The Blue Eyed Boy

Alex III

"Looked into your eyes and found my favorite color." -something really artsy and stuff

"I. Am. Going. To. Murder. Someone very, very, very, soon!" I threw my hands in the air, letting go of all the paintbrushes I was holding. They hit the floor with cracks and rolled in all different directions. A sound that mimicked a whale escaped from my lips.

"Oh, my! Detener todo el ruido! What in the world is going on in here? It's still a mess; you parents guests will be here in hours!" Luciana, our housekeeper, peeks her head in the art 'room'. It was so big that Charlie and I had taken to calling it the Art House. The entire thing was probably close to the size of a decent sized backyard. When both their kids took an interest in the arts, my parent extended our already giant household to accommodate for all things relating to art.

The walls on the outside appeared to be the same sleek and grey material of the entire house, but the inside had an industrial feel. The walls were made of white brick, and the support beams for the roofing was exposed. A fourth of the room had been blocked off by black walls, the only entrance was through a thick wooden door. Inside were all of Charlie's old photography tools and photo developing stuff. Another fourth of the room was occupied by about twenty racks that had loth stretched tightly over them. Each cloth portrayed a different scene; had painted by yours truly. There was a phase where Charlie had paid girls by the hour to pose for him; eventually, he ditched that idea after finding out that most of his 'models' were very high maintenance. The other half of the room was dedicated to my painting. There was a long glass table on one side which featured built-in LED lights and a remote control that could tilt the table up or down. The opposite side had three different easels. I preferred to jump between paintings because I got bored and tired of working on just one. There were also lots of shelves that held bins filled with anything from oils to watercolors to acrylics. A closet housed all of my canvases, big and small. There was also a rack that was inserted with different papers. Seriously, anything having to do with art was here. 

My problem today happened to be that board directors from the Art Institute Of NYC were coming today to have a look at some of my pieces...and the place was an absolute mess. You practically had to wade through all the ripped and crumbled pieces of paper that were wont eh floor, not to mention that I currently had five canvases out, each only half painted. The table was littered with five different palettes and rolled up tubes of paint that were scattered everywhere. Boxes and bags and packaging lay in a heap by the trashcan, left over from when my many relatives had sent congratulatory gifts due to getting this one on one.

"I know, I know! And look at this place! It is such a mess! What am I going to do Luciana?" I raked a shaking had through my chocolate strands. It could not look like this when the directors visited. Sure, a few scattered brushes and maybe some paper balls wouldn't be that big of a deal.

"A true artist is not complete and organized, he must let his inner creativity leak through into his hands, his clothes, his workspace." Luciana pointed the end of her duster at my hands, coated in graphite, my shirt, stained with paint, and then to the studio, in all its hellish condition. "You are an artist Alex. Turning messes into beauty is what you do."

"Thanks, Luciana but I don't know how this mess will become beautiful." I sat down on the edge of my stool and started picking at my nails. Blue ink spelled out something on my arm. Pushing my sleeve up to see what it was, I remembered the party last night.

Caleb. His number. On. My. Arm. 

"You know what Luciana? I think I know what to do. I'm just going to need a boatload of courage, the confidence of Sam, and a phone."

"Well I can get you a phone but the confidence and courage might take some time shipping."

I laughed and before I could think twice retrieved my phone from its resting place in my back pocket. My fingers automatically reached for Sam's contact but I forced them to hit the ten numbers scrawled out on my skin.

"I will leave you be then, I wish you luck, Mr. Safog." I took a shaky breath as Luciana left the room. Now it was just me and my art. I looked back to my screen. One button, one press. That's all it would take to connect us, wherever he is and whatever he is doing, suddenly I would be apart of that.

"Ugh you're such a romantic Arisocraboy, it makes even me sick and I am the queen of romanticism."

"What do you have to lose anyway? I mean seriously there are way cuter guys than Caleb Jackson out in the big bad world. Call and if he blows you off, go find another hottie. This state alone is cralwing with them."

Sam's voice echoed so clearly in my head I could've sworn she was right next to me.

"But Sam! Isn't there some rule about waiting to call...what if he thinks I'm a weirdo?!"

"The rule is of utmost ignorance and should be disregarded into the trash as soon as possible. And you are weird, so what? I'm weird. Caleb is probably weird too! Everyone's weird Alex just call him!" My inner Sam was rolling her eyes and smirking. I closed my eyes and imagined that she was sitting on my table, painting her toenails a bright color because that's who Sam was. She was neon yellow. I wasn't even a distinguishable color. I was just me. Just Alex. Just Alex with his shyness.

"C'mon baby just call him, nobody's gonna judge."

Taking a deep breath, I channeled as much of my inner Sam into me as I could. My thumb trembled over the green button before pressing down lightly.

"Hello?" A voice, bedridden and sonorously deep, answered.

"Um...hey."

"Who is this?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. You gave me your number the other night, or last night to be specific. I needed a cup because my friend Sam left hers and she needs random things for random stuff sometimes. Not that having a cup is random but I said it had to be red and then I grabbed a blue one and-I'm Alex." My mouth finally learned how to stop spewing utter nonsense and said something decently legible. 

"Oh yeah. What do ya need?" 

I looked shamefully upon the wild jungle mess before me. "How fast can you get here? This is kind of an organizational conundrum over here. Like there's stuff everywhere and these people are coming soon and I'm rambling again so just-please come."

There was a pause and I heard him take a few deep breaths before he replied, "Uh...yeah, let me um, yeah I'll just-you text me your address and I'll be over in like five?"

"Yeah, that's cool. I will text my stuff to you." I felt my face blush crimson, "I mean, like my address. Not other stuff, cause that would be weird, really weird. You're just a friend or maybe more of an acquaintance. I haven't really known you that long, so I guess we couldn't really be considered friends on a societal basis but-"

"Alex, we're friends, and friends don't let friends have organizational conundrums. I'll see you soon." I heard a click and the line went dead.