My Kidnapper Compares Me To Bottom Feeders

(31) Vollieri

"So, Blair's mother has banished her?" I confronted Danny for the first time that day. 

He was deeply invested in what he was doing. He stood before a large white canvas and ground his bright white teeth, which were a symbol of power and beauty for humans. My ears could distinctly hear the tiny bones within his mouth scream at the torment he was putting them through. 

"You should not grind your teeth. Human bones are not strong enough to withstand that. Especially with all the filth you present to them everyday." 

He cocked his head, raising his dark brows. "Like Twizzlers? Cause I would love some right now." He replied, but it was vague and distant. He was talking to himself. 

I sneered, his lack of attention digging its claws into me. "Human." I hissed.

His head turned away from the canvas and he gave me a droll look. "Don't worry about my teeth. If they rot, I'll buy new ones." He shrugged. "And yeah, the crazy bitch threw her out, but I gotta say, I'm amazed it took this long." He grinned at me. "I've had this plan all, you know; ever since the first time she got caught making out with some guy in a linen closet of a hotel in Spain." 

"Plan?" I inquired. I could not see how his staring contest with a blank canvas was considered a plan. 

He grinned in a way that brought on the strange warm feelings in my ice cold veins. "I would get her an apartment, paid for by accepting my parents dreams of me being an artist; at least on the surface. Tell them the enormous amount of money blown was used for art supplies and personal classes with some snazzy hipster living in a vamped up factory painted like Woodstock and Christianities lovechild."

He frowned, considering, "The only part of my plan that's been sketchy is how exactly I'm going to paint these supposed 'masterpieces.'"

I frowned. "That it how human children treat their parents? Plots and self indulgence?" Where was respect in humanity?

Danny offered a bland look. "You've met my parents? Honesty and moderation aren't exactly high on their list of concerns. High on something? Duh. Reality? Not so much."

That was true. There were both obscure creatures who did not care much for human societies rulings. 

"And this plan is really just me handing them their dreams...at least from what they can tell. Isn't the happiness they'll get from this like some grand gift? My lying to them is going to cover all the major holidays. Christmas? Got that shit covered, I'll just paint them a nice mountain scenery. Or maybe a nude of Santa. No more hunting for carvings of obscure fertility gods or original pieces."

"Santa?" I asked, then shook my head, not interested anymore. "So you deduced a plan years ago to save your friend by overthrowing your parents without them realizing they've been overthrown?" 

He raised his brows. "I guess. I was a kid with a lot of existential issues. My first boyfriend was a solid example of that." He shuddered and returned to the painting, tugging at his plump bottom lip with his teeth. "The fact still remains that I'm shit at art and I have no idea what to do with this canvas." 

A small smile pulled at my lips. "I believe you could draw anything and your parents would view it as being on par with Da Vinci or Michael Angelo." 

Danny laughed. "My mom always cries when you talk about Klimt. Apparently, I was conceived below an original copy of The Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I. She believes that I am the reincarnation of Klimt and that I am bound to be one of the greatest artists to ever live." He frowned. "I was also conceived under the influence of a lot of drugs." 

"Just do something. They will be amazed no matter what. Every parent wants to believe their child is special." I replied, not seeing any reason for him to worry over it.