One Night, Endless Secrets

Isla Knight opened her eyes and found herself in the midst of her little studio; it was as good as no light at all, and only the flicker of lamplight through the dirty window offered any illumination. The stench of turpentine and oil paint surrounded her, a pleasant scent that was akin to a hug and helped her to focus on something other than the heavy stream of thoughts. She looked at the new painting in front of her; the merging of violet, pink, white and black all depicting the chaos of her feelings – dreams and nightmares. They painted the dreams they lacked – she painted the hope that she never knew till her traumatic past robbed her of a normal life. Having been cared for in a foster home, Isla did know that trust could be broken very easily, that such things as affection were meaningless. With every exhibition which was held and nothing gained, her heart became heavier, and she felt a lonelier person with each day. But tonight she had an opportunity to do so. Cassidy, her pet’s colorful best friend, had persuaded her to attend the opening of an exclusive gallery downtown,“Isla, you should start looking for a job, a husband, or whatever you call it.” Well, Cassidy had said that her green eyes were shining with delight when she said that. They also urge their audience and readers not to allow their talent to be hidden. This is your shot!” Isla had hesitated. She could never stomach the idea of having to mix with the rich. It was the same people she saw every day on the streets, avoiding eye contact, and going on with their everyday normal lives. But the desire for attention oppressed her all the time and, leaving this desire aside, she agreed. The increasing heartbeat of Isla was noticeable when she entered the gallery. The place was amazing. The walls were painted with great artwork, the backdrop filled with the noise of posh people. She stood out of place in the midst of the formal attired people, she was out of place, a swan among peacocks. The smell of champagne was really rich; it mixed with the smell of art and even this concoction made her slightly dizzy. Taking a lung full of air, she entered the room and searched around. By the time Tom got through the door, Cassidy had been drawn into a cluster of other artworks , and her laughter was a pleasing harmonic. Isla just stood back sipping her wine while doing her best to melt into the background and simultaneously wishing she wasn’t there. In the far corner of the room, Roman Blackwell sat at the table sipping coffee and looking at the mass of people around him with the bored look of a man who travels business class around the world. More than anything, he had jet black hair, styled in a very sophisticated way to give him that sharp look and while he was no taller than average, he carried his tailored business suit like a well-made sculpture of a lean muscle. He was loved and everyone saw to it that he was the center of it all, that all eyes had to be on him. By a man who harbored a side even fewer were able to observe—a hurricane mixed of aspiration, grief, and skeletons. Tonight, as it always happens when Roman was in town on business, he was not so sure something had not changed. The atmosphere was tense, and he started moving deep into the back of the gallery where the hues appeared to dance. He looked at a beautiful woman who was standing alone with her long auburn hair over her shoulders with that cute profile illuminated by the warm lights. Isla’s eyes were glued on a painting and there was no way she could be distracted, she only came to life when she was done with a painting. He was curious that he felt attracted to her and this strengthened the Roman's love for her, an attachment beyond explanation. He moved toward her treading softly, fascinated by the fact that she looked and acted like a commoner despite the fact that they were in a royal entourage. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked gently and softly with an inviting tone of voice that could be heard when he joined her. Isla swung round, hastily, wide-green eyes clashing with his, she was surprised yet on guard. Then she paused, “I suppose,” she said coldly and crossed her arms in front of her as if protecting herself. ‘The smell, she supposed, was still quite nice, but she could not say ‘This is pink, that is blue, and the other is green.’ Roman grinned, not in the least way put off by her hasty dismissal of his comments. “Messy can be beautiful. To my mind, ‘twas all in the sight of things, isn’t it? He looked at her, and drew the conclusion of a swelling pride and an unbending spirit. “I’m Roman, by the way.” “Isla,” she said coldly, her eyes returning to the painting as if it could somehow explain her existence. “I do not recognize you,” he said with a slight move closer to her. “Are you an artist?” He threatened to leave, which made her take a few moments before responding, “I am.” They all said ‘Oh just trying to make a name for yourself.’ ” Even she was amazed by the vulnerable tone of her admission. “But, you know, I am not so fond of being in the center of attention.” “Why not? This is important because you deserve a full audience for the work you present.” Roman looked eagerly at the screen as if he were genuinely interested in a lecture. He was attracted by her rebellious character, by the fact that she was trying to swim against the flow of the rich people surrounding her. “You’re here because your friend forced you to come.” Isla shot him a wry smile. “You’re not wrong. I know this because my best friend believes in the power of networking. ‘Sometimes, networking can be overrated’ he said, reclining nonchalantly against the wall of the building. “But sometimes – to certain opportunities.” His eyes never left her, and Isla could feel their piercing all over her body. Both the appeal was rather both attractive and invasive. ‘Well, what do you know about luck?’ she asked, c*****g one eyebrow. “Rather a lot,” he informed her, his voice a dry chuckle as his lips tilted up into a half smirk. School teaches that knowledge can be acquired in the most unusual disguises: Isla sighed and was not able to be pulled into the kudos, but there was definitely something going on between them. “You can’t be this charming all the time or this is just one of the ways of charming the environment.” “Only when I’m trying to impress someone,” he said, mockly chiding me. So what is the plan for tonight? Do nothing but lie around waiting for somebody to notice that they need something you can do? I was touched by Isla reading her challenge, which woke up something in her from inside. “As a matter of fact, I wanted to order another glass of wine and go home,” she answered as nervously as she could. Instead, I hear people saying such things as, for instance: “Why don’t we do that together? Now, seeing him smiling and calling me out about how plain and monotone he was, I had to admit, “I swear, I’m not as dull as I appear.” Although it was against her personality to be silly and amused by such an act, Isla could not resist but smile into his jokes. “Okay, let me do it the other way around.”