Page 2 of Broken Pieces
I stroll out of the creativity room toward the living room, searching for my purse. After finally locating it, I take a quick glance in the mirror. I’m rocking my usual stained overalls with a long-sleeve sweater, and I look like a hot ass mess, but I don’t have time to change, much less shower. So this will have to do.
On Sundays, me and my best friend have coffee and pastries at our favorite coffee shop. I love this tiny little place that’s nestled amidst tall buildings, creating a refuge for lost souls and dreamers. Walking in, I’m hit with thefamiliar smell of roasted coffee beans, buttery croissants, and caramelized pastries.
Sophia waves from our favorite spot—a corner table by the window with just the right amount of sunlight. Her brown hair shimmers in the sun's rays and the mischievous glint in her eyes signals she has news to share.
“You have that 'I've-got-gossip' glow,” I remark, settling into my chair.
“Can’t a girl just be happy to see you?”
I glance at her knowingly, raising my eyebrows.
She takes one look at my outfit, her brows furrowing in concern. “Any luck getting out of that rut?”
I slump my shoulders, frustration lacing my voice. “No.”
She grabs my hands and squeezes in reassurance. “I’m sure it’ll blow over.”
I roll my eyes. “So you’ve said the last four weeks.” I wave my hand in the air dismissively. “I don’t want to think about it. Let’s talk about something else.”
Sophia and I couldn’t be more opposite, really. While she’s loud and loves to party, I’m more mellow and prefer to go to a coffee shop, or to a good museum. I guess that’s why our friendship works. She’s the yin to my yang and all that. The one thing we have in common is that we’re both artists at heart. While her background is in journalism, she understands my world perfectly. But instead of wielding a brush to convey stories through paintings, she uses a penand paper to tell them. But much like me, she’s forced to work on something she’s not passionate about.
Though, how many people can say they are passionate about what they do for a living? I like my job, but that’s only because I get to be close to what I would truly—in an ideal world—love to do for a living.
That’s as close as I allow myself to get. It’s not that I’m a bad painter—I refuse to call myself an artist— it’s just… rejection is scary. That’s all. The thought of sharing my work outside of my creativity room makes my body shiver. What if what my mother said was true? I don’t think I’m willing to take the risk. Not yet anyway. Even though I’ve never felt so trapped in my life, I don’t think I could take the rejection and the mockery.
As we share our usual rich tiramisu, Sophia says, “Did you hear about that art heist that happened in Rome?” She works for one of the top media websites in the country, which means she is aware of what’s going on constantly.
I nod, recalling the headlines about the stolen painting that was set to be auctioned later this month. It was expected to be sold just shy of two million dollars.
In-sane.
“My editor wants me to cover the story.”
I gape at her. “Wow… that’s amazing. I mean, are you excited?”
She shrugs. “You know I’m just working there for the meantime. And I’m sort of stuck with it, and it involvesa lot of investigating since he wants the inside scoop and all.”
“Pft. He should be the one writing it, then.”
She glares at me. “You know how he is… wants to take all the credit and do none of the work.”
I thin my lips. “Well, if you need anything, let me know. You know I have some connections. Alex does too.”
She recoils at the name of Alex. “Please don’t mention that name. I don’t want to throw up. The tiramisu was particularly good today, and I’d hate to waste it.”
I snicker at her comment, rolling my eyes. We both decided to attend the same college and that’s where we met him. Alex and I were pursuing the same degree, while Sophia was pursuing English Literature. He quickly became friends with us, then the friendship between them went belly up after a drunken college night. I’ve been stuck in the middle ever since.
Alex was from Chicago, and decided to attend University of Kentucky to get away from the busy city, while Sophia and I were born and raised in Greenville, Kentucky. We’ve been inseparable since kindergarten. Just two simple small town girls who wanted to become somethingextraordinary.
I was the first to graduate, and as soon as I got that diploma, I packed all my things and moved to Chicago. At the beginning, I was just looking to survive. I could’vedone many things with a business degree, but none of them were related to art and I hated that.
Looking back, I was definitely being stubborn, but that’s just something that I needed to go through to get to where I am today. So I just became a bartender for a while. It was easy money and it put food on the table. That’s all that mattered to me at that point—survival. I had no hope.
The one hope I had died the day my mother took me away from it.
Two years later, Sophia and Alex graduated from college. Sophia moved to Chicago to pursue her writing career, and we became roommates for a while. Just two 22 year old girls in the windy city trying to make a living. She was an assistant atVogue Eliteat the time. I was still a bartender. Alex, on the other hand, moved to New York to open his own gallery. Sadly, that didn’t work out well for him. The details are still unknown to this day because herefusesto talk about it. He moved back to Chicago and became a curator for one of the top galleries in the city thanks to the connections he got during his time in New York. He knew how passionate I was about art, so he taught me the ropes of being a curator. I worked endless hours to make the right connections and worked my ass off to get inside the industry. It’s a small one, after all, so connections are extremelyimportant.
Art is single-heartedly my whole personality, so it was easy to learn the ropes of that career. I landed a job as an assistant curator for The Institute and quickly climbed my way to the top. Now, I’m one of the two senior curators for The Institute, discovering new artists and managing all the art that comes in and out of the gallery.
