Of love and lies

Alec

It's almost midnight.

Where the fuck is this is guy?

Does he not know who I am?

If this wasn't in the context it is in, I would've made his life a living hell. He knows that I need him, that's why he's torturing me. I clench my fists until they become pale.

It's so cold out here and he's taking his precious time. He better enjoy it because if I wait for ten minutes longer, those will be his last.

Before I could list the first horrible thing I would do to him, I saw a hooded figure make its way towards me.

I can tell immediately that its him from the disgusting hunch he most likely acquired from hunching over as he does lines for the past three decades. He's probably twenty but he could pass for a fifty year old.

Pathetic.

I would never be caught dead in such company and if I were I would have to end my life to spare myself the embarrassment. He on the other hand, will never have a bigger achievement in his life than being found in the presence of my corpse. My gift to him.

"Sup, bro? I got your stuff. Usual right?" He asks in his ever croaky voice.

I shudder at the fact that I have to touch his hand to get my stuff. It's probably covered in grime. I mean, if its anything like his unkempt hair and spot covered face, then I want absolutely no contact whatsoever. The things I do.

"I am not your bro nor will I ever be associated with such vulgarity." I say sharply as I take the brown bag from the furthest corner away from his hand. I toss the bundle of cash to him and start walking away.

"I have no idea what that shit means bro but I feel like you're being your usual mean self. Have fun with those!" He calls out but I keep walking without sparing another wasteful moment to turn back at him.

I walk up the steps, out of the dark alleyway and unto the path illuminated by the streetlights. I stop and debate whether to go left or right. I have an hour to spare before I go home and enjoy my new spoils so I go right.

The streetlights lessen and the UV lights become more frequent. I prefer taking this route when I have time because it's more...

scenic.

I stop in front of the narrow entrance to what they refer to as "Underground". I enter and the UV lights become more prominent. The further you walk ahead, the wider the tunnel gets and the more noise you hear. Soon I reach the centre of it all with all forms of art engulfing your sense.

Music.

Visual art.

Dance.

Theatre.

It's all here.

Maybe if little Miss smartmouth wasn't spending all her time gallivanting with incompetents, she would've found this place. I can already tell she would like a place like this. The only reason she still works for me is because I could see it in her eyes that night at the gallery; she loves the art.

However, all that means nothing if she doesn't step up to the task and get me new artists. I hired her for one reason and she uses her new position to get dates with said artists. I bet the Neanderthal's art is nowhere near the level of class and sophistication that I want for the gallery and if she dares waste my time trying to convince me otherwise I will fire her and make sure that neither of them make it past an interview for any job.

Ever.

Enough about her.

I stroll past all the people cheering each on as they perform their various artistic talents. My favourite thing about this place is that everyone here knows to avoid me at all costs. The last time someone tried to interrupt my stroll, I casually put him in his place.

A hospital bed.

That was probably the first time he had a proper shelter over his head so in reality he should've been thanking me.

The art here was street art which I wasn't much of a fan of but I only admire it because of the way she would talk about it.

"Isn't it lovely, Alec?" She would ask with her beautiful blue eyes wide with wonder.

"What?" I asked not interested in anything she had to say at the time.

"The graffiti. I love the way people can just look at a wall and see a canvas. They bring art into daily life. They make the real world prettier." She squealed as she ran up to a mural of a girl who's hair turned from feathers to flames and finally into butterflies.

It didn't make any sense to me but the way she put it made me start to see a masterpiece. She had a gift for that. A gift of making people see the beauty in everything around them. I was so stupid and so blind. I should've enjoyed every second but it was all squandered.

She started this place.

She used to come here with her artist friends and just paint the walls. Sure enough everyone followed her lead and made it the "Underground".

That's the only reason I still pass through here. You can feel her in the air.

"The underground? I love it! A safe haven for artists to express themselves. Viva la arte!" She screamed as she ran into my arms and crushed me with her warm embrace.

Every time she did it, it would knock all the air out of my chest. The memory itself still takes my breath away.

My breaths get faster and my heart starts pounding.

Oh no. It's starting.

I need to get out of here.