The Great Artist // NINE PERCENT Chen Linong

06

○ You love him, mysterious, dangerous ○
○ Love him, decadent, superior ○

Since their last meeting with the CEO, the writer hasn't been talking as much. Not that he didn't want to, but the artist was the CEO's lover and he wouldn't want to get in trouble just because he said the wrong thing.

But something inside his head has been bugging him, a voice actually. It was because of the nightmares he had ever since he met them, the artist and the rest of the gang in the exhibition. He thought that it was weird.

But the voice was saying that they don't love each other, that they're just too blind to notice that. That one of them is using the other, that they're just blinded by infatuation of some sort, as if they're under a spell.

He was unsure of what was happening between them, from the relationship to their trust. Just as how the artist once told him that she doesn't want the CEO to find out where her place is. It was all so frivolous and he was confused. 

The artist was also confused. She wanted to know what the writer and her lover were talking about back at the mall. She was really curious about that and couldn't help but think that something wrong happened there.

She judged that by the writer's expression and behavior after the meeting. She wanted to ask him about it but she was afraid that he would shut her out even more than he already has. She was afraid that he won't accept her talking to him.

That is, until one night when he suddenly knocked on her door and asked to enquire her with some questions. She was surprised at the sudden request but let him in her room nonetheless. He sat down on one of the chairs and kept silent.

The artist was getting anxious at the silence until she herself took matter into her own hands. "Why did you come here?" she asked softly. The writer looked up at her and sighed. "I need to ask you some questions" he said.

The artist raised a brow and motioned for the writer to continue with his words. "Do you love him?" he asked. The artist was taken aback by his straightforward question. "I beg your pardon?" she said, not expecting such blunt question to be fired at her.

"Do you love him? That lover of yours, do you love him?" he repeated his question. "Of course I do. I mean, why else would he be my lover if it wasn't for love and the strings of fate to unite us?" she asked back. "Are you sure it's love and not gratitude or infatuation?" the writer asked. 

"Why are you even asking me this?" the artist asked. "Just answer me" he said. "I... I honestly don't know either, I'm lost, confused" she said. "Huh?" he blurts out. "I don't know anymore. At first yes I was really in love with him but now, I'm not so sure that the word love would describe our relationship at the moment" she said.

"Why?" he asked. "There's that voice inside my head, telling me to stop loving him because he's using me, that this means nothing to him. That he's with me not because he loves me but that he was using me all this time" she said also unsure of her feelings for the successful CEO.

"I have a confession to make" the writer said. The artist tilted her head to the side in a curious manner. "I've had nightmares, ever since I saw you and your friends with your lover in the exhibition we first met in" he said. 

"Nightmares? Are you sure? That sounds so comical" she asked and he nods. "It's always the same and whenever something bad is happening to people I know, I usually have them. I just- I'm worried okay?" he said. "What kind of nightmares?" the artist asked, wanting to find out more about the topic.

"It was... absurd, really. It was really weird and doesn't quite makes sense. I dreamed of a girl, betrayed by her lover for another woman. And that girl became depressed and shut herself from anyone in the world" he said. "So tell me, do you really love and trust him... or is it all just a mistake?" he asked.

"I... I don't know" she said. "What do you mean by you don't know?" he asked. "I don't know my own feelings, I don't know if I could trust him I don't know anything! Heck, we haven't even kissed in a whole year!" she screamed frustratingly. The writer was stunned by her sudden outburst, but kept his composure.

"Why did you love him in the first place?" he asked. "He was amazing... he has got the looks, the brains, he's mysterious and a dangerous man but he was also so kind. He was superior to whoever is below him and held so much power, he was decadent as well to be specifically said" she said.

"If you say it in that way... you don't actually love him. It's all just admiration and infatuation. You're charmed by all of his good sides and you didn't know about his bad sides" he said. "And how would you know?" she asked.

"I've been betrayed before, by my past lover. It was high school when we dated and it was near to graduation when we broke up. I found her with another guy, making out in a secluded room. I asked her about it, she said that everything in our relationship was nothing but a stupid bet" he said. 

"She used me, Michelle. She used me for my brains and I fell for it. She never let me go to her house because everything she has hidden was all there. That's why I know what it's like to be betrayed and exactly why I'm telling you this. You do not want to know the feeling of heartbreak" he said.

"If what you said was true, then ask me some more questions. Maybe you'll know by then. Our relationship was because of literature and I want to know if art could break us apart as well" she said. "Very well then" he said.