Painted Desire

(Melodee)

As soon as I stepped off the plane, I felt the rush of excitement that comes with discovering new surroundings. This time, my destination was Manchester, England, where I planned to find inspiration for my upcoming art show. My sales had been on a downward spiral, and my manager, Katie, had suggested that I look for exotic places to rejuvenate my creativity.

But the truth was, I had no clue how to make my work appeal to a wider audience. I was afraid that my art would be lost in the sea of mediocrity, and I'd be just another struggling artist. Nevertheless, I had a few tours lined up, where I could paint or get exclusive behind-the-scenes access to some of Manchester's iconic landmarks.

Katie was always pushing me to go beyond my comfort zone, to try different styles and themes. She was tired of seeing the same old landscapes, and she wanted to see what I could really do. I knew I had a lot to prove, but deep down, I felt like I was not good enough to do anything.

I keep most of my fucked upness to myself, but Katie had seen some of my darker and twisted pieces. They were a reflection of my inner turmoil, the product of years of therapy. I had promised myself that I would never show them to anyone else, only Katie and my sister Ashlee were allowed to see what I kept hidden from the world. The only ones who knew about my hidden notebook which I kept close to my person, whether it be in my bag or locked away in my bedside table.

As I walked through the airport, I looked into the British novelties and flags that adorned the walls to find some form of inspiration. The culture and the accents were different from what I was used to.

And then I saw the sign that changed everything. It was a concert clip of a guy jumping and running around the stage, while the crowd went wild. The song was a mix of rap and punk, a fusion that I had never heard before. But what caught my attention the most was the way he moved, his hand sliding up the microphone stand, grinding his pelvis against the pole, it was enough to get me aroused, feeling heat rise through my core, clenching my legs together.

I observed my surroundings, no one seemed to notice my flushed cheeks or my visceral reaction to watching him dance. I had never been so captivated by a performer before. Watching the screen with enchantment, he captured my heart, as he continued to belt out the lyrics. I knew right then and there that I had to paint him.

He was the missing piece in my search for inspiration. I didn't care if he wasn't interested in me personally, I just had a sudden need to make my whole collection about him. I had to hear more of his music, to see him in concert, to see him move the way he did on the microphone pole. I just hope he could unlock the creativity that was trapped inside me.

“Insurgence, get your tickets while they’re still available, only a few shows left,” The announcer spoke over the band’s music, bringing me back to reality. I smiled, feeling a surge of excitement that I had not felt in a long time.

“Shit,” I muttered as I pulled out my phone to write down the band's name so I wouldn't forget to check them out later when I was settled in. My phone vibrated in my hand, adrenaline racing through my body as I wasn’t expecting a call so quickly. "Hello?"

"Your assistant is waiting in front of the airport, her name is Ella. Try not to be an asshole," Katie's voice was like a constant ringing, a discomfort lodged in my ear.

I rolled my eyes, as they were still fixated on the screen. "One time, I didn't like my assistant, and you bring it up every fucking time."

Katie laughed. "Don't act like you're innocent, meet her downstairs. She has your bags already." I checked my phone to see the time. I was ahead of schedule, which meant Ella could wait a little longer.

"Hey, have you ever heard of Insurgence?" I inquired.

I could hear Katie shuffling papers around, assuming she was checking her computer. "They are pretty big out there. Why?" She sounded skeptical of my intentions, and I knew she had reasons to be.

I gave up trying to wait to see that clip of Insurgence again. People were starting to stare at me, making me uncomfortable. I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear, carrying my satchel and carry-on bag to the exit. "Well, I got off the plane, and they were being shown off on a billboard."

"What are you thinking?" Katie asked.

"I need to paint the lead singer," I admitted. I hated using people for my art, they always wanted some type of compensation for their time, sex or money was the usual. but Steele felt different. I couldn't put my finger on it, I just had a feeling.

Katie scoffed. "Go look up a photo. It's not that hard."

I rolled my eyes and pursed my lips, feeling anger simmering in my chest. "Not that hard, huh? Alright, Katie, I quit. You can handle the next gallery."

"What do you want? A concert ticket? VIP?" Katie sounded annoyed, if the pay wasn't good she wouldn't have stuck around this long.

"I just need to paint him, in person. Figure out a way. This is why you get paid," My voice tense. Only realizing now I had forgotten to take my pills.

Katie laughed, knowing she had gotten under my skin. "I should record you. I could tank your whole career. You know how many times I've saved your ass?"

"Goodbye," I hung up the phone. Dread settled in; I was nervous about meeting someone while being so tired. I kept reminding myself to take the pills immediately when I met up with Ella.

Exiting the airport, the dull gray skies with rainy forecasts were a welcomed comfort, as if I never left New York, except for the cars that were driving on the wrong side of the road. I dropped my bags on the sidewalk, bending down to search for my pill bottle, when a young girl, about 20 years old, shoved a water bottle in my face. I had just found the bottle of pills before shoving them back in my bag so Ella wouldn't see them.

Ella wore her dark, long hair in a low ponytail, she had pushed her overgrown bangs out of her face and clipped them off to the sides. She wore virtually no makeup, maybe a hint of mascara to feel confident. Ella had on jeans and a black sweetheart neckline sweater, showing off her small gold chain. I was pleasantly surprised that Katie managed not to screw me over yet again.

Ella stretched her hand out for me to greet her. "Miss Reaver, hi, my name's Elaina French, but my friends just call me Ella," Ella was nervous. I watched her hand retract slightly, but took a deep breath and held her hand firmly until I shook it.

I reminded myself to smile and play nice, but it was hard. I hated meeting people. "Just call me Melodee. Where are we off to?"

Ella pulled out her notebook, which was filled with all the things I needed: my schedule, my behaviors, contact information, the types of paints, brushes, canvases I used, medications, and allergies. Jesus, she was organized. "To the apartment, I thought you could use a nap."

"Did my art supplies make it okay?" My mental checklist wasn't long, just a pain in the ass.

I furrowed my brows, making sure I remembered everything I needed. God forbid I forget something and have it hinder my workflow. I try so hard to keep things in line so I don't have breakdowns.

"Yes, I set it up this morning," Ella kept up with all my questions. Nodding my head with approval, she impressed me, so I tried keeping my questions short so I wouldn't blow a fuse by accident.

However, Ella kept rambling off things from her list, but I had spaced out, drowning out her voice until a thought crossed my mind--or rather, a person. "Ella, stop," I took a second to breathe in quickly, feeling the anger build. Shit, my meds. "Do you listen to Insurgence?"

"I'm sorry?" I felt bad for derailing her.

Ella just looked at me confused. Maybe Katie was lying when she said he was a big name out here. Maybe she hadn't heard of him.

Another deep breath was needed. Ella was going to be a lot. "Do you listen to Insurg—"

Before I could even finish my sentence, Ella's face lit up like a firework. I backed up. I could tell she was a fan. The professionalism drained from her body as she squealed out in excitement, "Yes! Oh my god, I love their music and Steele, of course. He's like my favorite singer! I know everything about him." The vice grip she had on my arm and she bounced up and down was as painful as her girlish screams, embarrassing the hell out me.

Sighing as I rolled my eyes, "I asked Katie to get us VIP tickets. We're going to their next show." I looked down when I saw her phone screen flash on. It was a picture of Steele in some ridiculous pose. Oh god, she was a super fan.

The screech from Ella's mouth confirmed what I already knew. "We're gonna meet Steele?" she exclaimed, bouncing up and down in her seat so much that the taxi driver shouted at her to sit still. I had to hold her down to keep her from jumping again. "Calm down, his concert isn't for a few days."

"Blimey! We should go shopping!" Ella pulled out her schedule and began checking for free days. I rolled my eyes at her need to look perfect for Steele.

"You do whatever you need, I just need to paint his face. I don't care how I look," I declared, trying to stay professional. But the truth was, I was just as excited as Ella to meet the famous musician.

"Bollocks!" Ella exclaimed, her Mancunian accent coming through. "You're meeting Steele Corbyn, and you want to look like a Normy? He's an anarchist god!"

"He's a client, I'm not there to impress," I reminded her. I had learned that lesson the hard way a few years ago when I had tried to be something I wasn't for a client, and it had ended in a messy breakup. "But if I have time, we can do some shopping."

"Okay, I can buy you dinner, for your inconvenience," Ella begged, grinning at me. I groaned with annoyance. I suspected Katie had set me up with her to keep me from being too serious and broody all the time.

"I'm here to paint for a gallery exhibit, so I can't make any promises. But if I have a spare moment, I'll come with you," I repeated myself, hoping that would be enough for her.

"Eee!" Ella's high-pitched squeal pierced through the air, making me cringe as I held my hands over my ears, the sensory overload I was experiencing was exhausting. "I'm so excited to meet him! I'll do whatever it takes to help out!" Her determination was evident, radiating off of her in waves. I could see the anticipation in her eyes.

I placed a hand on Ella's shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Let's try to stay professional until then, okay? We have other things we need to focus on first."

As the taxi pulled up to the apartment, I couldn't help but feel disappointed. The description had promised a peaceful artist loft, but what I got was a mishmash of colors and styles. The paintings on the wall were chaotic and didn't match, and every chair and couch seemed to be a different color. The bathroom had a weird nautical theme, which was at least somewhat coherent, but the bedroom was an inexplicable dark green with a plant motif. It was as if the owner had no sense of design whatsoever.

I pulled out my speaker from my luggage and turned on some music to distract myself. I searched for Insurgence on Spotify, finding the profile picture to be a photo of him with his middle fingers up with the band in the background brooding. His hair reminded me of Beetlejuice, stuck out in every direction, messy makeup around his eyes and tattoos on his knuckles - a broken heart on his left hand and a coffin on his right.

"Fuck, he's hot," I whispered to myself, crossing my legs tightly as I sat on the couch. He stirred up new emotions in me, despite us not having met yet.

I found their only album and pressed shuffle. The music was a blend of rock and rap, with heavy beats and powerful lyrics. One song, called "Wild for an Angel," stood out to me - it was slower and more melodic, with lyrics that hinted at a past relationship. I scoffed at the thought of ever having a chance with him; of course he was already taken. But I couldn't help listening to more of his music - it seemed to speak to me on a level I couldn't quite explain.

As I listened to Steele's voice, deep and raspy, I felt my eyelids start to droop. Normally, I struggled to fall asleep, but his music was so soothing that I found myself drifting off into a peaceful slumber.