Painting It Red (The Oracle Series - Book One)

Chapter 2: Showtime

***Kent is pictured above^^

-Nora-

    Now that I am freshly showered and pumped full of coffee, the pre-show jitters are starting to set in. These solo gallery shows still feel so unreal to me, and I don't know that they will ever feel normal. The idea that people would come to a gallery specifically for my work, and mine alone, is a little tough for me to wrap my head around.

    I keep a thorough photo log of all of my work, both as a portfolio and as a means to continue my research, but there is no way that I could realistically keep all of the originals. Save for a few special pieces, I try to sell those that I can. The pathetic amount of storage space in my studio apartment is getting smaller by the day, so I really have no choice, and a girl's gotta pay the bills somehow, right?

    Quelling my nerves, I smooth my hands down the skirt of my fitted black dress, and straighten out the hem. It lies just above the knee, and oozes professionalism. Paired with a pair of three-inch beige pumps and elegant pearl stud earrings, the outfit isn't my style at all--but I suppose that's because I didn't put it together. Grasping the delicate pearls and slipping the golden posts in place, I try to think back to the last time I wore a pair of pearls. Unsurprisingly, I can't even remember. I'm really not the pearl-wearing type.

    Yuki, my agent, planned every inch of this ensemble and even dictated my hairstyle, a smooth bun to tame my wild fiery hair. Shimmering copper-brown liner lines my eyes, sweeping across my lids and making my green irises pop. The gold undertones in the liner even accentuate that odd little golden fleck in my eye.
   
    On nights like these I wish I could pull off a professional red-lipped look. My hair is a natural crimson color, thus making this impossible. If it was an orangey red I would surely be in the clear, but the red on red is far too bold for a night like tonight and Yuki has made it clear that I am to look the part of a successful businesswoman.

    I've never seen my hair color naturally on anyone else, and while I've grown fond of it, it hasn't always given off a professional vibe. How many respectable businesswomen out there have bright shocks of naturally crimson hair? Rocker chicks and Rihanna maybe, but not many conservative-looking pearl-wearing business owners. I snicker to myself as I realize that if I had a string of pearls around my neck I might even look like Wilma Flintstone--red hair in a bun and all.

    Swiping a coat of pale pink lipstick along my lips, I slip into my heels and give myself a critical once-over. I look like a different version of myself.

    Even though my unmistakable eyes and hair  are a clear give-away, I could almost swear that I was looking at somebody else in that mirror. I pride myself on living life to the beat of my own drum, but even I can't deny Yuki's effectiveness.

    She has turned me into practically an overnight sensation, and she hasn't been wrong once in as long as I've known her. As much as I hate this boring ensemble, I love Yuki more. Without her I would surely still be living week to week and barely getting by.

    When she found me, I was selling the occasional painting here and there at local coffee shops and festivals, but now I'm working around the clock and selling paintings almost as fast as I can produce them. Which, as Yuki puts it, is "lightening fast" as far as production rates go. This is already the second show this month, and she also has me taking on some commissioned projects on the side. She goes above and beyond what I would expect of any agent, and she has wormed her way into a special place in my heart. She's honestly the closest thing to family I have left.

    The black town car she sent for me pulls up to the apartment, and with one last look in the mirror I am out the door and sliding into the cushy leather backseat.