“Traditional first, then scan to digital. It’ll keep the textures. Trust me, it’ll look fantastic when it’s based on something made with your skills.”
I grimace to myself but quickly morph it into a smile when Horace looks at me.
Although I’ve been illustrating lately and finding my creative self again, I’ve not painted yet. And the mix between watercolour and acrylic paint used for gouache is difficult. It dries fast, so I can’t hesitate. It’ll take some practice before I get it right.
We wander back to the corner, and Horace leans on my desk, craning his neck, looking through the cracks of my wall to Mark’s office.
“What do you want me to paint?”
“Continue with your idea,” he says, his voice low. “Do the magical forests and the desolate landscapes. Just whatever comes to you.”
“When do you need it by?”
He scratches his chin and shrugs. “Oh, there’s no rush. Good things take time. Just get all the stuff you need and get set up in the library nook. Is there enough light in there for you?”
“I’ll check.”
I look at him. His dark eyes wide open, his thin lips in a crooked smirk. He’s much braver than he seemed when shrinking away behind Mark the first time I saw him. Is he going to stand his ground when it’s needed?
“Is this going to get us in trouble?” I ask, not sure what I’ll do with the response if it’s ‘yes’.
“Oh, let’s just make sure we don’t get caught until we have something to show.” He grins, but it’s not reassuring. I don’t want to lose this job.
But do I want to draw Damian’s style or paint my own stuff? The answer is easy. The thought of painting—picturing myself setting up my canvases, and conjuring up an imaginary world—is the closest I’ve been to feeling whole since my painter-days.
“Okay.” I nod once, and he stands up.
“You’ll learn this, Rey: innovation and change take time to get right, but time won’t be given to us. We need to steal it. We have to be rebels to make change, orthey—” He jerks his head towards the office behind my desk and the man inside it. “—will kill it before it’s even started.”
“You’re a badass, Horace,” I say, winking at him.
“No, I’m a man of faith, Rey. I believe that things that spark joy in your life are worth fighting for.”
He doesn’t know it, but these words go on repeat in my head the rest of the day and they don’t just inspire me to go (super sneakily) to get the painting equipment and set up in the nook as he instructed, but it also made me feel brave enough to stop worrying about Robin not wanting mebecause I’m not a VVIP like him. Or because I don’t have it all figured out. Robin brings me joy, and I bring him joy. I’m certain of it.
I’m ready to see him. To let him see me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
blog 59
F/WHATHAPPENSINMAYFAIR
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Blog59: Alice, Alice, who the fuck is Alice?
Team, I’ve had some time now to pore over the photos, and I’ve received TONS of input from you all. Thank you!
We’re not ready to explore the current event (a sensory experience called Mesmeric Mystique) taking place over the two months up to Aurellan’s restaurant opening, but know that we’re keeping our ears open and eyes peeled.
To the good stuff, let’s continue our May Day Wonderland Masquerade unveiling game!
Who’s who?
Did you guess it, and what do you think of the connections I make below? Thank you for your patience. I’ve been through hundreds if not thousands of photos from previous events and compared them to the latest.
I found some gems, peeps.