The Billionaire's work of Art

CHAPTER ONE The Art Exhibition. I was awakened from my deep sleep by my phone beeping. I verified that it was 6:30 PM by looking at my wall clock. "Oh my!” How did I sleep this long?” As I threw myself off the bed, I wondered. I was already sound asleep, as if my wine had been tainted with drugs, when I returned home shortly after failing to sell my artwork to drivers. The fact that sleeping in the studio flat was inconvenient for me did not even bother me. Even though my back hurt, I did not feel like it because I was accustomed to the difficulty. I checked my mailbox and picked up my phone in the hopes of receiving a mouth-watering message from a potential client, but I did not receive any. “Argh! What the heck is happening to my life?” With a groan of rage, I almost slammed my phone against the wall. The transition to Earth was difficult for me. I decided that art was not working for me and that I should just give it up and concentrate on other things. My phone beeped again, so I slowly closed my eyes to go to sleep. This time, it was a text from my best friend Hilda, who works at an art gallery, rather than my alarm. “Call me when this pops on your phone,” was the text I received from Hilda. The situation described in the text seems urgent. I suffered from migraines and lost some brain cells while I was racking my brain. I had no desire to talk to anyone for the day. I decided to make a call, though, because of the tone of the text I got from Hilda. “I just hope this is worth it. I would rather not waste my time discussing frivolities with you when I should be fast asleep,” I mumbled while reaching out to Hilda. “Hey, Lizzy,” Hilda answered the phone within seconds of calling her. I never saw that coming. Dark magic is what I would have accused her of if she were not my best friend. “I got your texts. What's it about?” I feigned a faint tone to make her believe that I was sleeping. I was eager to end our conversation on the phone. “Were you sleeping before my text popped up?” As soon as she heard how calm my tone was, Hilda inquired. “Yes, I was asleep. What do you wanna talk to me about?” I lied. A few miles away from my ear, I picked up the phone and chuckled that my plan was working. “Oops, sorry about that. I just wanted to inform you about the Art Exhibition coming up tonight at the Art gallery. I just thought you might be interested in it. Since you're sleeping, we should forget about it,” Hilda revealed. My nostrils opened wide in anticipation when the Art Exhibition was mentioned. I became more thick-spoken than ever. My body's bones were all roused. "Art Show? I have already arrived. What time are they starting?” “Wait a minute, I thought you were sleeping? What happened to your voice? It grew thicker. Were you sleeping, or you're just pulling my legs?” Hilda asked in the utmost confusion. I could picture the anxiety taking up a significant portion of her face even though I was not there. “Forget I ever said that, and answer the damn question. When are they starting?” I spoke in a placating tone. “When are they starting? The Red carpet has kicked off already. The most wealthy and influential people are already trooping in. You don't want to miss it for anything,” Hilda added. “I'll be there in a bit Before Hilda could say anything more, I hung up the phone. I received the necessary information. I was experiencing a panic attack already. I eagerly anticipated seeing what she had in store for me. I rushed to my artwork, which I could not sell because I was moving too quickly and got caught up in traffic. I searched the streets of New York in the sweltering heat for a new home for them, and now they smell of day and bad odour. To make the paintings look more appealing to the affluent visitors at the Art Exhibition, I wiped the dust off them with one of my old clothes. I do not want my artwork to have a rotten fish odour. “Now it's the time.” After successfully removing the dust, I let out a sigh. Hilda called again as I was contemplating my next move while standing in front of my artwork. “How long will it take you to show up here? If you miss out on this important opportunity, I would be forever mad at you,” On the phone, she screamed at me like I was her kid. "Hilda, shortly. Right now, I only have $20 on me. How do I get back home?” I lamented. “Are you crazy? Have you given any thought to how much this exhibit will bring in? Come over, I would sort it out,” Hilda assured me and ended the call. This was not merely a phone call. It was more akin to Hilda reviving my lifeless soul. I threw on a red gown and took a quick bath without hesitation. It was considered my finest ensemble to date. I managed to pick my best pieces of art with care. I went outside and caught a cab to the exhibition's location, Muse Galleria. Even a few miles from the door entrance, I was already breathing heavily, like a dog chasing a person. I experienced an internal meltdown. My heart was breaking at that moment. Based on the dignitaries in attendance, I instantly gave up on ever selling a piece. After giving it some more thought, I thought about the potential to meet with those who could most likely change my career. I overcame my fears and moved a few paces toward the door entrance. I felt someone tugging me back from my shoulder as I was about to enter the main auditorium. A man with broad shoulders and a hefty appearance appears in front of me as I look over my shoulder. I already knew he was the event's bouncer without being informed. “Where's your invitation card?” He held his hand out in front of him and asked. I realized at that moment that I would soon be bundled outside like a robber. I could see my dreams disappearing right before my eyes.