Unnoticed love

Chapter 6

Flashback

During this week, I thought and replayed our short dialogue a thousand times, if not more. In the end, I decided not to answer the phone and not meet with her. I was torn between the desire to earn extra money and the fear of being completely disappointed in people. She conquered me with beauty and self-confidence, she lived a life that I could only dream of. And I knew that when the time will come, she would throw me out on the street. Let her better remain a beautiful stranger in an expensive car. And I will also drag out existence, selling paintings on Tuesdays in the market, and on Fridays doing all sorts of abominations with various women.

Friday has come. I turned off the phone in the morning, trying not to think about the woman, and also decided that I would not go anywhere today. She knows where to find me, so I decided not to risk it. Instead, I took out a bottle, a pack of cigarettes, and started to paint. I loved to draw while in a drunken delirium. It was doubly relaxing. Such paintings were aggressive, sharp, but not devoid of soul. At almost 7 pm, when I was already quite drunk, and smoke was swirling in the room, there was a persistent knock on the door. Swaying, cigarette in hand, I walked to the door. I was wearing sweatpants that fell from narrow hips and a stretched T-shirt. My hair is gathered in a bun at the back of the head. I opened the door without even asking who was behind it.

On the threshold I saw her. At first I thought I was delusional. I even shook my head. Strangely, she didn't disappear. Moreover, the woman took a step forward and confidently pushed me away with her hand, freeing the passage. I silently obeyed. She passed by, leaving the scent of expensive perfume behind. Nostrils drew in a pleasant and charming smell. I slammed the door.

The woman walked across the room, looking around at the mess I lived in. In the middle was the painting I'd been working on for the last five hours, pumping myself full of alcohol. She stood opposite her and stared at the drawing intently. She understood. I drew her. Her silhouette, her image. She was in the picture. The woman looked at me and said:

- I called you.

- I turned off the phone. How did you find me?" My voice was hoarse from cigarettes and alcohol.

- I asked for your address. You know, you're pretty popular." She raised an eyebrow.

- The profession obliges," I grunted and sat on the bed, taking a bottle.

- Will you drink?" I knew that she would refuse, but out of politeness I decided to ask.

- No thanks," she replied, and looked back at the photo." You have a talent, you know?

I took a sip of the scalding liquid inside and, grimacing, replied:

- Who the hell needs talent in this hole? You'll be lucky if some bastard buys naked boobs or ass photos for a dime.

- Do you sell paintings?

- Yes, nudity is best. Rarely do I draw not for sale.

- And this?" She pointed her head at the picture with her.

- This one is simple.

- I want to buy it," she said seriously, "how much does it cost?"

I chuckled, lowering my head. What nonsense. What is this woman doing here? She doesn't fit in here or in my life at all.

- Not at all. Just take it if you like.

- No, you worked, I want to pay.

- I do not sell paintings drawn for myself. Take it. And please leave.

It was disgusting to be around her. How miserable my life is. But if I were at least half like her, I could safely count on her favor. I could date these gorgeous women that I want, not those who pay me and make me do what they want. This was uncomfortable and disgusting.