DAD

Part 14

I went hostel, hopefully I find one of my canvas totally intact. This would help me to draw on it. I look for my colors which didn't seem to appear anywhere. Alexa comes out of the balcony with her phone in the hand and looks at me still annoyed.

"Alexa, did you see my colors?" I ask her even though I knew her current mood over me.
"Really, you expect me to know that?" She creeps out.
"Come on, please...anywhere you suppose."
"Clem that is so 'sprawling' that you are just acting so normal with me and not even saying sorry for hiding all this big shit from me, and now...asking for your colors?" She flushes it all out in one breath.
"Look, I know, I just didn't wan'na trouble you."
"Girl you're wounded, and it's visible...I can see it. You ain't no wolverine. Come on."
"Hail the wolverine." I shout playfully to make her laugh.
"God, thank me Clem."
"thanks"

"Well, why do you need colors? Why now?" She asks, keeping her elbow on my left shoulder.
"I took a part time job." She lifted her right eyebrow and threw me a confused look, seeking out more extension to my response.
"Well, you know my family tossed me out", I said quoting what Mrs. Peterson had said and continued, "And they denied to fill up my fees...so I'd to work for my living here in London."
"God, dude...it's expensive. What made you think that this small artwork thing will make you that much money?" She threw the words right onto my face, well it was really a point to think of.
"Well, I thought to start from the low point."
"Dude, let me say you...if you ever need any help about anything, even if the thing financial; do tell me. I'll try my best." She rubbed my back and left, I did some neutral gestures to that which didn't actually support 'yes' nor 'no'.

In these days, like these few months...I made a more few friends, but they weren't reliable. I'm not saying they were cruel and do-your-thing type, but I didn't trust them as much as I trusted Alexa.
I went on to find my colors but couldn't find them. I thought to spend my rest of the money on it, but that would be so stupid. So I think of going out and getting into a park nearby I knew, many people go there with their paint stuff and get to their hobby.
I walk to the place on foot, I had no stand or any color; just the pinned canvas and brushes. It felt awkward. I go to the park and find myself a spot. I keep my canvas and brushes on the green grass and look around if I could find someone polite to share color. Most od the people were old-aged and they were grumpy, so they won't share their stuff and that was clear to me.

While I was looking around, I see a guy...not bigger than me, but kind of a bit younger and he seemed familiar; the awkward thing is I was staring back too. Two people staring at each other but no sounds at all. He tries to recognize me somehow, I thought that because he was looking my face and twisting his brows and scratching his chin. I still couldn't recognize him. He looks at me deeper, and after a while he suddenly shouts out running to me, "Clemy!!!" and hugs me. After a while with the dint of his voice I recall, he was none but one of my cousin's of my paternal side, one of my uncle Stuard Waters, and his name is Adrian. Adrian Waters.
"Didn't you recognize me Clemy?" He asks with his puppy-cute eyes which made me feel ashamed as I really couldn't remember. But he did.
"Yeah, I miss you." I replied a lie...I didn't even know he existed.
"Hey you're here with canvas?! Wow! But where are your colors?"
"I... erm...lost them." I peek into his space to check if he had colors.
"I've colors, oil paints and you can use them." He glares at me.
"Thanks." I take his color and stand, drawing out a random thing, which I didn't know...the theme was unknown, and I guess I realized that I just wasted my canvas. A painting without a story is worthless, no matter how good it looked.
"Wow, it's nice."
"Yeah...but it doesn't have a theme Adrian."
His face turned pale as I said that, which made me feel like I had said something wrong.
"You don't remember me, do you?"
"I do remember you...come on Adrian, whats wrong?"
"You used to call me adrenal."
"Why is that?" I whispered to myself, but it came out a bit loud.
"I got angry too fast; that's why."
"Oh."

I took the painting back to the hostel when it dried up; Adrian had said me that they lived 3 blocks away from the park, on the left; asked me to hangout sometimes. That was really common to me; I barely remembered any of my paternal members.