A Work of Art

Enchanté

"Daybreak City Police Department, do you have a non-emergency complaint or issue we can assist with?"

"So. Whatcha wearing?"

"Honey, I asked you to call my personal account and- wait, you're that one kid who keeps calling. Ugh."

"Guilty," Reikas chuckled as he fiddled with the can of spray paint in his other hand. "It's uh, Kaleidoscope this time."

"Stay where you are," the feminine voice groaned. "Officers are en route, Ryan."

With a groan, he brought his phone close to his mouth. "It's Reikas!" He hung up and lowered his mask. Ah, the irony of being hunted while wearing the face of a lion's, the apex predator... truly, this town didn't deserve his genius. This time, however, he didn't bother running. Instead, he simply strolled away casually, whistling some discordant melody of a song half-remembered. It didn't take long for him to decide to double back, though; 5 minutes was probably long enough for the police to stop caring. He raised his mask in search of the dropped can of paint, the trail of breadcrumbs expertly laid out as bait. Too bad they didn't take it this time.

The one who did, however, was a woman with pink hair and a leather jacket.

She stared at the wall in front of her. The countless colors of other poseurs and their works attempted to blind her. But her sight was set solely on a small piece of work in the bottom corner, just off the side of another large, uninspired piece. A set of 3 humanoid figures, holding hands and smiling with poorly drawn faces. On the left was one with short dirty blonde hair. In the middle was a messy jet black cut with a scar over their right eye. And the right featured an oddly similar-

"...hi."

Seraphim's head whipped behind her. Her eyes widened upon seeing the creator of the piece. "You're back to making art. It's been, what, 2 months?"

"3, actually." A slow, slightly limp hand slid the mask off Reikas' face. "I'm just... surprised you found it so fast."

"You're not exactly subtle about promoting your art. Especially to the pigs." The woman pulled out her phone, a damaged black case with a pristine looking teddy bear ornament dangling off it. Tapping the screen a few times, she held the phone up as it emitted radio chatter from police. "I... I'm curious about the meaning here. I'm getting a 'satire about overly complex art and beauty in simplicity' vibe. How close am I?"

Reikas exhaled. "I was going for more of a message of... 'art doesn't need to have deep meaning'. I just wanted to commemorate people who mean a lot to me." He walked up to the drawing, standing next to Seraphim.

"...sorry?"

"Yeah. Those two days were fucking miserable for me. But I can't say I didn't have it coming. I was dumb. I messed up, a lot. I kept dragging people down with me. I... y'know, I keep replaying that day we met in my head, over and over. There's not a day that goes by where I don't think about it."

"...me too, Reikas. Me too."

Reikas opened his mouth to speak, and yet nothing could be said. He couldn't ask for forgiveness. He wasn't sure he would even be able to forgive himself, much less get forgiveness from his victim. But at the same time, he had to try. Even if it meant another beating, it'd weigh down on him until it crushed him. He might not get another chance. It's now or never.

"Seraphim. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying you need a redesign. I'm sorry for leaving you for dead after shooting you. I'm sorry for robbing you, I..." Reikas began crying, beginning to openly sob and weep before long. "I-I'm sorry for letting you down."

Seraphim stared silently at the mess before her. Her idol, her inspiration, who shot her and didn't bother trying to help her, lie crying and begging for forgiveness. She was torn, to say the least. And yet, as much as she wanted to tell him to choke on his own tears and die, she just couldn't. Maybe she still looked up to him and his ambition. Maybe she saw the potential in him to grow and change. Maybe she thought he was just that pathetic. She didn't know, and she didn't know when she started holding him in a tight embrace. Reikas squeezed tight, wetting her jacket with tears and snot. It felt nice.

Before long, Reikas broke the hug and stepped back. "...thank you," he muttered, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"You know, as much as you fucked up... I still have this weird sort of respect for you. It's like, under this cocky, selfish, piece a' shit facade, there's a good kid at heart. Don't let that part die." Seraphim rubbed his head with a soft smile.

"...couldn't if I tried."

She chuckled. "There's the Reikas I'm used to. Gotta question, though. Who's that?" She pointed to the art of the person on the left.

"Oh! That's Eden. They mean a lot to me. I'd be dead five times over without 'em. Would've thought you'd recognize them since you sent that message for me."

"Well, you're gonna introduce me. I gotta feeling we'd get along pretty well." And with that, the two set off to the safehouse they called home, inspiration and muse, hand in hand.