Page 45 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

Breathe.

You’re good.

Once I have my emotions under control, I open my eyes and stare at what I've just created. It’s as if my mind has been splattered onto the canvas. Swirls of red, green, yellow, blue, and black clash and blend in unpredictable patterns, mirroring the chaos in my head.

I swallow hard.

This is probably the most chaotic, messy, and unique abstract painting I’ve ever created. I don’t think I’ve ever let loose and painted something like this before.

It’s because you were thinking of her.

I growl, my fingers tightening on the brush I’m still holding.

No. I did this because of me, not because of her. Me.

There is no her. There can’t be.

I hear my phone vibrate, and I immediately wipe my hands clean of paint and swipe my phone open. My thoughts finally mellow out when I see my mum's invitation to have dinner with her at her favorite restaurant.

Sighing, I send her a quick text confirming I will see her before dropping my phone back on the coffee table and focusing back on my canvas. After staring at it for a few seconds, I can’t help the groan escaping me as I pick up my phone again and dial Oscar.

“Hey, man!” Oscar’s voice greets me. Feminine voices converse in the background, and I have to force myself not to ask if Briar is with them.

“Hey.” My voice sounds hoarse. I clear my throat and sigh as I reluctantly say, “I think I have another painting I want to include in my next showcase.”

*-*-*-*

“I haven’t seen you in so long, sweetheart. Tell me, what’s new with you?”

I swallow a bite of my muffin and grimace at my mum. “Nothing. I have another art showcase planned for the future, but there’s no set date yet.”

“That’s exciting!” My mum’s face brightens with excitement.

My mum and I have a very close relationship. She’s my best friend and the first person I go to whenever I need to rant and talk. My biological dad left us when I was still a toddler, and ever since then, it’s been just me and her against the world. Until her new husband, Philip Greene, who happens to be a senator here, came into our lives and forced us to move to the States. We’ve been living here for years now, and we’ve only been able to visit home twice since then.

If this second art showcase is as successful as the last one, I can buy her tickets so we can go home and see our family again. Not that I don’t consider Philip family; he’s been amazing and a great cook. That’s how my mum fell for him in the first place, which is funny.

“Yeah,” I smile back before shrugging. “It’s alright. Hopefully, this second time around, I’ll do well.”

“Don’t doubt yourself,” Mum pats my arm. “So, tell me. Who is she?”

I frown, “Huh?”

“You keep glancing at your phone and letting out these sighs every time there isn’t a text.” Her brows raise as a knowing smile quirks her lips. “Tell me, sweetheart. Who’s distracting my son?”

I chuckle, “No one, Mum.”

I didn’t even realize I was doing that. Who am I even waiting for? No one. I’m not thinking of anyone. Mum is just such a romantic.

She continues to stare at me, clearly not believing me. But then she shrugs and says lightly, “Okay, okay. I thought you mentioned someone you were chatting with online a few days ago. You can always tell me everything.”

Barbara isn’t someone worth talking about.

Briar...

Fuck. Stop thinking about her, idiot.

I clear my throat and smile, “Shall I get the waitress’s attention to take our order?”

---