Muse

2

I was lucky enough to wake up before I normally do, as I didn't get the chance to set the alarm I would usually set before I fell into my slumber. Staying awake at that time was the hard part. As my eyes slowly adjusted to my surroundings, realising I had fallen asleep on my couch – again – I slowly push myself off, my legs also adjusting to their surroundings. Slowly making my way into my room where my bed that I should've slept in awaited. As I walked in I was greeted by the sweet, citrusy smell my many wax candles emitted, almost waking me up from my zombie-esque state, like that first sip of coffee on my way to the gallery.

Opening my wardrobe that had too many clothes that I simply refuse to get rid of crammed into it, I decide to pick out one of my favourite black leather trench coats, pairing it with an off white knitted turtle neck and a similar coloured plaid skirt. Not to forget my beloved thigh high black leather boots to compliment the outfit. Although they were the only pair of boots that I could afford, and have worn them countless times to the point where maybe I should buy an new pair yet still haven't, they were still my prized wardrobe possession. I love my style almost as much as I love art. Art provides an inside on the context and emotions of the artist, and fashion, the clothes you wear can bear a lot of insight to the wearer. A simple connection if you think about it.

After getting dressed I put a bit of face on to liven up my look, to help me extrude confidence, to help me at least look like I hadn't just rolled out of bed – or off the couch. I made my way into the kitchen, just to brew myself a latte and get that extra kick of artificial energy to help me drag my legs out of my apartment. I hear a familiar pitted patter of paws hitting the hardwood floor, Blossom appears from around the corner from where her sweet little bed was positioned, almost as if she woke up just after I did, her fluffy little tail wagging behind her like a flag that had been caught in a gust of wind. Named after my favourite Powerpuff girl, apparently my younger self thought it was the perfect name for a Beagle with a sassy nature. Blossom was the family dog for years, until my older brother had moved onto a different home and my mother sadly passed away. Now she stayed in my apartment, content with her life now as an old lady. She truly brought me happiness in the darkest of days. A part of my very own family, it's me and Blossom against the world.

I put her favourite biscuit pellets in her bowl with a couple of jerky treats, as well as some refreshing water into her water bowl before I headed out of the door, down the warmly lit hall, and into the elevator.

•••

The first day back to work after a drastically long break due to a pandemic always seems intimidating. Quite frankly it is. It becomes even more intimidating when halfway to the gallery I realise I've left my bag with my lunch and my water bottle back in my apartment. Maybe Blossom would get to it and enjoy herself a ham and cheese sandwich. It was too late to turn back so I continued on to work, I would just have to buy whatever I needed when I got there. Not the best option when you're right on money, but it's only a couple of dollars. Right? These days the price of a sandwich is often unpredictable, almost suspenseful. You'd think maybe four pound maximum, but most of the time you'd have to double that.

Hurriedly stepping up the concrete steps that scraped under my boots, I walked through the automatic doors, a refreshing blast of air conditioning cooling down my heated face. Ah, how I missed the smell of over glorified paintings. My favourite one was a canvas painted in all royal blue. Nothing more, nothing less. Everyone who came in was curious by it. Something that practically anyone could do. I couldn't see the reasoning behind it. Some laughed and some stood for hours trying to figure it out. All it was to me was an eyesore, just a big blue rectangle taking up valuable space.

I made my way around to the staff room, comforted by the familiar artworks that hung across the walls while I walked. Finally reaching the small room with white walls, a white kitchen and white table. You'd think in such a creative space, we would at least have a break room that wasn't comparable to white room torture. Some call it minimalistic. I call it sensory deprivation.

At least there was a vending machine. I slot in a ten pound bill, choosing which row I wanted my bottle of water from. It still chose a different row, they're all the same I suppose. 

"Veronica!" I hear a low – almost annoyingly low –familiar voice beam from the doorway. "Never thought I'd be glad to see you here!"

Gee, thanks.

"Aaron!" I compose my less than impressed expression, and turn to expose my toothy grin. "Who wouldn't be glad to see me here? I basically run the whole show!"

A lie. A hint of sarcasm. I was a mere receptionist, there to answer queries, put through stock, and do whatever it was Aaron needed. At times it really felt like he gave me the shit end of the stick. Taking out the trash in the middle of my shift so my clothes are full of garbage juice is the most common. However, buying him coffee from the furthest cafe in town because he 'likes the way they grind the coffee beans' on my unpaid lunch break really takes the cake. Aaron and asshole start with the same letter. Coincidence? Not sure, but it's too perfect to not be.

"You crack me up." He says with a fake chuckle, one of those ones you see on politicians when interacting with the measly public. "Anyways, we're having an auction today, I'm going to need you to register everyone in."

"How will I-"

"They've all done it before, invite only." He shrugs and strolls casually around the room, tightening the clasps on his perfectly ironed white button up shirt. "They all know to go up to the front desk. I'm sure you won't scare them away, now will you?"

My stomach dropped, my heart pounding hard, his little snide comments just send me crumbling. He was the one who gave me this job, and god forgive I give him cheek, I've seen what he's done with innocent employees, he drops them as fast as he can put on a cocky fake smile on front of the visitors in the gallery. I maintain composure, yet only slightly, the grip on my room temperature water bottle tightening angrily,  I almost thought he might notice. "Never."

"Good." He beams, opening the white fridge to pull out his tin foil covered plate from home. Probably a meal made by someone who wasn't him. Maybe they're grinded coffee beans from Claude's. The cafe that is. Who knows what's under there. Nobody ever dared to disturb his lunch break. Not even me. The hypocrisy of it all. He closes the fridge and pauses to look at me. "By the way, I'll need a coffee around twelve thirty, the auction will drain all me energy, trust me."

Of course. What else was I expecting? Oh you've been such a good employee, and I'm so glad you're one of the ones who came in today, here have a bonus! In my dreams. My smile seems a bit more forced at this point, he's very good at breaking down my walls. "Sure thing, Aaron."

"That's my Roni!" He winks and points at me playfully, making me physically shudder, I wasn't sure I was able to hide that. Roni. Just makes me want to punch him in the mouth every time he says it.

After my encounter with gallery douchebag number one, I finally make my way over to the front desk, water still in hand. I notice my coworker isn't already sitting in her seat next to mine. I wonder if she's coming back. It would be nice to have a little bit of company while I waste away in this chair all day. The computer turns on, whirring hot air from its filter at an almost alarming rate, yet wasn't surprising due to its manufactured release was probably around ten years ago. Although there's many things I can't stand about being here, it's all almost worth it for the beautiful surroundings, and sometimes even the beautiful visitors.

While logging into my computer, a deep voice catches my attention, a visitor standing over me.

"Hi, I'm here for the auction?" He asks, his voice seeming unsure. I look up from my screen, and my eyes catch his. Now, I'm not the one for cheesy romantics, or to be mesmerised by a visitors facial features, but he truly caught my eye. Something nice to look at today. "Alex Renner?"