David Li simply wanted to create a name for himself, to paint a brighter future. He never imagined that a chance encounter would propel him down a much darker path, one that would entangle him in a game of life and death broadcasting over generation...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
David didn't know what he had expected, and yet he knew he had hoped for something more extraordinary – some extreme Hail Mary. He had most definitely hoped for more than a showing at just one more gallery in the Arts District.
Some part of him, some rational part currently drowning beneath the shift in his mood, knew that a gallery connection made a great start. It provided a foothold where before he'd been grasping without even a clear view of the rockface.
He blamed Erika for that analogy. All her hiking and rock-climbing was a bad influence on him.
A distraction that you don't need.
He shook that thought aside, returning his mind to Glazer. To the gallery.
The very practicality of the pending suggestion seemed appropriate – a perfect fit with the unassuming artist at Glazer's core. For all the talk about him, the real Glazer was pragmatic, and his advice walked that line, perfectly attune to that of a college art professor or that hyper rational friend that never told anyone what they wanted to hear. In essence, he might as well have been Erika's brother, Frank.
"Well, here's the deal," Glazer started. "There's a little gallery there."
Yep, this was going exactly where David suspected. The parasite in his gut twisted and turned, doing somersaults as he struggled to keep a smile.
"It's not in the main thoroughfare," Glazer continued, "but it's not shoved off in some dark corner either. Just a few blocks past the Umami burger, you'll find it on the right, off 3rd."
Of course it was past an Umami burger. He might as well be offering to hang one of David's paintings at a child's playspace in a mall; perhaps the Glendale Galleria. David laughed internally at the thought, or at least he hoped he had kept that to himself.
Either way, Glazer didn't appear to notice. He was still prattling on. Idiot.
"It's called The Rail Yard," Glazer said. "The owner, well she and I are on good terms and I'd like to have a word with her about you, if you'd be interested."
![Radio Waves of the Macabre [On Hiatus]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/132742278-64-k376577.jpg)