Fixing Noah / Finding Noah - #ForNoah | +18 | BWWM

09 | Going Going Gone

When I saw Trisa, I knew I had to take a moment to cool off or do something. So, I walked back through the door, and my stomach turned. Trisa leans into Noah during her interview with him. Her blood-red nails tapped his hand. And he flinches from her touch but doesn't pull away. Then she leans back and laughed at a joke he wasn't telling. Which was a little weird on to itself because he was answering mostly yes or no. Unless Noah was telling some big joke before I enter the room. I highly doubt it, though. He's stiff, but his hands moved a little as the cameras broadcast his interview live before the last bid. His artwork is finally up for bid in this one-night-only event. I carefully shut the door without a sound and then lean next to the back door.

Noah's gaze tracks over me, his eyes more alert. But the sadness remains in his scrutiny. I pick up the clipboard and kept it professional. Noah's agent nodded at me with a questioning look. But I had nothing I could say to her. Thankfully, a lot of care to get myself ready to be in this room.

Trisa takes Noah's move and tugs him towards the door with a big smile. He follows after her with the cameras in the wake of the two. I glance at his agent and she shakes her head no. Yeah, I didn't think this was in any of the if Noah ends up coming scripts we have for the event.

I mouth at his agent. 'What do we do?' She shrugs back at me. We follow them to the stage area and the crowd claps. The clapping doesn't stop as Trisa drags Noah to the stage with her and the cameraman following. Noah stands in the center of the stage, his boat behind him with all the 100s of ocean panels surrounding him. The storm we made together that night it's striking, even with her on the stage with him. With it lit up with lights at night, it's a powerful piece of artwork. Noah in his urbane suit to top it off and the cameras flashing eating up the Artist with his Artwork.

The auctioneer begins the bidding. The guest lifts their hands, signaling higher and bigger bids. As the influential people bid, it's as if Noah is lost in that sea around him. I remember so long ago. He describes himself as a tiny boat in a large stormy sea. Seeing him on stage like that was that, as he said. Lost at sea. A part of me wanted to come and get him. Because from where I stood I could see his hand moving faster against his side, but I can't be that for him anymore. Trisa's smile widens with the attention on her and Noah together. They didn't look like the interviewer and interviewee. Instead, they look like a couple. And as the lights on the boat.

Shimmer with thousands of shades of blues and whites, it was beautiful at night. The paintings were a kaleidoscope setting off the multicolor blues of the paintings, hinting at how wide and vast the ocean really could be. But my world only got more narrow.

"Sold..." said the auctioneer, interrupting my thoughts. I was so done for the night. Done with Noah, done with the guilt and pain. All of it, done done done. I take my clipboard and text my friends, telling them I'm going home. End of the show end of my work time.

I passed through the peacocking people like a shadow. They seem so glad to be photographed at what was soon becoming a historic event. It was a hit, talk of the nation. With everyone asking about if it's going to be the same artists next year. The live singer, of course, would change. The gowns, and the theme for next year. But for me, it was simply my last day working for Noah. And tragically, no matter how much I care for Noah, one of the hardest days of my life. Simply done.