Memento Mori (MxM)

Chapter 14

The time of the exhibition rolled around far too quickly. Calael spent much of the following day at the town gallery, preparing everything in the order and fashion that he wanted it. But he couldn't say he enjoyed this side of things the way he used to. Everything seemed unnecessary and tedious.

"You're certain about the white vases, Mister Black? I can have a better flower arrangement delivered if you'd like," suggested the gallery curator, a tall and almost skeletally thin red haired man who was rather young by the standards of others in his role. After a moment with no response, he caught onto the artists dismal stare into the middle distance and his brow furrowed. "Are you quite alright? You seem rather.. unenthusiastic, about all of this. Stress, is it?"

"Stress? Not at all. It's only a small event, it would be ridiculous of me to be stressed," Calael murmured. "I suppose unenthusiastic is closer to the truth."

"I hear you've been somewhat absent from the art world for a while now," the man said tentatively, gesturing to a couple of apprentices to continue arranging the decorations for the event as they previously had been.

Calael forced a smile that he hoped would prevent the man from asking too many pitying questions. "Absent; yes. But things are better now."

He turned to look at the room as it had been arranged, with long white panels running through the centre containing art and annotation, as well as other pieces framed along the walls. Elegant white columns were set up to hold flowers as decoration, in a colour scheme befitting of his art style, and tables containing light snacks and free beverages took up a couple of the corners at the far end of the room. At the other side was an area cordoned off for the auction later in the evening. While he had donated a couple of his paintings to the gallery, the rest of his work was to be bid on by clients, both new and curious, and old and loyal.

He used to feel a certain thrill when an event was approaching. There was an excitement to knowing your work was to be on display, and that everyone present would be celebrating in your talent together. Right now he did not feel that. He simply missed Artemus, whom he had left asleep in bed that morning. Even the immaculately arranged vases of flowers that decorated the room did not appear beautiful to him, but rather quite gaudy, because in his minds eye he knew that Artemus would have prepared them so much better.

"I'm certainly glad to hear that. The art community has been rather excited to hear of you hosting an event, after so long without showing your face," the curator chuckled nervously, before clearing his throat. "You're so young, to be so sought after."

"You're young yourself, to be curator of such a prestigious gallery, Mister Avary," Calael responded politely.  "Age doesn't really define talent, does it?"

Avary chuckled again, and being as thin as he was, Calael could see his Adam's apple bob rapidly. "Well thankyou Mister Black."

"Calael?" called a familiar voice, and the artist looked up to see his father strolling inside. Seamus Black was a name that held a fair amount of weight in the correct circles, and so it made sense that he would be allowed in without question. It also made sense that Mr Avary's back would immaculately straighten at the sight of him.

Calael just frowned, recalling what Artemus had said about the man. About his concern over reputation. He answered in a flat tone. "Dad. Here on business?"

"I'm here because a certain son did not leave a key under his doormat. Did you forget I was using the guest room tonight lad? Your mum would have loved to be here this evening too but she.. Wasn't able to make it. Some - spa retreat, I believe, that's taken her all the way to Saint Ives."

"Saint Ives," Calael repeated dubiously, nodding his head. "Of course. I don't care at all. Am I done here, Mister Avary?"

"Of course. I'll see you here again at six o'clock sharp so that you may begin greeting your guests," Avary smiled, escorting the two men to the exit of the gallery, where they stepped back out into the dismal town and towards the car park.