The Accidental Hacker

Chapter Three

AN: I’m glad people are enjoying this. It’s the first thing I’ve written since my favourite dog died suddenly, she was so intelligent and loving, she was like a child to me and I’ve been blocked ever since. I’ve never not been able to write before, not even when I was being stalked, and writing is how I deal with life’s problems, so I’ve been a total mess. I thought I’d break myself back in slowly with this little fantasy, so it’s great to know this has been so well received. :)

Chapter Three

I heard my computer beep to signal that I had an email and I picked my up phone up, hopeful that it was an order. The work I did paid the bills but I didn’t have much of a nest egg to fall back on, so each month as rent day approached, I became tense. I was still about a hundred shy of having Decembers rent.

Sometimes I wondered if choosing art as my career hadn’t been the worst decision of my life since, while I was doing what I loved, there was zero job security. Maybe those people who sit behind a desk for eight hours a day were onto something; they had a regular pay cheque coming in, after all, and they didn’t have to slog through the self-assessment tax form once a year.

I love my life, really I do, but I would love it even more if I sold a few more paintings each month.

I have considered leaving London and moving to somewhere cheaper, but part of me still hopes to be discovered by a gallery. Of course, it’s been about two years now since I took the time or trouble to cart my paintings to galleries. There’s only so much rejection my poor heart can take and while painting Fluffy might not be considered fine art, at least the people who commissioned me liked my work.

As I picked my phone up, I wondered what my new friend would make of my paintings, and it turned out that the email was from him.

‘My darling Dr Horrible, your paintings are as exquisite and beautiful as you. You really should consider exhibiting in a gallery. While I am no expert, I’m certain that there is more than enough room in the art world for someone with your talent.

Yours with utmost sincerety,

Capt. Hammer’

He really was kind of sweet, in an adorkable way.

I clicked reply. ‘Been there, done that, got rejected.’

It didn’t take long for a reply to come back.

‘You can’t give up, you have to keep trying. How many times do you think I’ve been turned down or acting jobs?’

I smiled. He was right.

‘I hear you’re a shoo in for hind legs of the donkey this year.’

That was a bit glib, even for bitchy old me, so I immediately typed another reply.

‘Sorry, you hit a bit close to home with that. I guess that now I’m paying my bills, I’m not as hungry, and not as willing to face rejection. But you are right, I should keep trying.’

‘You really should, I think you’re very talented.’

‘Thank you. This might be easier by text, so here’s my mobile number, 07XXX XXX XXX’

The next time my phone beeped, it was with a text message from an unknown number.

‘So you’ll give me your phone number but not your name?’

‘Harri. My name Harri. I would have thought Harriet’s Pets might have given you a clue. Can I know your name?’

‘Thomas. Call me Tom.’