive me.

He sighed as he filled a glass with water from the tap.

"Fine, I'll tell you, but you can't tell Kent De Montmorency about this alright? He's planning on having one more painting in his collection. I was helping him and we had a few drinks, that's all."

I stood a couple of feet away from him, processing everything he was telling me. This sounded so out of character.

"Are you sure?" I asked, still not believing him.

He looked me in the eyes. "Oh, come on Blair, cut it out. Why would I be lying to you?"

I huffed. "I don't know, you tell me. You have to admit it looks pretty weird that the day I show up unannounced is the day you're in this... State."