Shattered

Chapter 4

The vibrant colors of the fair and amazing crafts at every booth lightens my mood.
The crafts fair was crowded. The fair was temporarily located at a high schools parking lot.

"OMG there is a Photo Booth!! We have to take some pictures." Sam exclaimed and claps her hands.
Without waiting for a reply she pulls us towards the Photo Booth and we start posing and laughing as the booth takes pictures of us.

We just got here and the vibe here is immaculate, everyone here is so talented.
After the Photo Booth I see a booth with shiny and beautiful jewelry.
I started looking at the jewelry laid on the table and I smiled to the elderly lady who owns them.
My eyes were immediately drawn to a stunning gothic Victorian vibe red stone necklace.

As I picked it up to examine it, the elderly lady who owned the booth smiled warmly at me. "That piece is one of my favorites," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "I handcrafted it myself."

"It's beautiful," I replied, admiring the design. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

She chuckled softly. "Thank you, dear. I enjoy creating unique pieces that tell a story. This one was inspired by old Victorian designs I've always admired."

I nodded, impressed. "It really does have a timeless quality. I'd like to buy it."

"Excellent choice," she said as she carefully wrapped the necklace. "It's always wonderful to know that my creations find a home where they're appreciated."

After I bought it and greeted the lady I saw Valeria and Sam over at a different booth, I join them and we continue walking around.

A art booth catches my attention so I went to look around, these paintings are amazing. Whoever painted this is very talented.
I continue looking around and that's when I saw a painting that looked really familiar.
It's me and I realized that the artist behind this is the guy I always see by the river.
It's a painting of a short haired girl, just like me. Reading a book near a river with her back facing the viewers , that's looks exactly like the river I go to, and I wore that a couple days ago.

"Hey are you interested in buying?" A blonde pretty girl asked me. "No thank you just browsing." I say smiling and head back to my friends.

"Ugh, I'm starving," Valerie groaned, "Let's find some food before I start drooling all over these handmade crafts."

"Right," I agreed, "I'm hungry, too."

"Don't worry," Sam piped up, raising a finger lazily, "I know exactly where to go."

Valerie chuckled, "Alright, lead the way, Sammy."

We continue to wander through the stalls until eventually we come across a food truck. Sam grins, turning to us

"Here we are! Best little food truck in town."

"Ooo, yeah," Valerie chirped, her interest piqued, "What do they have?"

"All sorts of good stuff," Sam said, "They make this great taco bowl..."

*Valerie chuckled, grinning at her friend.*

"You're always getting that taco bowl, huh?"

After we ate and hung out more it was time to separate ways

I head over to the river and I see him again, a bit of curiosity hits inside of me. I approach him, my footsteps light.

I lean against a nearby tree folding my arms across my chest in somehow a guarded pose "your art is pretty good." I comment.

I can see that I caught him off guard "thanks," he says with a slight smirk, "I try my best." He turns sideways mirroring my stance against the tree. His eyes roaming over me. He leans against a tree trunk, a causal smirk playing on his lips. "I'm guessing you saw that painting." He remarks his gaze never leaving mine.

"It's hard to miss a picture of oneself," I reply, my tone casual, my eyes briefly scan his form noting his relaxed actions. A part of me feels compelled to put up walls, but something about him pulls my guard down. "I did wonder though, how did you choose me as your subject?"

He studied my expressions, "There was something about you," he responds, his voice confident. "A certain... vibe. Something that stood out." He steps away from the tree, his eyes never leaving my face. "It drew me in I suppose."

A wave of unease and intrigue flows through me. I keep my expression steady, although a tiny spark of curiosity lightens within me. "And now that you've drawn me, do you feel satisfied? Or is it a habit to linger on your subjects?"

He sighs, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "I'm not here to play games or pick people apart like projects. If you see me as just someone who lingers for the sake of it, then you're missing the point." He lets the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, "Maybe I've given you the wrong impression, but I'm more interested in understanding people, not just turning them into subjects."

My expression softens a bit at his words. For a brief moment, his honesty catches me off guard. It's... refreshing, not at all what I'd expected. "Understand people?" I echoed, my voice softer. "Is that what you call standing by the river, painting unsuspecting passersby like me?"

He leans back against the tree, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Well, you were hardly unsuspecting," he points out with a touch of humor. "I noticed you quite a while before you noticed me."

"As for the painting," he continues, his gaze on me, "that was purely a reflection of what I saw. It was meant to capture the moment, not invade your privacy."

My eyebrow raises slightly, equal parts surprised and intrigued. "So you were watching me," I reply, my tone a mix of skepticism and mild curiosity. "Did you decide right then and there that I'd make a good canvas?"

He laughs softly, the sound not mocking but amused. "You make it sound like I'm some sort of artist on the hunt. It wasn't quite like that." He shrugs, his gaze turning thoughtful. "It was more like...I saw a beautiful scene, and you were part of it. It would have been a shame not to include you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, you know," I reply, though a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of my lips. Your words, although smooth, strike something somewhere deep within me, stirring something I thought I'd shut off.  Lowering my guard, I ask, "And why should I believe you have no hidden motives behind your brush?"

He chuckles at my response, a flash of genuine amusement in his eyes. "I'm not trying to flatter, just being honest," he clarifies. "And as for hidden motives... what would those be?"

"Isn't flattery the cheapest form of manipulation?" I challenge. I maintain a cool demeanor, but his relaxed manner is slowly calming my defensiveness.  "As for your motives," I muse, "people always have agendas, especially when it comes to others. You're not an exception, I'd bet."

I shook my head, letting out a scoff. "You'll have to do a bit more than smooth talk to win my trust, you know," I say, a slight hint of challenge lacing my voice.
My eyes narrow slightly as I size you up. You've piqued my interest. Though I try to disguise it with a hint of defiance, your relaxed demeanor has got me intrigued.

"See you around, painter boy."

"Until next time," he says. "Don't be a stranger."