Wei Ying was intrigued. The man opposite him was a cipher, and ciphers were made to be solved. So he started with art. Art was what he knew best; it opened some extremely interesting doors into the mind of an observer. And so does guilt.
Wei Ying had always been a soft touch, but lately, he had been getting tired of that part of himself. He was not about to trust again so easily, and this quickly, after being burned numerous times in the past. He would use their mutual passion for the visual arts to ignite his own search and the flux of guilt to heat it up.
It was clear that Lan Zhan had a strong sense of right and wrong, but most importantly for Wei Ying tonight, breaching any level of trust. In his note, he had apologized for interrupting the scene between him and Mark, because of its intimate nature, but not for doing it in the first place. His sense of protecting someone being wronged, over-rode his sense of propriety. While the hero had risen to help, it left an opening for Wei Ying, and he intended to use it. He rose to face his host.
"Lan Zhan, I thank you for the help the other day. Honestly, I was falling apart very quickly, then, and had no reserves to protect myself. I will always be grateful to you."
"There is no need for thanks,"
"That is very gracious of you. However, I do have a problem with something else. I need to get some answers. "
"Mn... I will try. But there are some things..."
"Precisely. We all have some things that must not be over-stepped. You said you have trouble developing friendship. Friendship involves trust. Am I correct?"
"Yes."
"I have a fast rule in my life. If people want to view my work, perhaps even buy it, I show it to them privately, and I decide if I wish to share them enough with that person to let them leave with them. You have had time to study my paintings, haven't you? While I was dealing with a lot of emotional shit, you were over there, getting a long, analytical look at some pretty private stuff. Therefore, I demand equal time."
Lan Zhan had the good manners to blush. Ying watched him swallow. When he spoke his voice was contrite. " I am sorry. You interested me and I had to see them. I did not think.
Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did I interest you?"
"I am not comfortable answering that."
"And I am not comfortable, with you having that kind of edge on me. You have not had time to display your work here yet, so please bring me your portfolio. I will look at them tonight and your penalty for invading my privacy will be to watch."
Wei had thrown down his gauntlet. Would Lan Zhan pick it up? The taller man turned, walked into his room, and shut the door. Wei held his ground and waited. It took some time. Wei had all that time, and even more stubbornness, to stand his ground. This guy had to learn. You do not decide to ask for a friend and have it granted at the drop of a hat. It was something that must be earned. Would he trust Wei enough to expose his own underbelly?
When the door reopened, he stood there, head bowed, looking smaller somehow. He held a leather portfolio in a tightly gripped hand. The knuckles were white.
"No one but my brother has seen these. "
"I will just be looking.
"My uncle considers it a frivolous self-indulgence."
"I am not some arrogant art critic, Lan Zhan. I would not mind being a friend to you. But building trust is involved here. Are you willing to take this step and trust me?
"Mn."
"Mn yes or Mn no."
"Yes.'"
"Then let's sit. Move your cushion closer, I won't bite."
They cleared the table and Lan Zhan laid the leather carrier in front of Wei Ying and took a deep breath. When Wei Ying opened it he inhaled deeply as well. What lay before him was a visual treasure. There were faces staring at him. Nothing but faces. All in black and white. Lan Zhan's life as he saw it.
Firm.
Unblinking.
Ruthless
A straight and unrelenting lens with no filters. Yet there was something so compassionate in the way he captured them. It was almost as if the Wei Ying knew he was looking at life through shades of gray, but his own mind was providing the color that he needed to see.
The first was an elderly derelict on a seedy street, He held a beaten cigarette to his lips and squinted at the photographer with yellow eyes. Wei Ying was amazed, He knew the eyes were yellowed with jaundice and the tip of the cigarette barely glowed. His mind was compelled to enter in to the 8x10 and add these details himself. It was a dark and disturbing magic, and he was spellbound.
He glanced at Lan Zhan, a thousand questions rising in his throat but the man looked so nervous thattWei Ying could not bring himself to ask any of them.
"It is okay, Lan Zhan. This is ... I don't have words. How?"
"What?"
"How do you make me see color where there is none?"
"Is that what Wei Ying sees?"
"Isn't that what you intended?"
"I don't know what I intended. I simply saw the person, nothing else."
"That is it. You saw the person. But relied on the mind of the viewer to add what they need to it."
The second one was obviously from a war front. Gaza? Ukraine? The smoke, and the flames, made it impossible to know. A mother kneeling, clutching a baby covered in blood, trying to hold the fragile head together. Hints of red flashing. A tearless grimace on her face. All he could do was feel her pain and his own at not being able to help.
He laid this one down in saddened reverence. Then he closed the case and looked at its creator, wiping his silver eyes as he did so. Lan Zhan watched at him anxiously. Waiting like a child about to be beaten down again. Suddenly, Wei Ying wanted to meet this uncle of his; very much wanted to meet him. He wanted to punch the man right in his cold, judgmental face.
"You only looked at two. Were they...were they not to Will's liking?"
"Lan Zhan, they are so much to my liking, that I had to stop and gather myself together. They are amazing. Thought-provoking... no...not that. It was like that day when you grabbed Mark and forced him to see whether he wanted to or not. You are an elemental force of nature. You see your truth full on and do not veer from it.
Lan Zhan, I think it would be a very great privilege, to be your friend."
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Nana's Untamed Flash Fiction Oneshots
FanfictionShort stories for a quick read. A little snack when time is short. Or you are stuck in traffic. Or life is crowding in and you need that one little taste of the Boys.