Nick Gabrichidze
                                                                                                                       Ken Gregg

                                                             TWISTED FATE

Copyright: Nick Gabrichidze, Ken Gregg
                  

About copyright inquiries please contact Nick Gabrichidze, PB 194 Brussel 1, 1000 Brussels, Belguim
Tel + 31 6 10 962 863,
                                                                                                                                                                        

  It all began when Lisa and Tom packed up and moved from a small town in Idaho to Los Angeles. Lisa felt that time was running out in the pursuit of her American Dream and brought Tom along since he had absolutely nothing else going for him. Tom on the other hand was a small town loser that tagged along for support thinking of the whole thing like some vacation he had coming to him. Lisa knew that Tom wasn't worth much but after a couple of years together, she felt attached. They had very little money to get situated and needed to be careful.

As they drove closer to the city, Lisa couldn't help notice the sunset reflecting off the skyscrapers that lit up the sky. She told Tom to head downtown because it seemed like the perfect place to start. Along the way she was fascinated by the unbelievable amount of traffic in motion and the futuristic design of the freeway system. In the distance was a beautiful view of the Hollywood sign that she often saw in pictures and in her dreams. It was part of her destiny to be there, she thought, as a chill of inspiration ran down her spine. She finally made it to the fortress of opportunities and was ready to conquer it. Excited like a schoolgirl in the glory of a first affair, she leaned up and stuck her head out of the sunroof and smiled while she looked around with her hair blowing in the wind. Then Tom found their destination and pulled over at some sleazy run down motel where they checked in.

The following day Lisa was up early and out late trying to find a job with no success. When she finally came home, Tom was passed out on the chair with his pants down holding a half empty can of "Coors". Lisa knew by the mess that something very wrong took place. The room was trashed and stunk like alcohol and cigarettes. There were beer cans scattered all over the place and an empty bottle of "Jack Daniel's" on a stand next to the bed. The bed was completely messed up with sheets that looked used. On the table she saw an ashtray loaded with cigarette butts and next to it was a beer on its side that spilled onto the carpet. When Lisa walked into the bathroom she found half a joint on the counter and some pink G-string panties on the floor next to the toilet. She stormed out in a rage and tried to wake Tom. She shook, slapped and yelled but he wouldn't budge. Lisa noticed the “L.A. weekly” magazine on the floor opened to the exotic part of the classified section. She picked it up and knew exactly what had happened. Shocked and upset, she threw the magazine at Tom and began clearing the bed. After her long and now devastating day, she just wanted to lay down. Lisa pushed the blanket aside then ripped off the sheets. She noticed that they were soiled and began to feel sick. As she threw the sheets into the corner a used condom flew out and landed on her wrist. Lisa began to cry and ran to the bathroom. She dropped the condom in the toilet then washed her hands and wrist. Lisa grabbed some towels from the rack and took them to the bed using them as sheets. Afterwards she laid down and cried herself to sleep.
   
The next morning when that loser boyfriend of hers woke up she gave it all to him.
"What's this Tom? What the hell happened?"
"Calm down Lisa. I have a headache. Not now." He could hardly speak because of a hangover.
"What? I'm out all day busting my ass for work while your having a good time?"
"Honey nothing really happened. It's not what you think."
"What am I supposed to think," she yelled, holding up the G-string panties.
"I don't think they cleaned the room Lisa," he kept justifying himself. "Those were already here."
"I found a used condom in the messy bed you liar. Was that already here too?" She threw the panties at Tom then started packing.
"Come on Lisa," he said. "Don't take it like this. Lisa?"
"I'm not putting up with your crap anymore," said Lisa, while searching for her purse. "Tom, where's my purse?"
"Where did you leave it Lisa?"
"Right here Tom." She was searching frantically.
"If you put it there it must be there."
"It's not here!" she said throwing Tom his pants. "What really happened Tom, the money is gone."
Tom kneeled down and looked under the bed then stood up and explained.
"I invited some people in for a few drinks."
"What kind of people. Girls? These girls?" she said holding up the magazine.
"Yes."
"I'm calling the cops!"
"Wait, we don't need any trouble. Let me make a phone call."
He picked up the magazine and walked over to the phone.
"Damn it!" screamed Lisa desperately.

When Tom tried to call the girls back he hit a dead end when an answering machine picked up. His only other option was to jump in the car and drive across town to the "L.A. weekly" office where he might get enough information and track them down. They packed up and drove away. The traffic was bumper to bumper and it took a while. When they arrived Tom explained to the receptionist what happened and the woman gave him an address to some escort service. They sat in traffic some more before their arrival to a post office box. There was nothing that they could do at this point except move on.

  After a miserable day of getting nowhere, Lisa mentioned that she was hungry. Tom pulled into a parking structure next to a diner and parked. They walked in and sat down. Lisa ordered a standard hamburger combo and Tom the same. When the food arrived, Tom loaded up his fries with extra mustard. Lisa couldn't stand his taste for mustard. He called it the Tommy special.
After the bill was placed on the table, Tom spoke giving Lisa a blank look.
"How much do you have?"
"Ten bucks. How much do you have, Tom?"
"Three dollars," he declared pulling out his money, "and sixty two cents."
"It's not enough!" she said frightened.
"Shhh, we need gas money. You walk out first, start the car and wait. I'll be right there. "
"Are you out of your mind!"
"Trust me, it will work." Tom seemed very sure of himself. "I see it all the time."
"You stupid ass."
Lisa walked out to the car with no trouble while Tom went into the restroom. After a few minutes Tom came out and headed for the front door in a casual manner. The moment he touched the door the waitress spoke.
"Excuse me, sir? Your bill."
"Uhh, yeah. I left my wallet in the car. Just a minute, I'll be right back."
Tom opened the door and walked out. He ran to the car, jumped in and gave her a command.    
"Step on it."

Lisa pulled up to the parking attendant. The middle-eastern man spoke.
"One dollar."
Lisa grabbed her ashtray of change and emptied it out. In a hurry, she handed attendant the change without counting it. He took it and began to slowly count the coins while other cars behind them started lining up. In the distance a couple of employees from the diner were walking around the lot looking for Tom and Lisa. The parking attendant looked over at her.
"Your short three pennies."
"There's one dollar there."
"No, your three pennies short."
Tom looked back and noticed the employees from the diner closing in on them. Tom and Lisa were spotted because of the cars that honked in line. Tom looked over at the attendant.
"Three cents you son of a bitch? Here," he roared throwing him a dime, "keep the change you bastard and let us the hell out of here!"
The parking attendant began to let them out, but saw the people from the diner too. He quickly closed the gate and said, "not so fast." Tom then opened the door as he looked at Lisa and yelled, "run!"  They jumped out and ran away in opposite directions.

It was evening as Lisa ran into the unknown streets thinking that she was being chased. As she turned around the corner, she bumped into some man who was at a doorway ready to enter, carrying some groceries. Lisa caused his bags to drop.
"I'm sorry!" she said picking up his groceries. "Let me help you."
The man looked at her and replied, "Sure, come in." They entered the building and Lisa looked back relieved to have found a temporary place to hide out. The stranger asked her name and she responded. He introduced himself as Fabrice and slammed the heavy iron door behind them.  As they walked up the metal stairway, each of their step echoed throughout the facility. The single light bulb inserted on the wall was lighting the way, but the rest of the building was dark and hard to see. Everything was clean, but for some reason she had a feeling that the facility was abandoned. They approached a wooden door painted with strange "star-trek" style ornaments. Lisa felt an impulse to stop and have a better look, but as he unlocked the door she had to step in. The loft she entered was very large and industrial like. A reflection of the moon projected itself through a small skylight that revealed very little light. She could only see huge metal pipes that ran across the walls and sheets of painted aluminum, which covered the ceiling in a variety of colors. The moment Fabrice turned the lights on, heavy iron chandeliers exposed the true magic of the place. She noticed the artistically painted images and ornaments that covered the concrete walls interacting with one another, catching her eye and hypnotizing her. Color shape was changing from burnt sienna to the blue cobalt and golden ochre tones. The bright floral ornament was following the walls uniting all images into one peace of art. The biggest wall in the room had carefully painted images of dancing people, projecting an unusually joyful spirit.
"Wow, what's this?" she asked.
"Do you like it?"
"Yeah," she said sincerely. Lisa was truly amazed as he continued.
"It's my artwork," he proudly answered.
"Really! Your an artist?"
"Sure I am," he said with a smile.
"I've never seen anything so magical in my life."
"Thank you," he replied while walking to the fridge. Fabrice grabbed a beer and opened it.  
"What does all of this mean?" she asked.
"What, my art? It doesn't have a meaning. If you look at it long enough, you'll get the message."
"I don't get it."
"You will."
After observing the artwork for a while, Lisa noticed an antique phone on a small table. She needed to find a reason to stay longer and a vague phone call may do it.
"Can I use your phone real quick?"
"Go ahead," he answered.
Lisa picked up the phone and pretended to use it while she held down the receiver.
"I'm ok, my car broke down. Can you pick me up later? Meet me at that diner we were at yesterday. Ok, seeya at ten. Love you too, bye."
Lisa put the phone down and looked at Fabrice.
"Boyfriend?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"Does he live in the area?"
"Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't make a long distance call."
"You can't make any kind of call Lisa. The phone is dead."
Lisa was shocked as he gave her the eye. Suddenly she felt unsafe. She thought that it might be better out on the street.
"Oh, It's getting late. I, I need to go! It was nice meeting you, bye. Have a nice evening."
Lisa nervously tried to open the door but had some trouble because of the deadbolt that required a key on both sides.
"Yeah it is getting late," said Fabrice approaching the door. "Are you sure you want to go. It's unsafe out there."
"I'm ok, thanks," she said.
"Alright, if you insist."
Fabrice pulled a key from out of his shirt pocket then unlocked the door and opened it. Lisa ran out of the building and back onto the streets.

It was dark and seemed deserted. The only light she could see came from a few scattered lampposts standing along the sidewalk.  As she walked underneath the small circles of light, she had a strange sense that someone was watching her from the dark. Across the street she saw a public phone and jogged over to it prepared to make a collect call. In front of the phone was a homeless man who appeared to be sleeping.  Lisa slowly walked up and looked at him.
"Excuse me. Hey. Can I use the phone?"
"Hi baby, you can use my phone, anytime. My name is Barry and I think I love you. How's about given me a kiss? Gimmee a kiss baby, you can use my phone. Come on, where you going. Will you marry me? Come back and use my phone! I love you baby!"
Lisa quickly walked away feeling like there were thousands of eyes observing her from around. She noticed some shadows across the street and heard a whisper as she passed by.
The smell of fried food and gasoline filled the warm and sticky air while garbage covered the streets and sidewalks. Out of nowhere, a black man with dreadlocks suddenly appeared.
"Hey sister, good evening. Listen, I just got out of the hospital and I'm trying to get home. Can you spare a dollar so I can catch the bus?"
"I don't have a dollar. No, I'm sorry."
"I just got out of the hospital, I can't stay out here all night! Please help me sister, please!"
Lisa felt that it wouldn't hurt to help. Maybe someone might help her.
"I only have a ten," she said while pulling it out. "Let's change it at that taco stand over there."
"God bless you sister," he replied while grabbing the ten. "Thankyou! This will do just fine, seeya!"
"No wait! That's all I have. You misunderstood, wait!"
The black man disappeared into the night. Meanwhile, at the taco stand, some guy all dressed up and enjoying his tacos, witnessed everything. As Lisa approached he swallowed a piece of food and spoke.
"Hey girl. You want some real money? Come with me baby, I'll make your sweet ass rich. My bitches roll in the dough. Come on, It's ok. I'm not going to bite. I wanna help. I'll take real good care of you."
Lisa immediately understood the situation and fled.                                                                        
"Hey, wait a minute!! Come back here!!" he yelled then whispered to himself, "Damn."
Within five minutes, Lisa was back at the artist's studio.

The entrance to the building was unlocked. As she walked up the stairs, Lisa tried to figure out her options. It seemed like the only way to go. Upstairs.
She knocked on the door and Fabrice let her in as if he was expecting her.
"Hello again. I'm kind of lost and I don't know what to do," she said humbly.
"Please come in. You'll be alright here."
"I'm so sorry," she said walking in, "Thanks."
"Have a seat and relax," he said.
"I hope I'm not bothering you. I...."
Fabrice cut her off.
"It's ok, just make yourself comfortable. Would you like some tea?"
"I'm ok, thanks."
"This is not your ordinary tea you know," he said preparing the drink. “It's a special chinese recipe from ancient times. They say that it helps people when they are lost."
He passed her a cup full anyway. The taste of the tea was strong and unusual. Fabrice sat opposite to her and kept talking.
"So, where are you from?"
"Idaho," she replied.
"You must be a tourist?"
"I'm an actress and have a few things going on."
Lisa felt that she was losing contact with reality. It crossed her mind that he may have drugged her tea, but thought it was because of her stressful day. 
"Ah, so your an actress. Have I seen you in anything?" asked Fabrice.
Ignoring the sleepiness, she tried to answer him hardly moving her tongue.
"I did this commercial back home, but I look different now."
"I wish you luck."
"Yeah," she replied dosing off, "me too."
Lisa knew now that Fabrice must have drugged her tea as she fell asleep.

When she woke up, the environment had changed. She was in another room. This one had a hypnotic theme to it. There were black lights all around enhancing the artwork that created an unusually peaceful atmosphere. The door was locked and Lisa felt trapped. Screaming, yelling and banging was all she could do. Meanwhile, Fabrice was busy cooking breakfast for two, having a great time while singing along to his favorite opera music. When the food that he prepared was all ready to eat, Fabrice walked in the other room to check on her. As he opened the door, Lisa went wild. She rushed out and started tearing the place up, crushing everything she could reach. Fabrice took a seat and watched her while remaining calm, like watching a movie on the television. Lisa began calling Fabrice bad names and demanded to be set free. She couldn't get out because of the locked deadbolt. Amused, Fabrice enjoyed the show. Out of frustration, she attacked him. Fabrice immediately picked Lisa up and slammed her down in a powerful direct fashion. He kept her down in a cradle position, exhausting her effort of attack. He then looked into Lisa's eyes, as she looked back into his, unable to move. She accepted his control and felt that the day she feared the most her whole life had finally come. Was that the look of a rapist in those eyes, she thought. Was this the beginning of something that would end my life as I know it. I have never seen this kind of hunger in a man's eyes. This is it. This is my worst nightmare come true. Fabrice in that moment surprisingly lifted himself up off of her and walked over to his stereo to play some more music. Lisa crawled over to a corner and began to cry.

Fabrice sat down to eat. "You'll feel better if you put something in your stomach," he suggested, inviting her to join him. "You need to eat. I know you must be hungry Lisa."
There was no response from Lisa while he enjoyed his breakfast. Fabrice continued talking. "If you have no appetite, it's ok. Lunch will be here in no time and you don't have to ask, just help yourself."
  Still no response from Lisa.
"The coffee machine is right here and there's "Pepsi" in the fridge if you want. You should really get comfortable since your going to be here a while. If you get bored, have a look around and enjoy the paintings."
He finished his meal and started to clean the dishes.
"Just don't break anything. What a mess. Are you always this way when you visit friends?”
After finishing with the dishes, he began to straighten up the disaster that Lisa made. "I'll take care of this, but next time you'll have to do the cleaning. Ok?"
Lisa gazed out the window observing the city in motion, ignoring him. It didn't seem to bother Fabrice that she remained silent. Fabrice enjoyed her company.
"You should really take a look at these paintings," he said pointing around. "This is where it all begins. Yeah, it was about five years ago and there was this girl. An art critic. We used to hang out together and became a little too close. My work was much more commercial back then. She was involved with these people from Bergamont Station. If you don't know, Bergamont Station is a snobby complex of galleries down in Santa Monica. She was upset with bringing me there and introducing me to those people. The whole idea was to help me with my art. I started hanging around the place, attending opening after opening, shaking hands and making connections. She seemed to know how to schmooze with the right people. I had to swallow my jealousy while she hung all over the one's that could be useful for my promotion. You know what she said? She said it doesn't matter if you’re good or bad. It's the connections that matter, because art is only about business and politics. Well, finally she landed me an assignment. You think it was some successful exhibition of nice pictures? Wishful thinking. You know what it was? It was an import/export business and it wasn't art. Of course there was the facade of it all. The artwork was present as a container for the purpose of the coke. They used to transport the stuff inside the artwork, mostly objects for installation, then set up an exhibition for the people who knew about it. Yeah, they had to destroy the artwork in order to get their prize out and that's when I would come into the picture. I was to make duplicates of the original art as a cover up. They called it the buy one get one free deal. So when I decided to back out of the project at the last minute, I also destroyed the duplicates and pissed off the wrong people, including her. Before she left me, she said that losers like myself never get anywhere. They have to die first before they make it big. She also said that I screwed with the wrong crowd and that I might just make it big sooner than I thought. I decided not to take any chances after that and sort of disappeared. Well, here I am. I haven't seen or heard from any of them. Now I live in peace creating this artwork for myself. No art critic to make stupid comments, and no ignorant public to make incompetent suggestions. Fine don't you think?"
"Can I go now," she replied.
"Not until you eat something."
"So after I eat you'll let me out."
"I'll think about it," he said. "If your a good girl."
It seemed he was ready to let her go. Lisa felt more comfortable.
"Do you have a bathroom here?"
"Yes."
"Can I use it?"
"Of course," he smiled. "Follow me." He led the way and opened a door that was camouflaged with paint. "You have a choice," said Fabrice "There or there."
"What the hell is this?" she asked.
"The shower and the toilet," he answered pointing at each. "Take your pick."
Lisa stood there for a moment dumbfounded by the unique design of the restroom then went in.
Never before had she seen a restroom like this. The two long corridors were connected to the doorway forming an L shape. The ceiling was high and the corridors were narrow. The toilet was at one end and a bathtub at the other. A seven foot long pipe extended itself upwards from the toilet to a medium size water tank. Hanging from the tank was a long metal chain that had a small skull attached to it. The bathtub rested on four legs and looked very old-fashion with a pipe that extended up for the shower. The walls were painted gray and the ceiling black. Medieval lamps gave light to the room while oriental ornaments gave it color. The concrete floor was dark with unusual patterns of art. 
After using the toilet, she pulled the chain that flushed it. The sound was extremely loud.                 
"You done?" asked Fabrice from outside. Without responding Lisa walked out. He then took her back to the studio room where she stood by the window.
"I'm ready to eat," she said.
"It's about time. I can hear your stomach from over here."
"What can I have?" she asked walking towards the kitchen.
"Anything you want. Open the fridge and have a look."
She did as Fabrice said and opened the fridge.  Lisa took some food out and prepared it.     
"Hey, how about a fork and knife."
Fabrice pulled out some plastic utensils and handed them to her.
"Thanks," she said sarcastically with a smile.
"You weren't expecting sharp silverware were you?" asked Fabrice.
"Don't be afraid of me. I'm actually beginning to enjoy this place."
"Really," he replied. "Good. Then you'll stay longer. I like you here." He seemed very satisfied.
"Yeah," she said. "I'll just go shopping for a few things and meet you back here in, I don't know, two hours?"
Lisa finished her food and headed for the door thinking she was out of there.
"Get real," he said with a laugh.
"You said I could leave after I ate something. Well I ate, so let me go!"
"I said that I would think about it and I did," explained Fabrice. "You’re staying."
"What do you want from me!" she demanded.       
"Good question. Right now I just want your company, but I'm not sure about later. Can I get back to you on that one.

Feeling betrayed, she went back over to the window and stood there looking out. Fabrice was now busy cleaning his artistic equipment and going through some papers. He was keeping to his daily routine as if nothing extraordinary was going on.
  Through the dirty glass, Lisa could see the busy city. People of all kinds were passing back and forth. Across the street a group of Mexicans were gathered near a taco stand drinking "Corona" while businessmen and women in the distance walked towards the skyscrapers. An L.A.P.D. car slowly passed by the Mexicans and did nothing. A young black couple by the telephone were kissing, when the cops turned on their lights and harassed them. The streets were jammed full of cars, and every few minutes the orange and white MTA bus stopped at the corner, picking people up and letting them off.  Civilization was outside those windows, and Lisa wanted a part of it. She knew that Fabrice was not playing with a full deck and had to carefully think of a way out.

  After a couple of hours, Fabrice finally finished with his business and shuffled through some more of his music to keep the opera going. Lisa spent the rest of the day looking out the window as she desperately tried to brainstorm a game plan. After the sunset, she walked around the room trying to understand the big message in his art. Fabrice was close by and watching her every move, changing one CD after another. Lisa couldn't stand his taste of music and felt like swinging a bat to it. She could only take so much before pulling her hair out and it was just about that time.
"Is this all you listen to or is today some kind of special occasion or something?!"
"I like Traviata but I'm not a big opera fan. I also listen to some pieces from Puchini and Wagner," he said with an intonation of a school teacher. "But I'm open to a variety of music. For example, if I put some Mornteverdi or Four Seasons on, it will calm my nerves. And yes, today is a special occasion, or something."
The music seemed to be a great subject to hold a conversation, while she set herself up for some kind of escape. She decided to play friendly.
"Do you have anything else? Something I might like?"
"Maybe," he said opening a large cabinet. "Come, take a look."
Images of tigers in the jungle were painted on the cabinet.
"Sorry I asked," Lisa said as she approached his wide variety of music.
"What?" Fabrice seemed surprised.
"It's just so massive. Looks like someone robbed a record store."
Fabrice laughed.
"You can say I like my choice of music." He picked up some old records.
"You have a record player?" she asked.
"Oh yeah, a very old one. I can show you later."
Lisa browsed through his collection with a smile and picked up a CD.
"I don't believe it!" she said excited. "This is my favorite. Can you put it on?"                                    
"As soon as Traviata is finished, I will."
Fabrice looked at Lisa and she smiled at him, then walked around and studied the paintings some more pretending to get comfortable. Fabrice pulled out Lisa's selection and played it. She began to get into it and moved a little. It was George Michael.
"Dance with me," she said while approaching him.
"No, no, I'm fine. You keep dancing."
Fabrice didn't seem to completely trust her friendliness. He walked to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine.
"Come on, don't you like the music?" Lisa won't leave him alone. "Dance with me."
"You dance fine by yourself," he said pouring himself a glass. "I like to watch. Your good."
"Can I have some?"
"Have what? Oh, you want some wine," he said walking over to the sofa and sitting, "Are you old enough to drink?"
"Very funny," she replied, "Don't be such a jerk."
"How about asking politely," he suggested while enjoying himself.
"May I please have some wine?" she asked.
"Yes you may," he answered. He then picked up a glass for her.
"Thank you," Lisa said as he poured. "Cheers!"
Fabrice said nothing as their glasses hit. Lisa knew that she had to relax him and win his trust.
"Come on Fabrice, let’s dance!"
"No, I'm fine."
"Don't you know how to dance?"
"I'm not much of a dancer. Never really learned how."
"Let me show you. It's fun," she replied setting her glass down. "I will lead."

Lisa reached her hand out to Fabrice and he took it. The two of them became close to one another while dancing, then suddenly kissed. They began to feel each other up when Lisa discretely took the key from his shirt pocket that she hoped would be there. In the heat of the moment, Lisa tripped Fabrice and he fell back on his ass. She ran to the door, unlocked it and was on her way out. Her last minute plan worked and she was back on the streets. This time there was a mad-man after her named Fabrice.

It was night once again and she was frightened especially knowing that Fabrice was after her. Lisa began running through the empty streets towards the shinning towers of the business district. The whole place seemed totally deserted like a ghost town. Buildings were all lit up, but there was no sign of any normal activity. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her shoes knocking on the sidewalk. A few expensive cars raced by so fast that she didn't have time to react. Lisa kept her eyes peeled for a public phone so she could call 911, but found nothing. As she ran past the entrance of a "Macy's" department store, some phones from inside were visible. She banged on the door, but nobody answered. It was too dangerous to stay there any longer with Fabrice on the prowl. She ran under a futuristic, illuminated bridge, which was connecting two sophisticated skyscrapers together. Lisa wanted access to the buildings and began searching for an entrance, but there were walls of concrete surrounding the bridge with no obvious way up. She continued running through the empty streets and looked back a few times to see if Fabrice was after her. She couldn't see much in the dark but noticed an entrance to a underground parking lot and rushed towards it. The gate was closed. Lisa tried to shake the metal bars as hard as she could, trying to get some attention, but nobody bothered. She walked around the building to the other side and it happened to be a "Kinko's" copy house, so she ran in.
"Hello," she yelled, "hello!?" It seemed that the copy house was also deserted. All the equipment was on, but nobody was home.
"Is there anyone here, hello? Hey! Damn it!" Lisa felt like a sitting duck. If Fabrice was close by he could easily walk in and get her so she ran back out on the streets through the labyrinth of downtown. As she turned around a corner, an MTA bus was at a stop. Lisa ran over and jumped on the bus. The driver looked at her and waited for the fare. She was out of breath.
"Hi, there's a man after me. Can you get me out of here?" Lisa was almost crying.
The driver closed the door and began to pull away.
"$1.35 or $1.60 with transfer," he demanded.
"No," explained Lisa, "you don't understand. I don't have any money and I'm in danger. Some weirdo is after me. Please help me, please!"  
Showing no emotion, the driver stopped the bus and opened the door.
"Sorry, no one rides for free. Get off."
The only passenger on the bus was a homeless bum. He felt like talking.
"Come on lady, let's go. Move it. We have a schedule to keep and your holding us up. Come on, get out of here."
"But, but..."
The bum stood up and shoved her out.
"But nothing," he said. "Get off!"
"Get your hands off me you stinky bastard!" Lisa tried to resist but found herself back on the street. The bum waved his hand from inside the bus and yelled out the window.
"Bye-bye now!"
"Fuck you!" she screamed as the bus drove away.
Meanwhile, Fabrice was watching everything from an overpass. Lisa looked around and noticed him looking right at her. In fear she ran away with Fabrice close behind. In the distance was a police car parked in an alley. She ran in that direction and almost reached it, when some other police cars sped around the corner driving right past her along with a helicopter shinning it's light. The parked car's lights immediately turned on and joined the pursuit.              
Exhausted and out of breath, Lisa collapsed on the stairs of a "City Bank" building. Fabrice walked over, lit up a cigarette, and watched her cry for a few minutes. He then picked her up over his shoulder and walked back to his place. He put Lisa down in one of his other rooms and chained her up in shackles. Fabrice walked to the door and turned around. He looked at her then shut the door and left.

Lisa spent the night falling in and out of consciousness. The next day she was awaken by the sound of music coming from speakers inside the room. Moments later the door opened, then immediately slammed shut. It was two pieces of toast and a bottle of water being served to her like some kind of animal trapped in a cage. Lisa ate the food and waited helplessly for what was next.

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The room she found herself in now was also painted. Unfriendly, cruel images covered the walls. The realistically painted giant snake was zigzagging all around the room with its scary head staring at Lisa from the ceiling. Just opposite of her, Lisa could see an image of a human figure wrapped up in rope with a dark black hole that replaced the face. The figure was reaching out to her. Surrounding the room were gothic ornaments, images of fire and dark silhouettes, looking like a sinners dungeon in hell. Everything was painted in depressing cold colors of blue, gray, dark green and black.
 
Hours later, Fabrice entered the room in a good mood carrying an average size bag and an old fashion record player. He sat the bag down on a small bench and placed the record player on the floor then turned it on. To the sound of very dramatic choral music, he opened the bag and removed a couple of knives and some other utensils. Lisa was frightened.
"What are you going to do," she asked crying. "Why are you doing this to me."
He pulled a mechanism attached to her chains, which forced her up against the wall. Lisa kept pleading with him.
"Please don't, why me. Don't do this to me, please."
Lisa was standing up spread eagle chained and shackled, when Fabrice selected a scalpel and approached her. She panicked.
"No don't! Please," she screamed. "I'll do anything, please don't kill me, please."
Fabrice used the scalpel to gently cut her dress off. Next he cut her bra and then her panties. He reached into his bag and pulled out some assorted paints. Acting very calm and sophisticated, Fabrice took his brush and began to paint his latest work. He started painting Lisa's naked body beginning with her forearms. Realistic floral ornaments with leaves and flowers came down onto both of her hands while swords of a knight were painted to her legs.
"What are you doing," she whispered. "Wait, stop it. I'm ticklish."
It tickled her a little but was very relaxing until Fabrice moved towards her breasts. Two lotus flowers covered each of the breasts. Purple on the left and pink on the right with circles of bronze that covered her nipples.
"What are you doing to me," she said calmly.
He started on her mid-section and by that time Lisa was angry, but loved it. A Celtic ornament came down her spine and developed thru the mid-section integrating with flowers at her breasts, completing the composition. As Fabrice finished the masterpiece, he gathered all his things, took a few photographs and walked away from her.
"Wait," she said, "where are you going? Wait a minute, don't go."
"Find the hidden key and you will see where I am going," he said then walked out of the room.
  This now became a game that Lisa wanted to play. Before searching for a key, she had to spend some time pulling herself together. As her arousal slowly went away, she quickly observed the room. Dragons, chimeras and all kind of monsters were all around her, but she could see no key.  She looked at the wall that she was chained to. The image there was different. It was a large spiral made out of mosaics and little shiny peaces of metal. She carefully looked at it and noticed that one of the pieces looked like an old fashioned key. She tried to reach the key, but a chain stopped her hand just a few inches short of it. Music began to play through speakers, while Lisa shook and twisted her naked, painted body, trying to reach the key.
 
Lisa finally discovered the trick to free her self from the room. After struggling for more than an hour, she repeated the movement of the painted snake, which enabled her to reach the key from a very awkward position. Free from the restraints, her adrenaline began to flow. She carefully snooped around the house in her full body paint suit holding the restraints. Lisa picked up an artists knife and tip toed into Fabrice’s room. He was lying down on his bed with his eyes closed. She quietly crawled over to him and quickly locked him in the restraints. He allowed this to happen, as he was expecting her. Lisa jumped up and cradled him in a sexual manner. It seemed for the moment that he would have his way with her. At this point, with rage in her eyes, Lisa put the knife to his throat. Fabrice showed fear in his eyes, as the table turned. Lisa grabbed a pillow and shoved it right into his face, apparently suffocating him.

Lisa took a long hot shower and cried as she washed her body of the paint. She dried herself off and looked in the closet for some compatible clothes to wear. She found the suitable jeans and a T-shirt, then searched around the loft for some money and the key to the front door.
Lisa walked to the store and bought a few items including a box of super size trash bags. She then walked back to the place that was now called home.

A few months later, Lisa established herself as an emerging and promising female artist. Her agent Phil managed to arrange a subsidy for her from the city authorities. Phil was invited to the loft, her studio, to discuss the details of the deal. The loft was virtually the same old place where Fabrice kept her captive but looked more feminine and plush. The aluminum sheets and pipes on the walls were covered with artificial flowers, and ikebanas stood in all corners. She also had new furniture from "IKEA" nicely arranged in the room. New high-tech artistic equipment was neatly lined up against the wall. As Phil entered, she offered him a seat and then a drink. He complimented her on the interior design of the place then moved on straight to business. 
"Everything is set for the opening next Friday. The reception is going to be at the Beverly Hilton," he explained. "Oh, the Mayors office will be attending, and from what I know, the Mayor himself is really looking forward to it."
Phil walked over to the window a few times to check on his red "Ferrari" that was parked on the street below. Coming from Beverly Hills, he was concerned about downtown. Lisa seemed a bit confused about his plan.
"That all sounds really great Phil, but can you please explain to me again how this is suppose to work? I don't get it."
"Look Lisa, the bureaucrats run this town and we need to establish things with them. So here's the deal. Part of this building together with your murals can be used for cultural events by the County, which means they will pay to fix this place up and help you to move forward with your art."
"Is somebody from the entertainment industry going to be there?" she asked. "You know how I am about breaking into that side."
"It's possible Lisa, but don't count on it."
Phil was a little frustrated that she was more interested in the entertainment world verses the art, but kept his frustration to himself.
"Let's focus on the politicians first, and then work our way to Hollywood. You'll have your day soon enough," he said politely.
"You are my agent, so I have to trust you," she answered with acceptance. "Is everything else taken care of?"
"Yes." Phil checked his notebook. "Everything except the website."
"Oh yeah, I'll take care of that later."
"Already done. We need this thing up and running yesterday. My guy is on the way now."
"Your guy?" Lisa seemed interested. "Is he cute?"
"You shock me sometimes Lisa. I thought you were only into the female race."
"I am, so what. Guys are ok once in a while. So is he?"
"Yes," Phil said. "He's very cute and very taken. Stan and I are practically married."
"Ooo...k," she said.
Phil decided to change the subject.
"Anyway, all we need are some photographs of your best work, including the naked one."   
"Here ya go Phil," she said handing over the photos. All shots were taken in a way that showed only her body.
"I remember larger shots," he stated. "What happened?"
"I sent those to an art contest in New York," she answered, "and they haven't come back yet."
"Well, these will have to do." Phil paused for a moment. "All we need now is a biography about yourself and maybe a few stories behind the artwork."
Lisa walked over to the desk and pulled out a few papers.
"Already done, Phil."
"Alright. Are you sure you want to go by the name Fabrice though? Maybe we can put something about your real name on the website."
"No," she said. "I only go by my artistic name to the public. I have this image you know."
"Ok, are you going to use your artistic name at the opening as well?" asked Phil.
"Yes."
"That's unadvisable." He tried to convince her. "Bureaucrats don't go for the mysterious type. They really need some kind of background. Your full name would help."
"Absolutely not," Lisa said with anger. "I go by the name miss Fabrice. They must live with it."
"People are going to ask me what your full name is Lisa. Miss Fabrice is not going to cut it. They want to know. I've been through this before."
Lisa exploded.
"Tough shit! I'm keeping my real name private. Period. That's what I want and that's what I get. No ifs, when’s or buts about it. Have I made myself clear yet Phil?"
He was professional enough to swallow his pride.
"OK, calm down miss Fabrice. I get it."
The door buzzed, as he finished speaking.
"Good," she said. "That must be your guy. Now lets get to work."
      
The opening was set in the lobby of the "Beverly Hilton Hotel" and was an ultimate success. The City's political elite was fully present. Reporters constantly tried to interview Lisa. She searched through the vast amount of people looking for stars, but couldn't really recognize anyone. Images of her artwork were present on large stands in the middle of the room, and the public was amazed by the display. After some social gathering, Phil took the microphone and began to speak.
"May I have your attention please?" He paused as the room settled down. "Thank you all for joining us here tonight for what I feel is going to be a historical moment in art. I am pleased to announce, that the City of Los Angeles has excepted our proposal to convert the studio building into a full fledged art center, that will be used by the county for all types of cultural event's. The female artist Miss Fabrice is responsible for the struggle of making this a reality and because of her talents and inspiration Los Angeles now holds a masterpiece that we all will enjoy. Here is a quick look at this landmark building that will soon be preserved for all of us."
The lights dimmed and the video played. They had shown the murals inside the studio and all three rooms. At the end came the image of Lisa in the body paint that Phil had selected very carefully. It was a beautiful shot from behind. After the video, everyone clapped. Phil continued.
"I am proud to acknowledge the public arts department at the City of Los Angeles for their effort in moving this exciting project forward. Thank you for your support." Everyone applauded. "Adolpho Nadal from the head of the department would like to say a few words, Mr. Nadal?"
"Thank you Phil and Thank you all for coming. Art is the essence of one's mind. We all can imagine how much time and energy this beautiful young woman had to spend in order for us to see what's in her mind. A magical experience from the artist’s mind into our own creating a sense of peace. This is something that should be felt more often and because of Miss Fabrice, it can and will be for anyone. We know that this is just the beginning of more female artists that come out in a male dominated activity. The example of Miss Fabrice should inspire others to step up and let it all out possibly changing the way society itself paints the mind. Thank you."
There was a loud round of applause for Mr. Nadal. Phil took the microphone then introduced Miss Fabrice. Lisa was overwhelmed by the applause and seemed a little out of it. A television crew rushed to the stand with a large camera and boom, which made Lisa nervous while photographers blinded her with flashing cameras. She pulled herself together and began to speak.
"Oh, uh, I don't quite know what to say. It's just so great. Thank you to everyone for your support. This means so much to me. Thank you Phil and the City for making this dream come true. None of this would ever be possible without you and the members of the community who believe in my art. I would also like to thank and introduce my personal technical assistant Michael Peters for always being there for me and my career. Come on up Mike."
Through a crowded group, the man approached her and looked out at the people. As the face of this man turned outward, it was a very familiar one. This was the face of the real Fabrice. He was standing there calm and content as one could be.
After nearly killing him then taking over his place, Lisa kept Fabrice locked up in shackles most of the time. She used his images and murals for her promotion while establishing a name for herself. The more artwork he created for her, the more freedom he was allowed. Fabrice was under her strict supervision and could not leave the loft. Lisa kept tight control of the situation, but Fabrice seemed to like it. He never resisted, which made her wonder if he still had some kind of game in mind. When Lisa invited Phil over for the first time, she introduced Fabrice as her assistant. She was curious if he would tell Phil the truth about who the real artist was, but he kept quiet. Fabrice was quiet most of the time except when Lisa had to deliver an artwork. He would briefly give her instructions on what to say to the public then keep to him self while he worked.
Fabrice had changed after that day he painted Lisa's naked body. It was apparent to her that an important passion of his had been fulfilled. Lisa felt sorry for Fabrice, so she decided to give him more freedom and brought him to the opening. It was a risky moment when she introduced him to all those people, but she took that risk, and it worked. Lisa continued on with her speech.
"Oh, and just to let you know, I'm also an actress looking forward to a career in the entertainment industry and I'm available to start work immediately," she said, then noticed a disgusted look on Phil's face. "Thanks very much and have a good night."

Lisa and Fabrice were returning home in an old 40's Bentley with Fabrice driving and Lisa in the back. She took a deep breath and sighed, as her shoes came off..
"What a night! Can you believe it? They really liked us didn't they!”
No response from Fabrice as he drove.
"Oh come on, it wasn't so bad. I swear that was James Cameron out there. Did you see him?"
There was still no response from Fabrice.
"Ah what do you care anyway. Wait! Stop the car. Stop!"
Fabrice stopped the car then looked back at Lisa. She handed him some money.
"Here, get out and go over to that food stand. Order some french fries with lot's of mustard and give it to that homeless guy right there."
She pointed to him and with a strange and curious look Fabrice asked her, "why?"
"Because I told you to."
Fabrice opened the door and walked over to the food stand just like he was told. He ordered the fries and mustard then handed it to the homeless looking guy. It was Tom of course, and he was in a pretty bad shape. His accumulated belongings were in a supermarket basket and he really needed a good bath. Tom stood there with a blank look on his face holding his favorite food, while he watched Fabrice walk back to the car. Lisa was already looking at Tom when he saw her. At that moment she looked away and instructed Fabrice to take her home. Tom stood there like a bum, as they drove off into the night. He couldn't figure out if that was really Lisa, or just a figment of his imagination. Tom then ate his food and carried on, to his own Twisted Fate... 



Ó N. Gabrichidze, K. Gregg  2000-2006

 

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