His Greatest Redemption [REUPLOADED]

25

Sam

There was a certain comfort in being invisible, no matter how incredulous that sounded. When left alone with your thoughts for too long, even at a young age, it can start to mess with your head. Or at least my head.

I never liked the way my mind worked. Granted, I was only a kid, but it was what drove me into the hands of painting. I needed an escape, anything to keep those unwarranted thoughts from settling too long in my brain, and the day I first put a paint brush up to a blank canvas was easily one of the best days of my life.

I wasn't good, but I was too fascinated with the way the bristles moved across the canvas to stop and the overwhelming feeling in my bones was enough to keep me going. I had so many ideas in my head, and before I started painting, I didn't exactly know what to do with them.
I was never good with words, and so unlike a lot of people, I couldn't write in a diary. It felt too...open. Raw. So the only way I could really express my feelings was through my art.

I quickly learned that it, unlike the rest of my life, had no rules. I was free when I was in the mind set of an artist. It was the perfect getaway until it wasn't.

Art was also my highest form of hope. Because my imagination was a sad place.
And the months leading up to the day that my artistic bubble fucking popped and I lost the desire to draw and sketch, was the day I truly lost a part of myself.

I was leaned over the counter in the kitchen and I licked my lips as I stirred the coffee in front of me, wondering if the smell of alcohol was prominent. It was not recommended, using vodka instead of water to make coffee.
"Are you listening to me?" Eli said with a frown.

"Uh, no." I straightened my spine, taking the mug off the counter with me. "Care to repeat it?" I smiled.

He shook his head and flipped me off. "What are you thinking about? The charity event?"

I tensed just slightly, but he picked up on it immediately. "Chill, Baby G. You'll be alright. We just have some shit to handle, and then it'll be over." His tone was easy and assuring, and I watched as he lifted one of his shoulders up in a careless shrug.

"I'm not worried." I lied through my teeth.
I didn't trust any of them, no one besides myself really, and even then I was still so unsure half of the time.

"You're good at hiding your emotions, I'll admit that. But it's insulting that you question my intelligence." He chuckled, sending me a playful look as brushed past me and ventured out of the kitchen.

A few seconds went by before I heard the front door open and then shut. No one else was here besides Spade, and from the time I woke up this morning, I'd done everything in my power to avoid him.

My phone buzzed and I picked it up off the counter, taking it off the charger.
I had two messages, one from Dove and one from Jersey.

Dove: I'm forty minutes away.