Preacher's Kid|MJ

36 | Empty Spaces & Hollowness

He still knew her number by heart, place of residence, and workplace, but the way he was so crazy about Irish his heart wouldn't allow him to do such a thing. He was too in love with that woman to make a move like that. He was too grown for bullshit like that. It was childish, petty, and a sin. Despite how angry he was with her about the Hailey situation and other things that contributed to what it was now, nothing could make him betray her because if he did, he would be more so in the wrong than she ever would be by making it true that he was, in fact, cheating.

Dipping his paintbrush in white and black paint to create a light gray color, he brought it to the canvas and colored in the background at the top. He bobbed his head to "Rocket Love" that fed into his inspiration. All morning he listened to multiple records that contained elements of sadness and happiness combined. It made the portrait he was painting come to life by telling a bittersweet story that evoked the emotions he currently felt. He had been painting since 6 AM and wasn't sure what time it was now, but he was nearly done. The only thing left would be to varnish it after it was completely dried which would take hours to a couple days due to its many layers.

Ooh, you took me riding in your rocket, gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Da da, da da da, da da da, da da da
Da da da, da da da

After filling in the background with the light gray paint, he moved on to orange, yellow, and red to create bittersweet stems and berries at the bottom. His phone that was next to the palette he unlocked with the passcode and was brought back to the screen where he saved a photo of the plant in his photo gallery. He studied it for a few seconds getting the gist of what they looked like then resumed painting.

Softly he sung along with Stevie's voice, tilting his head to the left as his eyes were concentrated on perfecting his craft. "The passion burning in your heart would make hell's fire seem like a spark. Where did it go? Just why that you would overnight turn love to stone as cold as ice? I'll never know. But you took me riding in your rocket, gave me a star, but at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back down to this cold, cold world. Baby, you took me riding in your rocket, gave me a star, but at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back down to this cold, cold world."

Michael leaned back, humming along to the rest of the song as he examined the bittersweet he added and thought it looked good so far. Just as he resumed painting, a knock sounded at the door. Luckily, the music wasn't too loud or else he wouldn't have heard anything. The door opened to reveal Eugene, the butler. They had greeted each other in passing earlier that morning. Michael turned around and smiled at the older gentleman. "Wassup, 'Gene?" He faced the canvas again and resumed painting. He just needed to add a few more finishing touches, and he was done.

"Your grandfather sent for you. He awaits you to join him for breakfast out on the terrace."

He licked his lips and sighed. "A'ight. Tell him I'll be out there within the next five minutes."

"Will do, sir."

Michael chuckled and shook his head. His back was still turned to Eugene when he said, "'Gene you've been in this family for over twenty years now. It's Michael."

"It's a habit; my apologies." He grinned, and Michael could hear it in his tenor voice.

"It's cool, and thanks for informing me 'bout breakfast."