Ink and Paper

Goddess of the Stars

It's late one night when Justin decides he wants a bottle of gin. If not noted by now, this is very strange which makes Justin unconventional, though he'd simply categorize himself as "expressive". He is an artist after all, not that he'd consider himself one at this point. Justin hadn't been able to touch his sketchbook in over six months ever since he lost his inspiration. It was always the same cycle with his muses and they usually seemed to catch on. Once found he cherished you, he picked up his pen, dipped it in ink, and scratch away on a surface while his muse was draped across his bed. He slept with them yes, it was his own way of indulging in art. The art of uniting two bodies was a beautiful thing and one of Justin's favorite emotions present to depict. His favorite time to draw was when light began peering through his drapes, softly imprinting itself onto the muse in her sleep. It was what it was and Justin enjoyed it, he thrived in following this order.

He liked to think of himself immersed in a part of greek mythology with all his muses, having being visited (or met) by the nine muses. He's seen each type after all. Though, his last muse was quintessentially Melpomene, the muse of tragedy, she never did smile. Melpomene, or Melanie, was a sad thing and it transferred on Justin's work. His once joyous and light lines turned heavy and gnarled. She welcomed him into a world of despair and darkness. It was like being sucked into a black hole whenever he was a round her. The tragically beautiful Melanie changed him, opening the doors to new emotions never present in Justin's mind. He became invested and it wasn't what he wanted. Becoming invested meant all he wanted to to do was sketch her, memorize her, and love her. It wasn't right. He didn't want a single inspiration, his work relied on change and progression, growth, not cemented ideas. It was all so draining, promoting Justin to dismiss of Melanie.

And that's where he was now, ever since he sent her away, Justin couldn't pick of a piece of paper without his hands itching to draw those hands of hers or vacant eyes. No matter how hard he searched, he hadn't come across a single woman who sparked his creative interest. Nothing seemed right anymore. Then he thought "Maybe this period is over", the period that consisted study of the female body. Maybe it was the end for Justin's inspirational pull. He tried though, he really did, to draw things outside the human body. He tried landscapes, buildings, animals, nothing, nothing compared to the pleasure received when he made curvy strokes with his pen. And it wasn't all simply passion and arousal, art was his first love and only art, soley, could steal his heart. Regardless, Justin felt like an addict in withdrawal and it was one of those nights he wished he could rewind and go back to the first night he drew Melanie. A good drag of his cigarettes was a good option but that wouldn't make his mind blank, it'd only make it foggy and he wanted empty.

Justin pulled on his coat and walked out of his building, heading to his local liquor store. He was greeted when walking in, the owners had goteen to know him more and more over the last couple of months and always made sure to have his favorites in stock. Justin never bought cheap alcohol either, he didn't believe in it. He considered a lot of things art actually, even alcohol. He grabbed a Broker's Gin and walked straight for the counter. The clerk checked him out, Justin turned his head for just a moment in the midst of fishing for a wallet. What he saw though made him do a double take. His Melpomene stood meters away, holding a case of Abita's, the sight made him fucking grin. A grin. He hadn't felt this juvenile in ever, buoyant over something so effortless. He was reminded how much it amused him that such a cold girl could love fruity drinks. The night Justin learned what Melanie's favorite drink was he had flat out laughed to which she rolled her eyes and took a gulp. He thought it was disgusting. But, not only did he feel winded because of her, but also because there was another who held her hand and kissed the corner of her mouth. The mouth he used to prod and tease. What made everything even more sour was that this "other" was a girl.