《Starlight in the Cracks》

Chapter 8

Alex pointed at the swirling gray-blue painting: "Collectors are more willing to pay for sunsets they can understand." Luna's palette knife slashed across the canvas: "Then should I hang my heart up there? Would that be straightforward enough?"

The canvas she slashed bled cobalt blue, resembling the fading heartbeat on a monitor. He picked up the blood-stained palette knife and carved an equally deep wound into his own palm: "Now we're both bleeding the same color. Can we stop this mutual torment?"

Luna's fingers paused on the canvas, and she felt a tightness in her chest. She had never imagined that this collaboration would turn out like this—it seemed that their philosophies had been at odds from the very beginning.

"But..." her voice trembled slightly, "art isn't about the market, right? It's... it's the expression of the soul."

"Don't you want more people to see your work?" Alex's voice carried a hint of confusion. "I understand your insistence, but Luna, the reality is that we need to survive. The success of the exhibition isn't just about art; it's also about promoting your work and letting more people know about you."

Luna closed her eyes, trying to calm her emotions. She knew Alex was right, but he always did this—putting everything in terms of business and profit.

"This isn't about survival," she said softly, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "This is about... my art."

"What will you do then?"

As he loosened his tie, he accidentally broke the pearl necklace, and the beads rolled across the wooden floor, creating a rapid tapping sound like rain. On that stormy night years ago, she had listened to the sound of rain while preparing her mother's body in the morgue. Alex's voice suddenly sharpened, "Are you going to give up this opportunity?"

Luna's pupils contracted slightly. She had never heard Alex speak to her in this tone before. He was always so rational, so calm, but now... it was as if a fire burned in his eyes.

"I'm not saying I want to give up," she bit her lip. "I just think we should respect the essence of art."

"Respect art?" Alex suddenly stood up, his voice almost roaring. "Luna, you don't understand reality! Without the market, no one will pay attention to your work. Do you think your exhibition can survive on passion alone?!"

Alex felt that he should become more involved in the gallery's affairs.

The city at night was enveloped in tranquility, the streetlights casting flowing shadows through the window frames, draping the city in a soft, gentle glow. However, the sky was brewing a sudden storm.

Luna sat at the bar in the company gallery, her coffee long since cooled. She gazed out the window at the darkening sky, her brow slightly furrowed. Today was supposed to be the preview day for the art exhibition they had planned together, but she and Alex had had a heated argument over differences in design philosophy. Now, the gallery was empty except for her, and even the air felt heavy.

A cool breeze swept through, and Luna instinctively tightened her coat. Outside, a flash of lightning suddenly streaked across the sky, followed by a low rumble of thunder. She looked up at the pitch-black horizon, where clouds were gathering at an alarming speed, like a giant beast spreading its wings over the city.

"It's going to rain," Luna murmured to herself, standing up to gather her things and leave. But just as she reached for her coat, a blinding flash of lightning lit up the entire street. Immediately after, heavy raindrops began to pelt down, clattering against the glass windows.

"Run!" A sudden shout and the sound of hurried footsteps came from outside the gallery. Startled, Luna peered through the rain-streaked window and saw Alex sprinting through the storm. His shirt was soaked, clinging to his body, and water dripped from his hair.

"Luna! Don't open the door!" Alex shouted, slamming his body against the gallery's glass door with all his strength. Luna realized she had been about to open the door facing the storm.

"What are you doing here?" Luna asked in surprise, quickly heading toward the safe exit on the other side.

"Long story!" Alex's voice was urgent, "Come with me! It's not safe here!"

As they spoke, a powerful gust of wind slammed against the gallery's glass door, making it rattle. Luna watched as the glass swayed precariously in the storm, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest.

A billboard fell like a broken-winged bird in the strong wind. Alex hunched over, pushing against the wind, his trousers torn by shards of glass. The scene felt familiar—on the first snow day, Luna had insisted on "bandaging" the hospital's plane tree. She had tied a blue ribbon around the tree's cracked bark, and Alex, holding a medical record, had pretended to document: "Patient's name: Big Tree Chen. Diagnosis: Healed by the love of a silly nurse." Now, blood seeped into the fabric of his suit, and he suddenly remembered that tree, wrapped in ribbons, which had sprouted new buds the following spring.

The bloodstains spread into faint red streams in the rain.

"We have to leave!" Alex grabbed her hand, almost dragging her toward the stairs. They ran up the slippery steps, each step feeling like a race against the sudden storm.

Finally, they reached the company's rooftop. The rooftop was flooded with rainwater, and the raindrops fell like broken strings of pearls, enveloping the entire city in a hazy mist. Luna stood by the railing, gazing at the city lights swaying in the storm, and suddenly felt a wave of dizziness.

"Careful!" Alex quickly steadied her trembling body. Their breaths grew rapid, their heartbeats intertwining in the rain.

"Are you okay?" Alex's voice was low and concerned, his hand still resting on Luna's waist, afraid she might fall again.

Luna didn't answer, just looked up at the distant sky. Lightning still streaked across the horizon, illuminating the chaotic darkness. She suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of security—on this violent rainy night, someone had still rushed to protect her.