Thomas tried to concentrate on his art piece, but his mind kept wandering elsewhere. He had reminded himself, twice in fact, the the person he was supposed to be drawing had green eyes, and dyed red hair, not golden brown eyes and dirty blonde hair. And she was a girl. Sighing in dissatisfaction at his half finished work, he placed the paper back into his folder and packed away his tools. He knew that he shouldn't be procrastinating, but he also knew his work would be marginally better if he was actually focused on his art.
Pulling out his phone, he quickly texted his sister Teresa.
-Thomas: hi
-Teresa: hey Tom
-Thomas: can I stop by the studio? I'm bored out of my mind :)
-Teresa: sure little brother ;) just make sure you don't bother me for a while, a potential is coming over
-Thomas: thanks. Also, I'm older than you, little sister
-Teresa: ;)
Thomas involuntarily grinned at his sister's antics. He was actually older, but only by a week or so. Teresa was adopted, but she and Thomas were closer than most siblings. It was just a complete coincidence that they both were very 'of the arts.' Meaning that Thomas' drawings were looking amazing by the time he was ten, and he only got better, and Teresa could pick up any instrument and in ten minutes she would basically be able to play it. This is what had led to their respectable career choices. Thomas was studying art in college, trying to get used to be told what to draw and not just drawing whatever, and Teresa, after deciding that anyone who would choose to participate in more than the required level or education was half mad, at least on some level, chose to skip college altogether and just open a recording and playing studio. Not that her lack of a diploma was affecting her business. In fact, she was becoming mildly famous in the area.
Thomas had tried for a year to get her to stop calling her clients 'potentials' (they're people, not subjects Teresa) but to no avail. She would invite them to her studio to jam, and if she decided they were good she offered them a contract. Thomas long referred to this as selling your soul to a crossroads demon, at which point Teresa usually elbowed him in the stomach. Although, he probably shouldn't make fun of her line of work, seeing as he regularly made album cover art, and when it first opened he had painted the works covering the walls for Teresa, which she had insisted on paying him for. Ignoring the remaining thoughts of Newt the boy from the train, Thomas grabbed his keys and art folder and headed outside, determined to take a taxi instead if public transport, despite the extra cost, just to save himself the possible embarrassment of seeing the boy again. The studio wasn't more than a 10 minute car drive away anyways, it wouldn't be that expensive. Probably.
Authors Notes:
Yay, part 3 complete!
I'm not sure I like where this story is going, but the only way forwards is, well, forwards. I should totally get into professional literature, the line above truly proves I have a way with words.
Bye!
- @slim_it_shuck_face