Now, King looked around at the other artists already at work. “So. You want to get started, man?”
“Yes.”
“Did you bring your music?”
“Yes.” Noah unzipped his backpack and produced a cheap CD Walkman. It was battered and beaten up, but Noah handled it like it was the most beautiful thing on the planet. King watched as he loaded up a disc, put on the headphones, and turned to stare at the blank canvas.
And just like that, Noah was gone into his head, into his own little world. King smiled as Noah grabbed a paintbrush and dabbled it in a bit of water, dipped it in bright yellow paint. He blinked at the white landscape stretched out in front of him, and King would have paid a boatload of money to know what Noah was seeing on it.
King backed up quietly, wondering if Noah would freak out a
