Page 14 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

I headed back to my penthouse and went into my home theater room. The screen was wider than most people’s living room walls, and I had both traditional projectors and more modern equipment.

I fingered my celluloid copy of El Santo Vs. The Vampire Women. It was the ideal dub, in English but with the original character names and dialogue largely preserved.

I couldn’t wait to show it to Megan.

I went into my living room and sat there, basking in the glow of my date with Megan. She had everything I wanted in a woman, and so much more I never even thought to ask for. Feisty, fierce, feminine… the triple F class girlfriend, rarer than sunlight at the bottom of the ocean.

And she wanted to see me again.

My phone dinged with an incoming message. I frowned and glanced at the screen. I’d received a text from Jon.

I heard you were trying to find a portrait. Have you considered using Jack? She’s not cheap but she does get the job done, if you’re willing to be patient.

I grinned.I’m willing to try anything at this point. Thanks, bro.

I leaned back on my sofa and stared at the ceiling. If I could just keep spending time with Megan, and find that painting, then my life would be perfect.

If.

Chapter Seven

Megan

The date I’d had with Mason was like jet fuel. I never found it so easy to work before, even on things I didn’t like to do. Like paying work.

The problem with being an artist who makes a living as such is that, like it or not, you’re going to have to deal with interference from your patron, who invariably wants your art to look more commercial. Even if they don’t know to put it in those terms, or refuse to, that’s what they’re going for.

This can lead to a serious lack of inspiration, like when you’re painting the back of a trading card calledEndless Wastes of Elrondand the patron doesn’t think it looks ‘infinite’ enough. I wound up painting a Moebius strip in the background to keep them happy. I mean, honestly, how was I supposed to paint infinity other than the traditional vanishing point method?

Art is a visual medium and functions based on how the human eye works, but I digress.

The day after our date, I turned in my work, received my meager pay, and promptly went out to spend it on bills. When I was done, I had about fifteen bucks left in my bank account, but at least I would have power, water, and be able to flush my toilet.

With a light heart and equally light purse, I went to the grocery store since I couldn’t afford to eat out. A choice between a box of macaroni and art supplies is one that many artists make every day, so I figured I was one of the luckier ones.

When I got back from the grocery store, I found my friend Junebug waiting for me outside my apartment. He had a grim expression on his face.

“Bug, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t you remember what day this is?” He sighed.

“Um, Thursday? I’m not seeing your point.”

“It’s the night that How Weird is doing his ‘cycle’ at the community theater on Staten Island.”

I sighed. “It’s not going to be that bad, Junebug.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Even if it is, it’s our job to support him. He’s one of the Bohemians after all.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m the one who brought him in.”

“Howard supports us and our artistic careers. The least we can do is support him back.”

“So I guess you’re NOT willing to help me pretend to have been in a bus accident to avoid going?”

“You guess right.”

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