I opened the door to the art museum and let Nic go in first. We stepped into the main gallery, where we were greeted by a large applause and quite a few camera flashes. I glanced at Nic, sure that half the people got it on camera, and said, "Just smile, Nic." I waved to the people in the room and the flashes stopped.
"What's this?" she asked. "Did people find out you're coming?"
"It's my show."
"What?!"
"Well I consider me a friend of myself," I said to her, still smiling. If there weren't so many people here, I'm sure she would have hit me.
I looked around the room. I was not expecting this many people to be here! There are tons of people here! There's a band playing light classy music and caterers and all these critics wearing their best clothes.
"Mr. Hanson," the owner said, walking over to us, "already you're boasting quite a turnout." He looked at Nic. "Who's this lovely lady?"
"This is Nicole King, my very good friend," I said politely. I really didn't like this guy, but he was allowing me to have this show and keep some of my art here.
"Not a girlfriend?" Nic made a face. Out of habit, I lightly hit her arm and she smiled.
"No, my girlfriend couldn't make it tonight," I said.
"All the work is wonderful, Mr. Hanson. I think 'Nic' has gotten the most offers." I made sure to look away from Nic so she wouldn't question me right away.
"Yes, but that one isn't for sale," I said.
"I wish it was, you'd make a lot of money. When people see it, they want it, and when they hear they can't have it, they want it more. I've heard some pretty interesting offers, but I told all of them to talk to you."
"It's not about the money, it's about me wanting to share my talent with the people around me."
"Well, it's working. Good luck, Mr. Hanson. Not that you need it," he said, then walked away.
"Would that painting happen to have anything to do with me?" Nic asked.
"No, it's about a different Nic that I happen to know," I retorted, lightly rolling my eyes. She smiled, amused. God, I loved that smile.
"I want to see it. Let's go see it. Did you paint a picture of me?" she asked. Duh. "If you did I want to know why." Is she turning stupid? The owner just said 'Nic' was the title, and she's the only Nic I know! Is she turning into Lauryn? Oh God, now I'm thinking about Lauryn. I'm worrying myself sick about her. I don't know where the hell she is or what she's doing, and for all I know she could run into trouble. I hope she doesn't go to the south side, or she'll get killed...Oh God. Think about something else, Zac! You don't want to mess up tonight. Okay, I'll just talk to Nic.
"I painted that a little bit after you left last year. I spend a lot of time on it, I'm not going to say why because I don't want you to know, but it's my 'masterpiece.' "
"Oh really? I'm your masterpiece? Oh, I have to see this now."
"Then I'll show you." I offered her my arm, which she took and we walked casually down the hallway. I couldn't believe the amount of people there. It wasn't at all near like the sold-out stadiums and arenas, but the few hundred people smiling politely was too much for me. I was really starting to get nervous.
"Excellent work, Mr. Hanson," someone said as I passed by.
"Thank you," I said, and kept walking.
"Brilliant artistry," another person complimented. "Sheer genius."
"Thank you," I said again. This was way too much for me. People I don't know are humbly complimenting me! This is really weird. I gripped Nic's hand, trying to get comfort and familiarity back in my system.
"It's okay," she whispered. "I think your show is quite a success."
"Yeah, I guess people like my work."
"Now let me ask this, Zac. When you invited Lauryn, did she know that it was your show? Or was it like me and you weren't going to tell her?"
"No, I told her it was mine."
"And she still didn't go! That is so rude!" Great, not I'm thinking of Lauryn again.
"Well she said she didn't like art at all�whether it was mine or someone else's," I told Nic.
"She still should have at least showed up with you. I mean she's your girlfriend. She should be here at your exhibition."
"Yeah, but I knew you would like it more. And I did not want to spend my night with someone who would just look at my work and in her most annoying voice say, 'I don't get it.' I know she would and then whine because she wanted to go home."
"Do I sense a bit of resentment?" Nic asked. I was still upset with Lauryn, yes, but I didn't resent her. I couldn't, I'm too damn worried about her.
"No," I quickly responded. "Your painting is right around the corner here." We turned the corner and I saw a small crowd gathered around the portrait, covering it. One person turned around and began to clap. The rest turned around and I was received with a humble applause. Once again I gripped Nic's hand. I can't handle this. I can handle screams and faints and crying, but this is too much. This is six of the biggest art critics giving me, a newcomer, an applause. If I don't stop overreacting, I'll start hyperventilating.
"Thank you," I said. The person who started clapping looked at Nic. She smiled and walked over.
"You're the girl from the painting!" she said. "You're Nic."
"Yes I am. My name is Nicole King; I am a good friend of Mr. Hanson's." I grinned at my formal name. "But I actually have yet to see the painting, so if you don't mind moving, please."
"Oh yes, by all means." They parted so she could see. I watched her eyes light up and she studied my painting. Her eyes flickered back and forth, and after a few moments her eyes began to fill up with tears.
"Zac how did you�"
"Don't ask," I interrupted. She tore her eyes from the painting so she wouldn't cry.
"So, Mr. Hanson," one critic began, "what will you take for this piece of art? It certainly is exquisite."
"I'm afraid this one isn't for sale," I said, disappointing them.
"I'll give you twenty cents and a kiss on the cheek," Nic kidded.
"Sold!" I noticed the questioning looks from the critics and Nic's surprised face. "She ruined the surprise. I was going to give it to her."
"Zac, I was joking."
"I still was going to give it to you anyway. Now I'll spare you the twenty cents, but you still owe me a kiss on the cheek," I said.
"Ugh, fine." She kissed my cheek, then looked back at the painting. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." I glanced at my watch. Great, now I have to go make a speech. I knew Nic wanted to see my other work, so I scanned this crowd for someone who would show her around. There's Mike! Mike will do it. "Mike, come over here." Mike walked over. "Mike will show you the other paintings. I have to make a speech."
"Oh, poor Zac."
"I'll see you in a little bit." I kissed her cheek and walked to the front room, where I'd make my speech. I'm turning it mostly into an interview, although I will say a few words before I stop for questions.
When I was back in the front room, I was greeted by another humble applause. I hated every minute of it. I walked to the front of the room, next to the owner who was on a platform.
"Thank you all for coming," he said. "I hope you all are enjoying yourselves. If you haven't gotten a chance to see all the work, there's still time to see it after Mr. Hanson speaks. And with great admiration and praise everyone, Mr. Zachary Hanson."
He stepped off the platform and I stepped up. "First, I'd like to thank all of you for coming and making my first show a success. Now I admit I am not a public speaker in any way, shape, or form, but I do want to say a few words. When I was barely into double digits in age, a great opportunity arose with my brothers and I. The success of our first album gave me the money and the ability to express myself in many different forms. While most people know me for my music, a few years ago I picked up a paintbrush and now you all see the painter side of me. I'm overwhelmed at the success of this, how so many people enjoy my work. The majority of the work here is based on things that have actually happened to me or someone I know. It's why the portraits sell, because I have first hand experience of what I show you. I have no secrets here, everything is given to you on a silver platter. And as I get older, events continue to happen to me and I will continue to have inspiration to paint. I hope that I can share my life with you again someday." I stopped speaking and the audience applauded. When they stopped, I spoke again. "If any of you have any questions, as long as they're within reason of the art show, I'll be glad to answer them." A group of people with cameras came quickly to the front of the audience.
"Mr. Hanson, how did you start painting?"
"I picked up a brush and put it on paper." A humble laugh came over the crowd. "But seriously, it was a few years ago when I had a vision in my head. I'd never really tried any of this before, but I did it and I love it so I kept doing it."
"Are all your portraits based on real life events or did you make up some of them?" someone else asked.
"I make up some of them, but the majority is based on real life. Everything in the west wing, ending with the room with the statue, is true. It's either happened to me or I was just there when it happened. Everything on the east wing is stuff I made up."
"How about your centerpiece, 'Nic?' Where'd you get the idea for that?"
"Everybody just loves my Nic, don't you? That is based on truth; it happened about a year ago when the actual Nic left our tour."
"What tour? Why was she there?"
"My tour with the band every summer. We like having some of our best friends stay with us on the tour. They keep us grounded and give us support when we need it. My brother's wife, Darling, brought Nic along last year."
"Why'd she leave?"
"We're talking about my art here," I said, slightly smirking. "And the reason she left is none of your business."
"How much is it worth?"
"I don't know," I said. "It's pretty popular, I see, and I'm sure a lot of that popularity has to do with the fact that it's not for sale."
"Why isn't it for sale?"
"The portrait will stay here in the museum for the next few weeks, and then it'll be given to the actual Nic herself. It's about her, and I can tell already that it means a lot to her, so she should have it." I looked over the crowd. "Anything else?"
"Are you going to continue painting?"
"Of course I am. I love art, just as much as I love my music. I'll continue to do this until no one else wants to see it, then I'll just slow down."
"Well, Mr. Hanson," the owner said, "we hope that'll be a long time from now." He chuckled. I put on a smile and forced a laugh with him. Heh heh, kiss my ass, I thought.
"I hope so too. Anyone else? Questions?" Nope. Okay, it'll save me breath. I stepped down. A reporter came up to me.
"Mr. Hanson, are you going to talk about the band at all? The success and the current tour?" I shook my head.
"I'm not Zac of Hanson tonight. Tonight isn't about music, it's all about my art. If you have any questions about that, I'd be glad to answer."
"You seem to capture a lot of various emotions in your real life work. I was especially surprised by the one of the beaten child. Was that you?"
"That I'd particularly not care to answer. I know it is about my art, but I'm sure you understand what I mean."
"So you were the boy in the picture?"
"I didn't say that."
"Then you're not."
"I didn't say that either. Now if you'll excuse me, I have guests to attend to." I walked away to a group of people who seemed to be enjoying themselves. "Having a good time?" I asked.
"We're having a wonderful time, Mr. Hanson. You truly are a jack of all trades."
"But a jack of all trades is a master of none," someone else said. "I think he's quite the master of them all. What are you going to do next? Films?"
"I don't think so. I can't act, and as far as directing goes, I wouldn't know where to start."
"I'm sure you'll be the next Oliver Stone, Mr. Hanson. You've got many talents. And you see to be grounded and surprisingly shy."
"I can be very shy, but only the first time," I said. I left the group and went to find more of my admiring public.
"Nic, are you ready to leave?" I asked, walking up to her after I'd finished speaking to basically everyone. She smiled.
"Yeah." She wrapped her arm in mine and we walked out of the museum. I walked her to the car and opened the door for her.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't as fun as it was supposed to be," I said after getting into the car.
"Are you kidding? I had a blast!"
"Really? You're just not saying that?" I asked.
"No, I'm serious. I had a great time with Mike. But�can we not go back to the hotel? I wanted to spend time with you and I never really got to."
"Sure."
"You want to grab some food?" she asked. I nodded and thought of where to go. There was a restaurant we went to a few times here. I don't remember much about it, but we could there anyway.
I pulled up to Ed's (real exquisite dining there, eh?) and we found a table quickly. Despite the name, it was a nice restaurant. So I didn't feel out of place with my suit, I'd discarded my tie already. As we sat down, I asked the inevitable question. "How'd you like my work?"
"Well, frankly Zac, I didn't even know you could paint But, it was among the greatest I've seen." I smiled. That was what I was look for, especially from Nic.
"You don't know how good that feels coming from you."
"Hey, I do what I can," she said. "But, Zac, how did you do that painting of me? You had everything perfect from the white gum on the floor of the cab to the pain I could see in your eyes�you even had my left shoe untied and it was."
"I asked around. I found out Isaac untied your shoe and Darling noticed it as you left."
"How about the position I was in? I was actually like that through most of the ride to the airport." I was not about to tell her that I went as far as tracking down the guy who drove her there, so I had to think of something, quick.
"That was pure coincidence." She smiled. Yay! She believed me!
"It all amazes me so much that you could get things down perfectly like that. I mean me in the picture actually had tears glistening in my eyes," she said. I loved the way she expressed herself. She gesticulated a lot, which is funny because something she even did it on the phone, and even though she rarely looked me in the eye, she was always looking at me.
"I think some of that has to do with you and the way you look at it. Everyone gets something different out of art�any kind of art. Whether it's abstract or still life, or a different kind of art like writing. It's all in the person's feelings and emotions and the way that you perceive things. You probably went back to the day that you left and you saw your pain and you saw my pain because that's how we were feeling at the time."
"You're too philosophical for me," she said, lightly laughing.
"No I'm not. I'm just smarter than you," I joked.
"Oh thanks. That makes me feel better." The waitress came around. "You know what I want," she said. Of course I knew what she wanted, she ordered the same thing every single time.
"Keep talking, I'm listening," I said, then began to order our food.
"I noticed the same situation with you other art," she said. "I knew a lot of those scenes you painted and they all appealed to me in the same way. Another one I really liked was your scene with Amber on the balcony with the needle in her arm."
"Yeah, that one sold pretty quickly," I said, letting out a wowed breath. That night was just weird. I was scared out of my mind that Amber was just going to jump the ledge and kill herself. At that point in the tour, I still had a lot of feelings for Amber. I loved her a lot. I still love her a lot. Amber and I had something really great, but now we don't talk. She's not here this year so I can't even try to make amends.
"She was really high that night," Nic said.
"Yeah, I thought she was going to kill herself." I didn't want to think about it, though. Right now I was too confused about Nic and Lauryn that I couldn't even bring Amber into the picture.
There was a time when Amber was a good person. If you could even fathom that, there was a time when being in love with her went past the great rack and the fact that she could fuck your brains out. But, she was good before she was high all the time. Everyone was good before they got high all the time. We're getting back to that, but getting back to that means getting rid of the girls. With the girls came drugs, and with the drugs came all the bad things. I'm not ready to get rid of my girls. I love my girls. There's only three of them, but three of them have enough to still mess things up.
"So," Nic said, obviously trying to change the subject. We'd both been affected by Amber, generally in the same way but specifically different. "How much did you sell?"
"Just about every one. I sold all the ones I wanted to sell. The only ones that weren't sold were the ones I wanted to keep."
"Are you really giving me that one painting? You could have sold that thing for so much money." I nearly snorted. Like I need any more money.
"But I don�t want the money. I wanted you to have it."
"I didn't mean keep the money for yourself. You could have sold it then given me all the money." Maybe I could. Every one that concerned her, I could give her the money. I was about to agree when she spoke again. "No, I wouldn't want you to sell it. It's so beautiful, I can't believe you're giving it to me."
"We're going to keep it in the gallery for a few weeks, then it's going to be shipped to your place. I'd just give it to you, but knowing you�you'd lose it. I know how you are with valuable items."
"Hey, I still have that jewelry you gave me," she said. I looked at her. She was wearing it, proof she had them in her possession.
"Yeah, but that's two weeks. Let me know if you still have it at the end of the tour," I told her.
"I'll still have it." Yeah right.
"I can bet you anything you won't."
"Oh really?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I just might have to take you up on that offer." She thought about it. "Okay, if I win, you have to cut your hair." What?! Was she insane? I saw her giggle at my surprise, and I hadn't said anything yet.
"Cut my hair?" I squeaked, gripping my hair in my hands. "Why my hair?"
"It's getting too long." My lower lip protruded, quivering. I was ready to cry! And I don't cry! "You said anything."
"I didn't think you'd want me to cut my hair! I love my hair! How much do I have to cut off? All of it?" If it was all of it, I was walking away from this bet.
"No, but it does have to be significantly shorter. Above your shoulders."
"But..."
"Just once. And it'll grow back, I promise." At least it wasn't all of it, but I still pouted. If she was going to make me do this, I had to do something worthwhile.
"Fine. If I win, which I will because I'm not cutting my hair, you have to break up with Taylor and go out with me." Oh, I am so good. But, I can't believe I just said that. Did somebody spike my water? I think somebody spiked my water.
"Deal." She held out her hand. "Shake or I won't do it." Did I really want to do this? What the hell...it wouldn't hurt.
"Okay." We shook hands. So, before the tour ends, I have to steal some of her jewelry so I can win.
"How are you and Taylor doing anyway? I see a break up in your future."
"Well, I don't," she said, sticking out her tongue. "We're doing good. We did have a fight earlier, but we're better now. I gave him some time to cool off."
"Big fight? What about?" I know I'm prying where I shouldn't be, but I'm nosy.
"I don't even know anymore. All I know is that it wasn't that important." She was lying. I could tell by the way she kept gnawing on her breadstick. Why do I have a feeling it was about me?
Because maybe you're right...
Maybe I am. But I'll find out later.