Chapter 13 - Whatever (Oasis ; 1994)

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Ross


As per usual, I was the first person to make it into Mr. Way's class the following morning. I didn't sleep much the night before, my mind reeling with the idea that I was going to be heading to Chicago to be creating pieces for an entire display in one of the most renown museums in the nation. Many thoughts accompanied the idea, like how proud my parents will be once I tell them, how Spencer will help me every step of the way there, and how this will get word out about my works.

But, mostly, I thought about Brendon.

Since it had only been decided this would happen yesterday, I hadn't gotten the opportunity to tell him yet. I will be telling him today, however. I plan to have him meet me at the studio and I can tell him all the details there.

I brought all of my things to my easel, placing my messenger bag on the floor and flipping it open to pull out my utensils. I place them evenly on the easel and consider starting a small sketch just as I hear the classroom door opening. I lift my head to face the doorway, and find myself smiling as I see Brendon enter the classroom.

"Ryan," he says with a soft smile as he walks toward me. "Hi. Do we have class today?"

I nodded my head as he stepped in front of me, placing my hand on his hip. "W-we do," I started as I pulled him toward me, "we're j-just really early."

Brendon let out a soft groan of annoyance and I laughed at how childish he sounded. "I thought I was going to be late, what the hell," he mumbled quietly. "Oh well," he continued, clasping his hands together at the nape of my neck. "Just means I get to do this." He pressed his lips to mine after he finished speaking and I couldn't help but smile into the kiss.

I took both of his hips into my hands and pulled his body against mine as he deepened our kiss briefly before pulling away, a seemingly permanent smile etched onto his face. I snaked my arms around his waist and held him close as he rested his chin on the top of my head, and my mood was falling before I could even notice it.

I'm going to miss this so much.

I pulled back and looked into Brendon's shining eyes, my smile mimicking his against my will as I opened my mouth to speak. Just before I could get anything out, the door to the classroom was opening and Mr. Way was strolling in along with a few other students. I sighed softly and looked to Brendon once more. "M-meet me at the studio l-later, okay? I have something to t-tell you."

He nodded softly, placing a soft kiss to my forehead before making his way to his stool in the center of the room. I finished setting up my station as the rest of the students piled in, the easels filling up in just a matter of seconds. I let my eyes lazily roam around the room trying to distract myself from these outside noises so I could think of exactly how I was going to tell Brendon about Chicago. I know he'll be supportive and happy for me, but I also know that he's going to be sad, which is expected.

I'm shaken from my thoughts by Mr. Way clapping his hands together to get the class' attention. "Good morning, class," Mr. Way started gently, earning some responses from the class. "First off, I wanted to thank you all for how kind and respectful you were to Mr. Iero on Monday, and I trust you will show the same amount of respect when he returns next month."

We all nodded, mine a little more timid because I knew when he came back, it would be to collect me and take me to Chicago with him. I sighed heavily as he continued speaking, trying to stray away from those thoughts.

"One of the things he commented on the most about all of your works," Mr. Way continued proudly, "was how all of you paid close to attention to detail in all of your works. Of course, all of you have different interpretations of your art, and that is amazing, but all of you used your detailing techniques perfectly. Which is why," he said, a smirk appearing on his face, "your assignment today is to focus on detail. Brendon, could you come here please?"

Brendon arose from his stool and waked over to Mr. Way, standing next to him patiently, looking very small and timid next to him.

"Brendon," Mr. Way continued, "would you please remove your shirt?"

Brendon's eyes widened.

My eyes widened.

The rest of the class gasped softly.

"Go on, Brendon," Mr. Way encouraged softly.

Brendon's face reddened softly as he nodded, grabbing the hem of his plain black shirt, lifting the material over his head and holding it in his hands timidly.

"Your assignment today," Mr. Way spoke, "is to capture every detail that you see on Brendon's upper body. I want you to get each muscle, each dimple in the skin, the way his arms cast shadows against his chest, everything." Mr. Way ushered Brendon back to the center of the room and then turned to us once again. "You have the remainder of the class to complete your assignment. Begin."

I let my eyes fall onto Brendon's bare chest, feeling my face heat up immensely as I did so. I gulped softly, picking up my charcoal pencil and pressing it to the canvas with a heavy hand. I took a deep breath as I began to sketch the picture that was in front of me. Brendon had on arm hung by his side as the other crossed his chest to grab onto it, and his head was turned to his right, staring down at the ground. He looked beautiful, like always, and I felt like this was another challenge for me.

I started at his waistline, deciding to draw up from there, leaving his legs out of the picture. I started with the shapes of his hips and waist, detailing his figure first before drawing the details on his actual body. Once the frame was established, I began working at his pelvic muscles, shading in the definitions in the v-shaped form. I then began working around the navel. Defining the muscle structure there wasn't hard, not because he didn't have any, but because they were relatively symmetrical, so it was basically just repetitive.

His pectorals were the same, pretty symmetrical for the most part, so they were just as easy. I moved down to defining the way his arms were set across his body, detailing the muscles in his biceps and forearms and how they were strained to keep their positions. Drawing his profile was something so normal to me, I could almost do it with my eyes closed. He had the perfect facial structure, one that I could spend forever memorizing.

As I finished the sketch, so did the rest of the class, with just a few minutes of class to spare. Mr. Way smiled softly and motioned at Brendon to put his t-shirt back on as he stepped into the center of the room. "Good work today, class," he said softly. "Place your works on my desk as you exit the room please."

We all started to pack away our things when Mr. Way began speaking again. "Before I forget," he said excitedly, "I would like your attention again please."

We all stopped to look at him, and for some reason, I felt a knot forming in my chest.

"I would like you all to congratulate Mr. Ryan Ross," he said with a broad smile, "because he has been chosen by Mr. Iero to travel to Illinois next month to piece together a display for The Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago."

I heard claps resonate around me, but I wasn't focused on their praise.

I was more focused on the hurt look in Brendon's eyes just before he turned and exited the classroom.

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