MILES

“Fuck,” I said, breathing heavily. “Fuck me.”

“I’d rather not,” Zack said, giving me a cheeky grin.

“What do I even wear?” I asked.

“Um, you’re asking me?” Zack said.

“You’re the only one here,” I pointed out.

“This basement is dingy as fuck,” Zack said, looking around. “Honestly… fifty dollars is steep for this shithole.”

“It’s the best I can do, okay… until I get a real job that is.”

“You can always stay with me,” Zack offered.

“I appreciate that,” I said. “But I don’t know how long before I can afford a place of my own, and I don’t want to put you out like that.”

“Well, the offer stands if you change your mind,” Zack said.

I nodded gratefully, and for a moment I was actually tempted to take him up on that offer. The basement that was currently my hole was just as Zack had said: a complete shithole. It was a tiny space, made smaller by the sofa that doubled as my bed and the boxes that I had placed everywhere with all my stuff and most of my paintings. I had actually stored a few with Zack because I didn’t have room for all my work in this basement.

There was no natural light coming in either, only two bulbs on either side of the space that shone a pale, sickly yellow light down on us. I did have a small bathroom to myself, however, and there was a separate exit on the side, which meant I could come and go as I pleased without having to interact with anyone who lived in the actual house.

I had moved in only two days ago, and I was already depressed. Which was why I was really hoping that the exhibition would go well today and someone would show interest in my paintings. Then at least I would have something going for me.

“Do you have a suit?” Zack asked.

“Yeah… my parents bought me one for my high school graduation,” I told him.

“Excellent, go with that then.”

“Yeah?”

“White shirt, open collar… that should do the trick.”

I got dressed, and then Zack and I headed to the gallery in his car. We were early so the exhibition hadn’t yet been opened, but I walked in with Zack right behind me. I had to admit; all those postponements had worked in Gordon’s favor because the gallery looked fantastic. It actually looked classy, and the fact that I had my work displayed gave me a little nudge of pride.

“Hey, I think I see your name in that corner,” Zack said.

We walked to the left of the gallery and came to my display area. I had five paintings to view, and they were all very different in terms of subject matter, but the style was similar and brought the small collection together. The largest painting there was the one I had swapped in at the last minute… it was the canvas of Gabby.

“Damn, that’s good,” Zack said.

“You think?”

“If she comes tonight, I think she’ll love it.” Zack nodded.

I took a deep breath. “I hope she does.”

“Don’t think about it,” Zack advised me. “Concentrate on wooing the people that come here tonight. You need to sell your paintings, and you won’t be able to do that if your mind is on Gabby.”

“My mind is always on Gabby,” I said. “But you’re right. I’ve got to focus tonight.”

“Whoa…”

“What?” I asked.