See You on the Other Side | ✓

29 | This is Serious

"You can leave me if you wish, my love, but I'm not going anywhere." - Keaton Henson, 10am Gare du Nord

~~~

We arrived at the event afterward. Avery's arm latched onto mine. The venue was large and filled with people dressed to impress. I thought my funeral suit fit in quite nicely.

"Shall we?" My girlfriend questioned.

"We shall."

"Y'all are so cute, it's nauseating," my grandma commented.

Avery couldn't stifle the laugh escaping from her lips. Her laugh was adorable, yet I thought everything she did was something to be admired. I guess it was because she was who I admired. As we made our way through the entrance, my eyes were glued to her. She had me in a trance that I didn't want to exit.

As the decor got more elaborate, I found her squeezing tighter and tighter onto my bicep. She looked up at me with her brown eyes, searching for comfort. I was willing to give it to her.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's just a lot of people around," she answered. Her voice was slightly shaky and sounded strained at points. Suddenly, the room felt smaller as more people packed in.

I could tell that she was anxious. She kept looking frantically from the left to her right, scanning the room.

"I know, but it's okay. Nothing bad will happen. I wouldn't put you in harm's way," I reassured her.

"It's just a lot. Sensory overload, I guess," she said.

I continued looking at the room before I noticed an elegant passageway. It was heavily lit, yet not cramped at all. With the venue being one of the most grandiose halls in Annapolis, it didn't come as much of a surprise. The arches that acted as an entrance to the section were lined with gold.

"It's a little quieter over there," I mentioned. Avery took one glance over there before she grabbed my hand and took me over there.

"Aggressive much?" I joked. She looked at me and began to laugh.

"Sorry, I just knew that this was where I wanted to be. I mean, look at these paintings."

The paintings were framed with gold detailing and all of the artworks had a sense of delicacy. There were about six and all of them had a woman as the subject. I assumed they were all by the same person. Avery stood inches away from one of the more sorrowful pieces. Why would she be interested in that?

"Is this one your favorite?" I asked, putting my arm around her.

She got closer to me. "Yeah, it's just emotional. The girl in the painting looks like she's been through a lot, but she's still beautiful."

All I saw was a girl crying.

"Wow, you're smart," I commented.

"Oh, don't act so surprised. Anyway, I'm very used to analyzing. Stories are best told without words, especially ones like these."

"How?"

"Well, art is open-ended. Everything is fluid and not clearly defined. One person's analysis may reveal an aspect of their lives, but it's under the guise of artistic scrutiny," she elaborated. I could tell she was passionate about the arts. When she was explaining it, she began to pace a little, hands moving with her words.

"Someone's arts education is being put towards good use."

"Yeah, I'm only good at dancing but I know a little about acting, art, and singing. I'm not really good at any of those though."