Side 1: Cole Sprouse

7

It was 9 exactly and I was going for a jog around the block in a tracksuit and running sneaks from payless. Those who new me for long could say I've lost weight but I was still insecure around people but I cared about things far more important than a bit of fat but it did come to mind in the late hours. I wanted to bend over and call it quits and go back home but the lights were so bright that every other thought was now withering away in oblivion. I stared in 'aw' When I read the headlines and billboards above me in fluorescent lights. I would've ran further up the hill to the buildings but I looked to the side and saw an art gallery packed with all types of people which seemed entertaining. I've never been to a gallery before so my first instinct was to run across the street to the little building on the corner and see if I could possibly go in. I stood outside and read the posters plastered on the glass windows and brick walls.
'Keurins live art show 10/9 at 8:30'

Without a second thought I barged right in and aimlessly walked around staring breathlessly at the masterpieces. I studied each piece for minutes admiring how precise and detailed these pictures are; I could only dream to have that much focus and patience. I leaned forward into a picture hung on the wall with a smeared green streak of paint across the white surface but titled 'M'.
"Confusing?" A sudden voice asked.
I jerked back and looked to see whom startled me trying to even my heartbeats. "Yeah." I mumbled just to meet eyes with a large man in a black suite and long wavy hair half up and half down. When he talked I could see he had a gap and a lisp but was still very handsome. "I made it for my son Mygal." He stated moving his hand to the left of him. We walked slowly and further into the exhibit talking about Mygal and taking champagne glasses off trays. "His favorite color was green so he tried to incorperate it in every outfit and as a boy he would always run up the stairs no matter what like his life depended on it even if he was just going to get tissue." He joked so out of curtisy I forced a chuckle. He carried on with his nonchalant demeanor and began the rest of his story. "And then one day I caught him at the top of the stairs out of breath and panting and I'd ask why he was always running so fast up the stairs and you know what he told me?" He asked.
Obviously not Mister I just met you but I assume it was a rhetorical question so I nodded for him to continue.
"He told me, dad I like going to the top because the best things are up here." He stated. "Although I'm sure he didn't mean anything deeper then that I felt something click in my mind and boom." He explained meaningfully.
I nodded piecing everything together and understanding how 'M' came to be. "So you saw your son like your artwork, a streak of green going to higher places." I said he nodded assuring me I was correct. He smiled wide patting my shoulder. "Where is he now." I queried tangling my fingers together behind my back and trying not to mind the fact that he had threw his arm over my shoulder carelessly. "He plays in the NFL for the Green Bay Packers."
I had looked at my feet as I walked and complimented on him and his sons success. If I cared about football I would've been euphoric but I didn't care honestly. "You weren't invited were you?" He stated and I wasnt sure what to say without getting thrown out because I wanted to stay a while longer to observe. "Don't worry, the world deserves to see art whether he who wanders in is a stray or a guest." He said. He lost my attention at that statement because I felt as if he was trying to be poetic but failing miserably. I didn't respond but instead continued to walk under his guidance and speak to artist of the evening and discuss the work displayed.