2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter sixteen

*♡  Ellie ♡*

With a crustless PB&J sandwich in hand, I sit down on the metal steps behind the building. I never thought I'd end up working at a museum. The MAX is a small but well-known establishment that exhibits up and coming California-based artists. Contemporary art, mostly. It's packed with locals and tourists every day.

Granted, my job at the food corner isn't nearly as exciting as Jonathan's position as assistant manager, but it keeps me busy and pays the bills. For some reason, the rent is considered affordable. If you ask me, I'd say it's absurdly high. I mean, it's its only a two-bedroom apartment in Haight-Ashbury and my room is basically the size of my mother's walk-in closet. I'm not complaining, though. San Francisco really feels like a new start.

The start of what?

I use all my free time to get my photography business off the ground. It's not like I'm being paid or anything, but I'd like to make a name for myself. So, on my off days, me and my camera stroll through the city and during the nights, I indulge myself in everything there is to know about photography. I even enrolled in some online courses to up my game.

Anything to keep my lonely mind from falling apart.

I swallow down a bite of bread with some iced tea and watch as Jonathan talks to the young artist who will have his art displayed at the museum soon. Well, he's older than me, but he seems young for someone who's already so acknowledged.

Jonathan does a strange-looking shoulder bump while they shake hands and then comes my way. He sits down next to me, hip to hip. "Sitting all by yourself again?"

I shrug once. It's no secret that I'm having a hard time being around people. I guess, I'm having a hard time in general.

He sighs, shaking his head. "You're closer to Los Angeles than you've been in weeks. Why don't you go see him?"

The suggestion makes me shudder. Something inside me is waiting to be ignited, but I can't be selfish. "You know why. Besides, he made it very clear that he has moved on. It's what I wanted to happen."

"That song was pretty brutal." His fingers squeeze my mine. In silence, we both stare at the plastic bag that gets caught by a draft of wind, making it twirl in the air. When the tiny dancer disappears around the corner, Jonathan says, "I have some news that might cheer you up."

I could use a little pick-me-up. "Really? What's that?"

"Did you see that hunk of a man I was talking to?" When I wriggle my brows, he continues. "His name is Aaron and next week, we'll display his art installation in the big hall. There will be a small party the night before. I think you should come."

My eyes drop automatically. "Oh, I don't know. That sounds like fun and I'm not a lot of fun at the moment."

He waves my words away. "You're heaps of fun. You know, if you looks past that blue mood."

Midnight blue.

Perhaps, I can redirect this conversation. "I'm sure you will have a splendid time with Aaron. If I'm not mistaken, you seemed a little stricken by his appearance."

Somewhat dramatically, he grabs my wrist. "They don't make men like that where I'm from. Did you see his arms? It makes a person wonder what his abs are like. Me, being that person. What do you think his—" Jonathan pauses mid-sentence, eying me suspiciously. "Hold on, missy, I know what you're doing. You're abusing my love of talking about myself. It's not going to work this time."

Busted.

I smile innocently. "Can't blame a sad girl for trying."

I'm given a quick glare and a stuck-out tongue. "Anyway, the party is not the only news I wanted to share. A gallery owner, who's looking for some fresh work, will be attending the party. Aaron knows him and promised to make some introductions. It could be an opening for you."