Artbeat

Chapter XXI

- PIERCE -

I pace into the studio, as my eyes scan the whole room. My heart races with anticipation, my mind filled with the possibilities of who the artist might be. I've never felt this eager to meet an artist before. Maybe it was the thrill that I knew not a single thing about. What was I getting myself into? There was little to no chance of it being the girl behind the mask. Maybe she doesn't even paint.

I spot a girl, taking a look at the art work around the studio. As I took in the sight of the raven-haired girl, a jolt of recognition runs through me, like a spark of electricity.

She's dressed effortlessly in loose jeans and a t-shirt, her eyes wandering around the artwork and sculptures.

Just turn around. Is it really you?

My emotions are in turmoil, a maelstrom of confusion, curiosity, and longing. I'm drawn to this girl, this stranger, with an intensity that I can't quite explain.

Finally, her eyes explore the room, and ends up connecting eyes with mine in the process. Her piercing blue eyes spark a sense of déjà vu, and my heart skips a beat. Aria?

I took a step closer, my eyes never leaving hers, I can feel the tension between us building. Her gaze is like a magnet, drawing me in.

I pass by Rachel's desk, my eyes glazing over her familiar face, my ears tuning out her gentle greeting. I'm too consumed by my own thoughts, Rachel's voice was just a distant hum, a background noise that I barely acknowledge. I'm too far gone.

I approach her, my eyes locked onto hers, and she gasps, her hand flying to her lips. "You... you're Kayden Pierce?" she exclaims, her voice a little too loud in the silent studio.

Ah, she hadn't figured yet.

The intensity of my desire for her is palpable, like a living, breathing thing. If I had let myself get any closer, I would have lost all control. My body would have acted on its own, driven by a primal urge to claim her, to hold her close, to taste her lips.

I can feel the tension building inside me, a coiled spring ready to snap. My hands ache to grasp her, to feel her soft skin beneath my fingers. My lips burn with the need to kiss her, to claim her mouth as my own.

The air is thick with tension, and I can feel the weight of my past bearing down on me.

The revelation that it was my first time seeing her without a mask hits me like a ton of bricks. All this time, I've been wondering what lay beneath the mysterious veil, and now, here it is. Her face, unobscured, is even more captivating than I imagined. My Ari's face.

But as my eyes roam her features, I notice something I hadn't expected - a scar on her cheek. It's a small jagged line, a reminder of a past hurt.

Without thinking, I raise my hand, and from a distance, cover half her face with my palm, as if to recreate the mask she usually wears. It's an instinctual gesture, a desire to confirm the truth.

She notices my action and coming to a conclusion on her own, "So, you're implying...that I should have brought my mask," she concludes, her voice laced with a hint of understanding.

I don't respond again, my hand still hovering near her face, before I slowly lower it back down. She confirmed it's her.

The confirmation hangs in the air, a silent understanding between us.
"Collaboration, let's focus on that.",
I turn to sit on the sofa, and I gesture with my hand, inviting Maeve to sit across from me on the other sofa.
She seems lost in thought, her eyes fixed on my face, but as she notices my gesture, she quickly snaps back to attention and hurries to sit down.

The distance between us is now a comfortable few feet, and I can see the faint hint of a blush rising to her cheeks. I watch her close her eyes, taking a deep breath, while she settled into the sofa, and I wait for her to gather her thoughts.

The silence between us is brief, but it's enough to create a sense of anticipation.

"Name," I ask, my tone straightforward and curious.

Her eyes widen slightly, as if she's surprised by the simplicity of my question. "Oh, uh, Maeve," she replies, her voice hesitant. She pauses for a moment, as if realizing how little she's shared about herself. "Maeve Carson," she states her full name, her tone a bit more confident.

I nod, my expression neutral.
Maeve Carson.

Her eyes are still fixed on me, and I can sense a hint of nervousness beneath her calm exterior.

"I've been thinking a lot about the concept of identity," she says, her voice filled with passion. "I'd love to explore the idea of fragmented selves, and how our different personas and identities intersect and collide."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. This is a very different idea from what I was expecting, "Tell me more," I say, leaning forward.

Maeve launches into a detailed explanation of her idea, talking about the different aspects of self and how they can be represented through art.

I lean back my arms crossed as I listened intently, my mind racing with possibilities. I can see how this idea could be developed into a powerful and thought-provoking art piece.

As she talks, I realize that her idea is not only different from what I was expecting, but it's also challenging my own assumptions and biases. I was excited to see how the collaboration will evolve, and how our different perspectives will shape the final art piece.

"Okay then", I nodded.

Maeve's face lit up, her smile radiant, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "You're on board?!" she exclaimed, her voice a little too loud, a little too excited.

I couldn't help but smile. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and it reminded me of Aria's joyful expression whenever I agreed to grab food with her. The memory flashed through my mind, and I felt a warmth in my chest.

But as I gazed at Maeve, I noticed her expression suddenly shift. Her smile faltered, and she seemed to catch herself. Her eyes darted away.

"Alright, let's get started tomorrow. When are you free?" I asked trying to sound casual.

"After school... 3 pm I mean", Maeve nodded, her expression now more subdued, but her eyes still sparkling with a hint of excitement.

"Alright, it's settled. Just give your number to Rachel and you are free to leave"

I got up from my seat and she followed, carrying her belongings with her, "Um, Mr. Pierce-", she called out stopping me. I turned around to hear what she had to say.

"I...I don't have a phone."

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