"Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs." -William Shakespeare
Ana's POV
I lay a few of my paintings, that I brought from my house, on the wooden desk in front of me for Mr Malik before I can chicken out. I watch as he intently examines my work, eyebrows frowning every few seconds, worrying me. I silently stand there, trying to gauge his mood while chewing my nails and thinking that this was, indeed, a bad idea.
But it is too late.
His eyes widen and he keeps his index below his chin as he continues his actions, viewing my paintings from every angle. I think he has a look of fascination on his face, but I'm not very sure about it. I feel myself getting more anxious and fidgety as the time passes by. My legs start shaking and my palms become clammy as he sorts my paintings and takes another look at it.
I feel like all my fears and inhibitions from earlier are getting true. I am losing every ounce of my remaining confidence and faith I have in me. I am making myself ready to hear the worst, that I cannot be an artist and that I cannot fulfil my dreams as I stare at Mr Malik.
"Ana," He says, grabbing my attention and I turn to look in his beautiful brown eyes, still chewing my nails. "These are stunning," He speaks staring at the paintings. My eyes widen and I stop chewing my nails as my mouth falls. This simple line lifts the weight off of my shoulders and I sigh, loudly. His appreciation, his praise, something I never got from where I wanted, means so much that I am on the verge of tears.
According to my ex soon-to-be husband, they are shitty, awful and pathetic and that I should throw them in the trash can. He never supported me to do what I wanted to. Everything would be according to his terms. What we had was not love, it was bondage, I was forced to be with him.
This appreciation is so new and raw for me. I always wanted to become an artist even though I never got any encouragement. I was never good at expressing myself when I was younger, drawing helped me to make people understand who I am and how I am. It helped me escape from him until that one awful day when he wrecked my paintings. But it didn't stop me from chasing my dreams.
"Th-Thanks." I stutter.
He turns to look at me with a broad smile on his face. He places his hands on my upper arms and his eyes hold mine. I feel the hair on my skin stand up at his stare.
'Get yourself together Ana', my subconscious reminds me.
"These are exceptionally fabulous. This is one of the best paintings." He holds up a painting, which I drew a few weeks ago. It is a painting that I painted because I was angry, hence the colour red. I remember mindlessly stroking on the paper with different shades of red with tinges of yellow just to release my emotions, it turned out to be one of my best ones. "These are simply beautiful." He smiles brightly at me before a tear slips down cheeks, but I don't think that he sees it, since he's engrossed in my paintings. I wipe it with the back of my hand messily and return the smile.
"Maybe you would want to know the terms, if you want to join?" I nod eagerly.
He motions for me to follow him out of the room and into another one. It is an empty room with white walls and no furniture. I stare at it with a frown between my eyebrows.
"This is where you'll work." Mr Malik says, confusing me. "This is your room, your studio. Decorate it the way you want. The walls are yours to do whatever with it, paint it, leave it, I don't mind. All you need to do is send 4 paintings every month. You can work when you want and at any hour, there are no restrictions." He continues and tells me about other artists that work here and asks me to introduce myself afterwards.
My jaw drops when he tells me that I'd be paid 4000£ every month along with 10% commission on my every painting that would be sold. I, never in a million years, thought that I'd be able to get a chance to fulfil my dream let alone with earning so much money. It feels so right, working on my own for me and my baby and taking a step towards completing my dream.
I never believed myself, not after the day he told me that my paintings were trash and that I should rather be at home then to work. I used to believe that I'd be nowhere with these, but, now, that I'm standing here with a job, which pays me four thousand pounds every fucking month, I believe in me.
"Thank you so much, Mr Malik." I thank and shake hands with him.
"You're welcome, and call me Zayn." He gives a toothless smile.
"Zayn." I nod.
"I'd leave you, now. Have a nice day Ana," He says and turns towards the door before turning to face me again. "Everyone is going to the downtown club tonight, you'd like to join us?"
Nope. I cannot drink, I'm pregnant. "Sure." I say before I can stop myself, instantly regretting it.
"Okay." He leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
I wander and meet Aiden, who started working here just a month ago. He is tall with blonde hair and blue eyes and good fashion sense. I talked with him for a while before meeting other artists. Jane and I got along pretty good. She's a married woman with a son and she's beautiful with a perfect body.
Will I ever be able to get a better body after giving birth to a baby?
Aiden introduced me with Sherly, Ria and Nile, who reminded me of Niall. Well, he looks nothing like Niall, but his name though. Whenever someone calls him, I turn around in hopes of seeing Niall.
"Are you coming to the club, tonight?" Aiden asks.
"You're going too?"
"I planned, so I think I'm going," He says with a straight face before bursting into laughter.
"I didn't know." I defend myself and playfully slap his arms when he continues laughing.
"'Course," He speaks with a smug look.
We talk and I learn a lot about him. His family stays in Birmingham. He has two siblings, Hannah and Hero. He talks about his pet dog, Roko, who is 9. I learned that he studied his Masters from Cambridge and how he used to be liked by everyone, as he puts it.
I can't help, but think the way his pink, full, lips moved perfectly and how it would feel against mi-
"Earth to Ana,"
"What?"
"I just asked you if you are single?" We are sitting on the floor in his studio. The walls are covered with different colours of paint and I know for a fact that he had done this all by himself. Incomplete canvases are lying on the floor along with colour tubes and patches of colour on the floor.
Maybe. I'm pregnant with my ex soon-to-be husband, who I left because I was forced to marry him. Nah, that doesn't seem like a very pleasing statement. "Yes."
He says something under his breath which I cannot catch. "Tell me something about you."
I'm 19, I'm from Wolverhampton. I jeopardise my studies and future for my ass like boyfriend, who didn't care enough for me then I got pregnant with his child and was forced to marry him, but I didn't want to, so I ran just a day before my wedding and ended up here.
Another nah.
"I'm from Wolverhampton and um-I'm here to-work." I fake a smile. He has a look of confusion on his face and before he can say anything I get up and dust my jeans off. "I got to go, Aiden. I'll see you afterwards." With that, I leave the room and go to mine just two doors away.
I don't do much before we leave for the club after nine. I drive myself and wait for all of them to arrive. Aiden is the first to arrive after me. I hear someone call my name, while we are leaving the parking lot, but find no one. He has his hands casually around my shoulders as we walk to the bar. Aiden lets us all in, since he has VIP passes.
The club reeks of alcohol and sweat and is very crowded, I already feel a little sick, but I cannot ditch now. We push ourselves through the swaying bodies and reach the bar. Aiden takes a seat next to me and asks me what I'd like.
"Water."
"What? You don't drink?" Nile asks in disbelief.
"Nope." I casually say.
"Why?" Aiden asks with curiosity.
"Just because I don't."
"Okay." He shrugs. Soon enough, only me and Ria are perched on our seats while everyone is off to do whatever they do at a club.
A guy with brunette hair and blue eyes came and asked Ria if she'd like to dance and she agreed, leaving me with my sixth glass of pure water. The guy's hands are covered in tattoos. A pigeon is inked just above his wrists with many other random tattoos.
I turn my head around to look at the dance floor to see Aiden swaying his body against a blond girl. I suddenly feel something in my body, which I'm quick to shake.
I am getting tired and bored as time passes, so I get up and walk to Aiden to tell him that I'm leaving. He offers to come with me, but I gently decline. He asks me to message him as soon as I reach home and I nod.
The drive to my house is long and uneventful. I send a message to Aiden when I reach home.
Reached home.
He replies to me within a second making me doubt if he's still at the bar.
Okay, Goodnight, Ana.
Night, Aid.
I change into my comfy clothes and plop down on my bed, letting sleep take over me as soon as my head hits the pillow.