Chapter 13
New York
Sydney’s POV

It’s 09:45 pm. Exhibition started at 19 pm. Fuck, I hoped I will be able to come earlier, but that jerk from Sony was late of course and girls had problems with mikes what went into big sound problems. As usual – happened everything you didn’t expect to happen. But it’s ok – we went through it and my girls are going to L.A! Yes, now they’re officially signed band. This night seams to turn out just perfect after all. Just hope that Justin won’t be mad because I’m so late.
I park my `vette and run to entrance of Justin’s gallery. He kept the old name “Medison Art Gallery”. I told him to change it to something catchy and sexy, but he said he didn’t had time. Fucking excuses.
I move fast because I know I’m much more than just fashionably late. I’m like centuries late. And then my cell plays Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”. I take it out of the pocket of my red leather jacket when I bump into someone. And I mean – it’s someone big and strong because I’m almost swept off my feet.
- What the fuck!?! – I scream of course. – Are you fucking blind or just idiot?
I look up at the guy. He’s tall, much taller than me even through I wear my high heel Prada boots. His hair is dark brown, perfect haircut. He’s dressed very good – I recognize Armani when I see it. But my gaze stop on his eyes and suddenly almost all of my anger is gone. Those hazel eyes are so sad. Fuck, I can even see tears in there. This undeniably beautiful man is hurting so much that it’s makes me feel something somewhere deep down in my fucking heart. I know this hurt; I have seen it in the mirror.
- Are you ok? – I ask surprising myself with it.
- Sorry… - He just whispers and almost runs away.
I look after him for a moment until he disappears in the darkness of the night.
What the fuck is going on here that people are running out fucking crying?
As I walk into gallery, I see some people, but not many. I somehow expected crowd. I look around and then I see Justin. He’s in the farthest corner of exhibition room. Alice and Win are near him, Jack has his hand around Justin’s shoulder. Justin looks somewhere in one point, he’s clearly unhappy. What the fuck is happening here?
I make my way to them as I hear people talking. I hear some quotes like “what a big disappointment”, “he better stopped painting if he can’t anymore”, “my kid can paint better”… I stop at those last words and look at paintings on the walls at last. I saw Justin painting something in temple few times but I never looked closer to what he’s painting. You can say I’m not fan of art. Maybe because I’m more person of audio then video or maybe I just consider art boring. So the point is – I can’t criticize something I don’t get, I can only describe what I see. And what I see is… red blurs. I can’t describe it any other way – mostly there or only red blurs on the walls. Yes – there are some blacks, some blues and grays but mostly red. The closest painting to where I stand is just simple red blur on white canvas – nothing else. Like stain of blood… And I can describe perfectly what I feel when I look at those red blurs all around me – I feel fucking depressed and not because those paintings gets any emotions out of me, make me think about something, remember something – no – it’s just because I feel fucking bored when I looked at them and I know what it means – it’s fiasco. Justin’s fiasco. Fuck.
I approach him. Alice and Win look at me with sadness and agitation on their faces. Jack and Justin haven’t noticed me yet.
- Hi, birthday boy! – I say as cheerily as I can.
- Sydney! – Justin turns around to face me. – You came.
- I promised.
- You’re late. But don’t worry. You didn’t miss anything. At least – not anything important. – Justin says it with irony.
I look at Jack. He just shakes his had a bit.
I could say that it’s not that bad, I could say that I like what I see, I could say that all those people all around the room criticizing Justin’s art are idiots. I could fucking lie but I don’t. I never do.
- If you wanted make me love fucking art shows, Justin, you could have tried better.
Justin looks at me.
- Fuck you very much, Sydney.
He says and I see how hurt he is. Maybe I was too harsh on him?
- I mean – shit, Justin… - I don’t know what to say. I look around. – Do you like it? I mean – of course – you painted it, you put yourself in it, but… do you really can say you like it?
Justin just looks at me and says nothing.
- I wanna get drunk. Will you take me home?
I look at Jack and he just nods.
- Don`t you have to stay until everyone is gone? – I asked.
- I don’t fucking care. – Justin almost screams – I just wanna get out of here. So you take me or I have to get cab?
I notice people looking our way because Justin almost screamed. Fuck. Usually I don’t worry what people think but I know the critics. I have met a lot of music critics in my life and I know the type. Critics like to criticize. If Justin will make a scene at his own art show, it would be even worse when it is now.
I move closer to Justin and take arm around his shoulder, I lean at his ear and whisper.
- Now listen to me – you won’t run. You will be in this till the end. Because you’re not some little twat. You’re a man and you will take it like a man – with your head up. Understood?
- No, I…
- Shut the fuck up! – My voice is harsh. – You won’t act like fucking chicken. Not in front of me. Don`t make me regret allowing you enter my life.
- You don’t understand… - Justin’s voice cracks and I know he’s holding tears. – I just can’t. It was a mistake. You have had let me cancel it all this morning. It’s my punishment. I’m not artist anymore. This all is shit. It’s worth nothing…
- Maybe it’s worth nothing for them but it’s worth something for you. And you will stand by it till the end. And I’ll be right beside you…
Justin looks at me. Tears in his eyes. But there is something else – there is surprise and gratitude. Suddenly Justin pulls me in the hug and I find myself hugging him back. Over his shoulder, I notice painting – very different from the others, totally out of place. It’s mostly purple – my favorite color.
- Okay. – I say to Justin as I pull him out of hug. – Now show me all your paintings and let’s start with that purple one.
- You really wanna see? – Justin seems unsure.
- Of course I wanna see and tell to everyone how much I like it. I’m sure Win, Alice and Jack wanna do the same thing, don’t you?
I look at them and only Win understands me. I can tell because smile sneaks on his face.
- War of the opinions. – Win says and I just nod and guide Justin to purple painting.
Win talks with Alice and Jack for a moment and soon they disappear in the crowd.
- What was that about? – Justin still doesn’t understand.
- Nothing. Just like Win said – war of the opinions. If you insist something is good and you like it a lot, other person starts to reconsider his opinion.
- You really think…
- No, I don’t think they will start to like those red blurs hanging at the walls. But at least they will hear that someone likes them.
After that, Justin and I moved all around room and I told him (and everyone else who was close enough to hear me) how much I like his paintings. I got into some discussions with people who had the opposite opinion. But you know – even if I don’t know a thing about an art, I know very well how to prove my point and how to make people believe in things I want them to believe – I know how to sell things – let it be music bands, songs or even my fake opinion about Justin’s paintings.
It was deep into the night when the last guests left and I even heard some good quotes about Justin’s exhibition after all. Alice and Win had left about an hour ago. Jack and Matilda – woman Justin had hired as administrator of gallery – were still there.
Justin looked at Matilda.
- So? – He asked.
- Nothing. – The old women answered. – But I’m sure someone will buy something by phone tomorrow.
- Yeah. – Justin just said. No believe in his voice.
We left after that. Matilda stayed to close the gallery. Jack went to his car and I guided Justin to `vette. He was quiet and sad. When we got to temple, I offered Justin to get stoned but he declined, went to his room and closed door after himself. I just said, “fuck” aloud to the empty room and took a bottle of vodka.