Page 40 of Make Me Scream

“Inspiration. I want to shock you — I want to disturb you, and then I want you to do the same to the world. I want you to take what I have to give you, and make something out of it that is truly your own.”

Gwen stands up and steps toward me. She asks, “When can we start?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Okay.” She turns to leave. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Somehow I let her walk out. She’d stay if I told her to, but it’s okay. She’ll be back.

I should tell her I made a mistake, to forget everything. I shouldn’t let this go any further; keeping one big secret is hard enough. But I can’t stop now.

I’m going to teach her. I’ll mold her into the artist she’s destined to be. Then I’m going to make her mine, and not let go.

Chapter 9

Joel is out with Martin when I get home, a lucky break for me because there’s no way I can tell him what the hell just happened, and I hate lying. I eat a bowl of ramen for dinner while sitting at my laptop, watching every YouTube and TikTok video I can find about Alistair Rat and the question of his identity. Hundreds of art critics, popular culture commentators and criminal investigators have posted their theories. Not a single one imagined it was Lane Porter. In fact, most of the haters quote Lane’s more insulting write-ups.

No wonder Lane enjoys making them look like idiots. He must love these videos.

I’d like to think that he at least freaked out a little over the idea of finally revealing his secret identity. It was a big deal. Maybe people would laugh if I told the truth, but some would think it’s just crazy enough to be true. Certainly more people would suspect him than they do now, and he definitely doesn’t want that.

No, he wants me.

This is, without question, the stupidest thing I could possibly do. Mundell wants to kick me out; getting caught with one of his teachers would seal the deal. And to sit on one of the art world’s biggest secrets… It’s too much. I should be running far, far away — but I’m not scared. I’m excited. I get to learn from a master — and maybe he’ll do more than teach…

I can already imagine pulling off my next piece of art and laughing as Mundell whines about some new Alistair fan. I’m starting to get why Lane likes yanking their chains. They’re so arrogant, so convinced Alistair’s beneath them, but he’s sitting at their tables, drinking their wine, and they’re totally clueless.

The next day I sleep late, nearly missing my shift at the cafe with Joel.

“I need you to keep a secret,” I tell him after work. “I’m seeing Lane tonight.”

“Really? Why?”

I’ve debated telling Joel about Mundell’s threat, but I can’t. Joel’s counting on Mundell to gain the recognition he deserves. Sure, Joel has the talent to go far on his own, but to be found and supported at such a young age… I couldn’t live with myself if I somehow accidentally interfered.

“I kinda like him. It’s not a big deal. Just don’t tell anyone. The whole student-teacher thing, you know?”

Joel says he does.

I feel bad about omitting so much of the truth, but I think he’d understand. There’s nothing I’d love more than to tell the world what a piece of shit Mundell is.

Lane texts me when he’s ready and says he’ll have dinner for us. When I get there, he’s set up a foldout dining table, silverware and dishes, a bottle of red wine, a massive bowl of Caesar salad and a tray full of lasagna. The food smells delicious, but I ignore it all, staring at a pair of cuffs and chains hanging from the studio ceiling.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You’ll see later,” he says, taking his seat. “Sit. Help yourself.”

We both start with the salad. We eat, neither of us say anything at first.

“Are you nervous?” he asks after a bit.

“Yes. What are we doing?”

“Well, tonight you’re going to learn the value of humility.”

I meant that rhetorically, but his answer swells a warmth within me. I’m reminded of Galleria Carnale; specifically, the piece labeled “Intern.”

“And, I’m going to paint you,” he adds.

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