Page 13 of The Puck Chase

I scroll and scroll, telling myself I am only looking to see if I can spot any more art, and I am rewarded when I stumble across a half-complete pencil drawn portrait that she has titled ‘Arch in progress’. It looks to be around eighty percent done, but it’s clear as day that it’s her brother, and I am so blown away by her talent that I can’t help but double tap the picture to like it. Only to realize my mistake and quickly double tap it again to take it away, but it’s too late, the damage is done.

Not even sixty seconds later my inbox pings with a new direct message, and I know even before I swipe who it’s going to be, and I open it reluctantly.

@RarelyRora : I knew you’d appreciate good artistic talent when you saw it

@RarelyRora : From one aspiring artist to another, thanks for the follow back. I hope I didn’t ruin your vibe too much when I interrupted you earlier

I contemplate not responding, but the thought makes me feel like an asshole. I mean she’s just a kid, and I remember having no one to talk about my art with when I was that age.

@D.Forbes : No problem at all. You’re very talented.

@RarelyRora : Thank you! My mom says art flows through my bones the way ice flows through Archer’s

At the mention of her brother I grimace, reminding myself it’s not her fault she is related to an asshole. She is probably nothing like him.

@RarelyRora : Well come on Forbes you know the rules, you’ve seen my art, now show me yours

Okay I take that back, maybe she is exactly like him.

@D.Forbes : I don’t really show people my art, but there is some stuff on my profile

I decide that’s my best defense, and when she starts typing and then stops, I think maybe I have worked my way out of it, but then she starts typing again.

@RarelyRora : I don’t want to see that academic bullshit, show me something real

@RarelyRora : I dare you

Yep, she is definitely related to Archer Gray.

@RarelyRora : I promise I won’t show anyone. Scouts honor.

@Rarely2Rora : **Image**

The photograph is of her hand, showing three fingers raised to emphasize her point, and I can’t help but laugh. She’s annoying and persistent just like her brother, but still I find my eyes straying over to my bookcase where I keep all of my used sketchbooks. Then, before I can second guess myself, I am on my feet and grabbing one, knowing instantly what I want to show her. I move back to my bed, flipping through the pages, until I find the sketch I am looking for, and then I snap a picture and send it before I can stop myself.

@D.Forbes : **Image**

She sees the picture instantly but no response comes, not right away anyway, and my fingers itch to take it back. To hide the part of myself I don’t show anyone, and I’m not really sure why I decided to show someone now.

Why now? Why her?

When her response finally comes it brings a lump to the back of my throat.

@RarelyRora : Daemon wow…

@RarelyRora : I have no words, that is absolutely incredible

@RarelyRora : And completely criminal that you don’t show anyone

@RarelyRora : Who is that?

A question I knew I was opening myself up to when I sent the picture, and for the first time in years I don’t feel a sense of dread. Not when I was expecting it, not when I orchestrated it, and as I type my three word response, my heart thunders inside of my chest.

@D.Forbes : My little brother

If I expected any kind of information-digging response to my words, I don’t get it. In fact, she just tells me again how talented I am, and then moves on. Then for the next two hours we talk about nothing but art, discussing preference, techniques, our favorite artists, and then she shares some stuff she is working on, and I end up showing her what I was half way through at the coffee shop. Then I live life vicariously through Aurora Gray, asshe tells me all the amazing stories of the places she has been and the things she has seen, and by the time we say goodnight, we have exchanged numbers with the promise of me to keep her updated on what I am working on.

A promise that feels easy to keep, since she is practically a stranger. Yet still, as I turn out my lights I tell myself I won’t break it, while also making another promise. To stay the hell away from the other Gray who has always been a fucking thorn in my side, and is now becoming a constant thought in my head.

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