Undying Sunset

Chapter 2: Passionless

Tommy downed another vampire kiss cocktail, tapping the bar for another one. Ben, his bartender, gave him a reproachful, warning look. Tommy glared at him.

“I don't pay you to judge me," Tommy pointed out.

Ben shook his bald head but dutifully made another drink.

“Tell me what you were thinking when you painted this one," the woman hanging off of Tommy's arm said, pointing to the painting behind the bar.

Tommy looked at the woman, trying in vain to remember her name.

“What do you see when you look at it?" he asked.

The picture was of a naked woman lying on the windowsill of a medieval castle. She had a royal blue blanket draped over her pale, white skin. There was a sunset in the distance, and where the light touched the woman's body, her skin was graying, floating away into ash with smoldering red coals around the edges.

“I see a sensual interpretation of a woman experiencing a great morning after," Tommy's companion said with a giggle.

The artist sighed. He grabbed his fresh drink from the bar and walked towards a high-top table with a few stools. Some of his artist friends were sitting there, and the woman who was following him around hung off him despite his attempts to shake her off.

“It isn't about s*x," he told her bluntly when they got to the table.

“Hey, Tommy," his friends chorused.

“Have anything new for a gallery show?" one of the artists at the table asked.

Tommy smirked and shook his head. “I have to finish the next volume of Bloodborne first," he said. Having a series of graphic novels share the name of his club had always worked in his favor.

“Tommy, I want to talk about your art more," the woman on his arm said, pouting.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at her. He couldn't remember her name. “I'm going to have a drink with my friends. Why don't you head out onto the dance floor and I will catch up with you in a few?" he asked.

The woman gave him a sultry smile and slinked away. Tommy rolled his eyes as he turned back to his friends.

“I'm telling you, man, having your own art here is the biggest s*x magnet ever, but you also get a few crazed fans," he pointed out, nodding to the woman Tommy had just shed.

Tommy sighed and sipped his drink. He glanced over his shoulder at the dancing woman. For a moment he thought he saw a woman in the shadows, a woman with stunning sapphire eyes.

He blinked and she was gone.

“Did you see that?" Tommy asked, turning back to the table.

“See what?" he asked.

Tommy shook his head.

“Tommy, don't tell me you're already rolling," one of his tablemates said, pulling out a small vial of coke.

Tommy shook his head. “I'm off of that," he assured. “I'm going to call it a night."

He downed the rest of his drink, despite the protests of his friends, and he headed up to his apartment.

Feeling certain he had seen a woman in the shadows, Tommy went to his security closet where he kept the monitors for the club's security system. He found the camera with the right angle and rewound the tape.

He watched as he sent his female friend away, then as he turned around. He could see himself staring into the shadows, but there was no one on the tape. Shaking his head, Tommy cleared the tape.

His eyes were playing tricks on him.

He went over to his blank canvas, picking up a paintbrush and staring at it again. Nothing came to him.

For years, all he had to do was look at a canvas and images flooded his mind. He couldn't paint fast enough.

Now, there was nothing.

A buzzing from his drawing table caught his attention. Tommy set his paintbrush down and went to answer the phone. His agent's name flashed on the screen and Tommy groaned.

“What do you want, Jason?" he barked into the phone.

His agent cleared his throat. “Tommy, you have a deadline in two weeks for the next volume of Bloodborne," Jason said. “I'm checking in."

Tommy looked at his drawing table. It was mostly covered in blank white papers. Scattered pens, pencils, and pastels covered the surface and a few very basic sketches.

“That's not going to happen," Tommy said, shaking his head.

“Are you serious?" Jason snapped. “Tommy, you got a major advance on this project. The publisher wants their money, and you were contracted for another three volumes."

“I know, I know," Tommy groaned. He squeezed the phone in his hand, frustration making his fingers rigid.

“So, get to work," Jason insisted. “I'll call the publishers and stall as much as I can, but you need to have something to show them in two weeks. Maybe not a finished project, but something."

“I'll see what I can come up with," Tommy said with a sigh.

Jason sighed too. “I get it, man," Jason said. “You've been working on Bloodborne for years. I know it can get boring. You just have to find a way to make it interesting again. You've only got three more volumes. Then you can work on something new." Tommy scoffed.

“Something new?" he asked.

“You could always do another gallery showing," Jason suggested.

Tommy looked over his shoulder at the blank canvas. His walls were covered with a lot of his own art. There were several canvases stacked up together against one wall on the floor. Those were the projects he'd started and never finished.

“I don't have anything for that either," Tommy said.

“Well, you have to do something," Jason said. “If you're not selling books or art, you're not getting paid, and that means I'm not getting paid. So, make something!"

“Is that all?" Tommy asked in a bored tone.

“We are going to brunch later this week, don't forget," Jason reminded him.

“See you then," Tommy said. He hung up quickly, unable to get off the phone fast enough.

Gripping the phone in his hand, Tommy growled, gritting his teeth together. He considered throwing the phone at his wall, but then he stopped. He sighed and unclenched his teeth, resting the phone against his forehead.

A tingle ran down Tommy's spine and he stiffened. It felt like someone was watching him.

Rushing to the window with the fire escape, Tommy looked outside. There was no one there. He shook his head at himself.

“Get it together, Tommy," he muttered to himself.

Returning to the blank canvas, Tommy picked up a paintbrush and kept staring.

When he'd first made it big as an artist, he'd done what most do. He gave himself over to cocaine. At first, he had thought that made him more creative, but then the publisher started to complain about the quality of his work.

He'd never had a problem being creative before the drugs. He went to rehab and came back clean. After that, he had only been able to finish one more volume of Bloodborne before all his inspiration dried up.

He'd taken a break from graphic novels to focus on painting, but after one great gallery show, he hadn't been able to continue with that either.

The empty canvas stared at him, mocking him. He sneered at it and threw his brush down on the table with his paints and brushes.

Once again, he had the sensation of being watched. It made his stomach twist uneasily. Tommy wasn't paranoid by nature. He'd kicked that with his habit, but he wrote enough about chilling moments in an ally to understand what it felt like to be watched, to be hunted.

Someone was watching him and didn't want him to know!