Scomiche One Shots (R)

Prof pt 2

The next day Mitch unfolded his easel placing it so he would be facing his bed, and slid a metal stool over to sit on. His dorm was lit by a standing lamp in the corner, casting shadows across the ceiling and illuminating the sides of objects. A small candle sat on his bedside table, glowing faintly but warming the atmosphere of his otherwise bleak room. 

He placed the canvas atop the easel, making sure it was secure and level then went to find his paint. He rummaged through a drawer in his room, stuffed to the brim with various types and shades of paint. He settled for acrylic, grabbing shades of tan, cream, orange, yellow, black and threw them next to his stool. Mitch took the photograph he planned to paint and compared every shade of blue he had to the blue in the photo. Too light, too dark, too pale he thought to himself. Then he found one that matched perfectly, ominous and foreboding yet soft and gentle, but somehow alluring all at the same time. 

He sat down at last and pinned the photo to the wooden easel for reference. Mitch mixed the paint as he went, testing colors on a sheet of scrap paper then adjusting them ever so slightly. Each color, each stroke was carefully planned and thought out. He spent ten minutes trying to match one shade of tan, hoping he had enough that he wouldn't have to mix more. 

Mitch painted the way the light shone and glimmered in the photo, how it darkened areas and highlighted others. He portrayed the texture of every object in the photo, but did not allow one to stand out over the others. There was much more to the picture than what met the eye, some objects screaming a story of their own, but he allowed them to blend in. 

At last, he finished it. After six hours of painting, three cups of coffee, two bathroom breaks and one break to check social media, he was done. Quickly and carelessly he signed his name on the bottom and dated the back of it. With the clock reading well into the night, he flopped down on his messy bed and let sleep overtake him. 

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At 8:30am he slipped the painting into a protective bag and left his dorm feeling triumphant. The walk to the deans office was short and the air was warm. He quickly fixed his hair hoping it wouldn't become frizzy with the humidity.

Mitch was relieved when he opened the door to the administrators office and it was air conditioned in there. Pants probably weren't the best choice for a 90 degree day in Los Angeles, but hey, fashion comes with sacrifices. He walked up to the secretarys desk and waited until she looked up from her computer.

"Name?"

"Mitch Grassi, the dean wanted to speak with me. We made an appointment two days ago"

"So you're Mitch Grassi...he told me about your situation. Hope you can paint well kid, you're not on his good side right now" she snarled and Mitch tugged at the collar of his shirt slightly "Go on in"

He said thank you and knocked on the deans office door, heart rate picking up and palms beginning to sweat. 

"Come in" he heard from inside. He twisted the door knob and gently pushed it open, sliding inside and closing the door behind him. Mitch stopped in his tracks and just stood there, scared of what was going to happen next. He had been so confident in his painting and now that he was here, he had second doubts. "Please, sit down"

Mitch did so with shaky hands and weak knees. The tension in the air was thick and he could tell they both sensed it. "How are you?" he smiled, trying to break the uncomfortableness 

"I'm good but enough with the small talk. The assignment was to make a painting of a picture with aspects that are more than what meets the eye. I will grade it with the rubric you have always been graded with and allow you to present just like you do in class. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir"

"Good, then show me it" he sat back in his chair and waited. Mitch faced the painting towards him, slipped it out of the bag and turned it to face Mr. James. The dean let out an audible sigh and he could not tell if it was more of a gasp or out of disappointment.  He put his head in his hands and waited for Mitch to start. Mitch slid the photo that he painted across the desk for the dean to reference first.

"I will tell you just what I painted but I want you to tell me what you think it is too." Mitch held the painting with one hand. In it Scott was sitting on the edge of Mitchs bed in black boxer-briefs. His hair was tousled and sheets strewn about. That corner light illuminated half of the cream wall, and Scott sat with slumped shoulders, a slight smirk, and skin glowing. Mitch had taken the picture, claiming that Scott looked cute as his bright blue eyes pierced the camera lens. His face was soft and babyish but his body and chest were chiseled. Dark marks and red streaks littered his chest and neck.

"I- I painted Scott"

"I can see that! Elaborate!" Mr. James jumped

"It's in my dorm, and he was sitting on my bed in his underwear."

"So what aspects are more than what meets the eye?" he snapped. Mitch carefully handed him the painting and let him look closely. The dean studied it and tried to avoid the fact that he was looking at a colleague half naked. He compared the photo to the painting, eyebrows furrowing. 

"There are clothes, probably his, on the floor and bed" he said and Mitch nodded "It's night time because the light is casting shadows" another nod

"There's more to it. Look closely"

"Did you take the picture?" he asked and Mitch nodded once more "There are boxers on the bed near him"

"Mmhm"

"You took this naked then" Mitch blushed and turned away 

"Yes I- I was naked. But, there's still more to it"

The dean looked closer and squinted his eyes. He spotted two more things and the entire story came together.

"There's a condom wrapper in the background. Those marks on him are from you" Mitch nodded "You had sex and that's why you took this naked"

"Yes" he stated and a silence fell over them before Mitch broke it "There's still a couple things that you didn't catch. The entire painting and I guess picture, were centered around the light. It only illuminates half the room and half his body. To me, the lit parts represent the afterglow of sex and the dark parts represent the consequences of having sex with a teacher. It also shows trust and vulnerability"

"Explain the trust and vulnerability part"

"We had sex with that light on. We could see each other and ourselves in our most unadulterated form"

Again, a silence fell over them and the dean set the painting down on his desk. "I was skeptical about your grades when I looked at them. All A's in an art major is very hard to pull off. I was skeptical when you walked in the room. I was skeptical when you showed me the painting. To be honest with you, I though you were only getting good grades because Mr. Hoying liked you, which is why I wanted to grade this. I'm sorry"

"What?"

"I'm sorry I was skeptical and doubted you. This...this is brilliant"

"So, we're good?"

"Yes. Now get to class" he joked lightheartedly. Mitch slid the painting back in the bag and headed for the door. "Wait, Mitch"

"Yes?" he turned just before he twisted the knob

"A+ job on using a condom"