Querencia

ARE YOU THE BLACK HOLE?

TW: Slight discussion of religious trauma.

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4:12 pm
March, 2023

"Look at this, this is beautiful."

"It really is, isn't it?"

Nick and I had been wandering the streets of Vienna for about an hour after breaking out of our shared moment at the bookstore. Neither one of us had mentioned the moment since, but a new sort of energy had formed between us. It was expectant, like the very air around us knew that we both were desperately waiting for the other to make the first move. Or so I had hoped.

We took our time looking at the old buildings and statues, acting as if we had all the time in the world, when in reality the night was slowly approaching, bringing with it the dawn I was dreading immensely.

Eventually Nick suggested we visit an auction that his friend was hosting in Vienna so we found ourselves back on another trolleybus which ended up taking us to our destination.

Art galleries were not entirely my scene, but they were Nick's, and therefore I kept my eyes keen with focus as we entered the contemporary exhibition. There was no music playing, so the room was very silent except for a few murmurs, but the white-walled space gave an air of security to speak nonetheless.

As we moved further into the hallway we were met by a decent crowd. Nick introduced me to a man in a dark suit, shaking his hand before the man had the time to fully reach out. He was older, with crinkled eyes and thin lips, but his expression was friendly, welcoming.

"Hello," Nick greeted smoothly. I caught the remnants of his Vermont accent, heavier when he rolled over his L's. I wondered if Nick only used it when making an impression.

"It's nice to see you again, Nick," the man said. Then he turned towards me. "You brought a friend."

I couldn't tell if the look in the man's eyes was acknowledgement or curiosity, so I didn't try to guess. "Charlie," I said simply. With one hand around my drink that I was handed earlier at the entrance and the other in my pocket, the man didn't reach for it. "Nick invited me."

"He's my plus one for tonight, since I'm not seeing anyone," Nick clarified, still ambiguous. "I hope that's not a problem. He wanted to see the art."

I wondered if the man could read the tension between us, or if he was choosing to overlook it.

"It's nice to meet you, Charlie," the man said, pausing after he said my name. "I'm sure Nick can tell you a lot about the art here tonight, if you're interested."

"It would have been a shame to miss out," I said smoothly.

"You won't find a culture more dynamic and enriching than the one represented here, by the
artwork displayed in this gallery. It's a long way from New York," the man said. He wiped his mouth on a napkin, turning to gesture at the people filling the room. "I hope you enjoy it."

"I imagine I will, as I always have," Nick said. He took a swig of his wine, but he swallowed so little that I sensed he was trying to avoid becoming buzzed. "I will take the time to show Charlie around, then. He deserves to have a look at the fine craft, Mikael."

Mikael. I wondered how Nick knew this man. Where did they meet? Were they good friends? Was Nick a regular at his art exhibitions. Did he know who Nick was? But I never pried.

"Your work," Mikael cut in, his face flashing with something like interest. "How has it been holding? Have you found your inspiration yet?"

Nick paused. "I can't say the journey was perfect, but certain things have happened that have made me think otherwise. Maybe Vienna will bring me my muse." He smiled the words out gently as he glanced towards me.