Chapter 3: Ch. 3

     Kei is lugging his easel up a flight of stairs. He could have left it at home and used one in the classroom but his has the height adjustment that fits him just right and he won’t compromise his chance to be the most efficient in his work. This doesn’t mean it’s not a pain in the ass to move. The winding staircase in the Arts Building is architecturally beautiful, but it’s not very friendly to new comers trying to find their way or to those carrying heavy supplies. Kei passes an incredibly tall man who looks quite lost.  “they said third floor. What? No. I dont know. You’re the one who used to go to school here. How should I know?” The man paces in a circle asking someone on the phone for help. “Sherry, honestly, you were a trash student weren’t you?” He laughs. Kei closes his eyes listening to the laugh. It’s a deep rumble. Kei likes the even tone of it.  “Hold on I’m gonna ask this guy for help.” Kei has already put distance between them. Don’t ask me. Don’t ask me. Keep walking. Just find a map. He does not want to interact. He wants to get to class, set up his easel early, and have enough time to import some of his photos online before class starts.

     Kei manages to get half way up the next flight of stairs before he hears a friendly “Excuse me?” The voice is tempting to respond to, smooth and warm. Yes, his voice was very attractive. What Kei saw of the guy wasn’t bad either. He didn’t get a good look but what he glimpsed was tall, broad, with an angular face and strong features. He’s a perfect body for a reference. The kind Kei would have liked painting. “Hey man! Excuse me!” The man calls again. His voice seems much closer now. Kei under estimated those long legs. Taking two stairs at a time the man almost catches up with him. Kei keeps walking. He refuses to turn around or acknowledge that he heard the call. Please leave me alone. The man sighs into the phone. “Never mind. He didn’t hear me. I don’t know. Maybe he had headphones in. Don’t be like that. HA! You’re an art student too! You saying you’d do that on purpose?” The mans deep laugh rumbles again. He’s a good person. He didn’t assume the worst from me. He should have listened to his friend. I did flat out ignore him.. But it’s cute he tried to make an excuse for me. Kei makes it to class with time to spare. He sets up his easel and sits in the supply room to update his portfolio on his laptop. There’s a mumbling outside. He hears that deep laugh again talking to the professor “I get lost easily so it’s really my fault. I’m just glad I left early” Kei can hear Professor Wells’ loud clapping. He’s annoying in that way. He’s a great professor and Kei values his experience and opinion, but the man claps his hands too much. Kei doesn’t appreciate sudden noises so enduring a conversation with Professor Wells can make his eyes twitch. I should head back out.. But then it would just be the three of us. That sounds bothersome. I’ll stay in here until more students show up. Kei calls it bothersome but he really means awkward, and Kei does not like awkward situations. He hates being embarrassed more than anything. To him, being the center of a conversation is worse than most anything else. If he were asked to submit to public humiliation or step on rusty nails, he’d take the nails. 

     After the class has audibly filled in, Kei sneakily takes his seat. His classmate Kayla leans in and whispers “Beefcake at 12 o’clock. Where does Professor Wells find these people!?” Kei huffs a laugh humoring her “Probably the side of the road. That, or circus runaways. This guy was the man on stilts, but they saved money on the stilts.” she giggles “I’d pick up that hitchhiker. And if he’s in the circus, then call me a circus monkey. I’d climb that.” This is the first time Kei gets a good look at the man. Jens apparently. It’s a gentle sounding name that doesn’t suit his imposing build. Well over six foot, broad as all get out and a chiseled face, Jens should have been terrifying, but his charming smile seems to put everyone at ease. Kei may be a painter but even he wants to break out a slab of marble to carve this face into it. Strangely, this man is already looking at Kei.. and wont look away. In fact, he’s hardly blinking. Kei’s nerves prick at him under the scrutiny. Is something on my face? Does he know it was me who ignored him in the hall way? Will he pick a fight? Pretend to listen Kei. Focus. Why is he still looking? What am I even wearing today? He tries to glance at his outfit inconspicuously. It was nothing strange. An oversized shirt, in-style baggy pants, a belt and his backpack. Kei decides this is a Jens issue. Yes, Jens has a staring problem. Kei watches his interactions with the professor. Every time he smiles it seems fake, polite by nature but disinterested in reality. Kei sighs, another self centered brat who wants free self portraits. Kei mentally prepares himself to use the same “Sorry I need to keep this for my portfolio. No you cant have it” line. So often the models try to take his portraits from him for free.

     He’s heard this spiel before. Professor Wells reiterates the same things every class. Focus on shadows, adjust as needed, the model is alive there for- capture their personality. That last part is what Kei has always struggled with the most. Capturing emotion. He doesn’t know how to do it. His work always falls flat. All of his professors rip their hair out over his unmet potential. “You have all the technical skill! There is not a single thing I could teach you about the physical application of your work. But Kei, where is the feeling?” Or  “If I wanted an emotionless image, I would have bought a stock photo!” Kei was used to it, but that didnt make it hurt less. That also didn’t help his already rocky confidence in his work. Kei wants to be good at what he loves. Ideally he wants to do what he loves for a living. But with this major aspect of his work missing, that dream seems unrealistic. Fighting the sinking feeling in his chest that comes from remembering just how truly unskilled he is, Kei draws the shape of jens back. He takes a moment to be thankful Jens’ eyes weren’t boring into him anymore. It was a good back. Strong, broad, spotless. His skin was a rich warm color and his hair was a unique red-brunette. The light made it look golden. This man was a good subject, even with his self doubts as an artist, it felt good to draw Jens. Kei could admit that much.

    What is this discomfort? Kei gets the feeling someone is looking over his shoulder. When he looks to his side, he sees Jens staring at his work with a puzzled look. His face is plain as day. His every emotion was visible. Kei couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently that pissed him off, or maybe he was still grumpy about getting lost. “Well maybe you drew it wrong” This man was more immature than he looks. And for his large build he had a gentler tone than expected. Kei likes teasing him, which is rare. He seldom enjoys banter. Some people call him funny or say they love his sarcastic and dry sense of humor, but Kei just says what he thinks. It’s not his fault if people read into it as a joke. In truth, it has probably saved him more than once that his truth got taken as a joke. He might have been in more fights in high school if people didn’t assume he was just hazing. 

    After the first break was over Kei notices something. Jens was also wittier than expected. Clearly annoyed by the professors clapping and shoulder patting, Jens put a scalding hot coffee into his hands. A well mannered and tactful way to shut up those obnoxious palms. Class has never been so peaceful before. Kei appreciates this.

    Facing Jens is much more intense than anticipated. For some reason Jens is zeroing in on him. Kei’s familiar with the male gaze. He had his fair share of time at gay bars in his early college days. Kei also prefers one night stands over serious relationships, so men being interested in him physically feels natural. But this was not that kind of gaze. This is a confused, reluctant attraction. The complexity of emotion on jens face stresses Kei out. I can handle horny or I can handle angry. I cannot handle hornrgy. Kei tries his best to ignore the daggers being sent his way, at least until he finally sees a familiar expression- lust. Kei wants to roll his eyes.. To be in a situation like this and be so obviously eye fucking a stranger. Kei could tell jens deep-set hazel eyes were keen on seduction. Kei was also sure Jens has nothing short of an overflowing sea of willing participants to exert his lust. Still, he wants no part of it. This is not the time for a half chub. He wishes Jens could read the room, but the thought of being so tactless as to lose control of your lower half in public? It makes Kei laugh. This guy is interesting. Not only is he interesting, he’s captivating. Every line Kei places on the paper feels right. He never questions himself once. Jens face falls into place, laid out before him. In the sketch, Jens’ self denial is palpable. His complex emotions easily legible on paper.

     Second break rolls around. Oh! Look, he’s embarassed and scrambling away! Kei watches Jens hide away in the supply room. Kei’s lip snarls at the idea of needing to walk in as Jens unpacks the reality of his public boner. But I really do need charcoal.. Kei reluctantly enters the supply room. Jens is more emotional over this than he thought. He tries to be comforting and tell Jens to relax but the absurdity of the situation manages to give him a sarcastic tone. Kei is not good at talking to people.. he does it as little as possible. So why does he want to poke fun at Jens so much? “You gave me.. a lot to work with” This was very out of character for Kei. Maybe it was to see Jens’ reaction. Maybe it’s because the small room intoxicated Kei with the smell of Jens’ subtle cologne. Maybe it was just that there is a handsome, (No, sexy? ..No, definitely handsome) face infront of him and Kei hasn’t gotten laid for awhile. What ever it was that possessed Kei in that moment, Jens apparently took it as a challenge.

     This guy is a mad man! To be so bold! How could he stare at Kei with those bedroom eyes while at full mast? Did Kei hear the professor just say he asked Jens to do this? What the hell is going on in this classroom! Kei’s gay panic sets in. How can he fight his own body’s response to this? This soft core porn sitting in front of him made it difficult to think. He has to remain professional. Despite trying his hardest, Jens massive.. personality.. was staring at Kei like looking down the barrel of a rifle. It makes him nervous and anticipatory at the same time. The filthy look Jens is giving him catches the breath in his throat. He fights to keep his skin from heating up. He forces all his focus into his sketch. Every time he looks back to Jens he can practically see his wettest imagination running wild. The urge to get to his knees over whelms him. His hand moves on the paper with no hesitation. Despite his every nerve feeling like they’re snapping, his hands are steady. 

     He wants to touch it badly, but instead he settles for drawing it. As he drew, the lines seem to move themselves. Kei’s hands are on fire. Capturing every minuscule detail that changes. More. I want to see more. By the end of the session, Jens dick is weeping. I want to lick it. In Kei’s pants, he’s in a similar state. Looking at his paper, his final product is a hazy piece that’s raw and full of passion. Kei has never seen a piece like this come from his hands. This was emotion. This is what he was after. Jens has what he is after. As long as Jens is infront of him being blatantly emotional with all his thoughts written on his face, Kei too, can capture those feelings. He wishes he could bottle them and save them for a rainy day. Kei doesn’t know why he follows Jens out that day. He didn’t know he was moving his feet until he was standing outside the bathroom. He paces outside the door for awhile. Why am I here. What did I want to say? No, Kei knew he just wanted to see Jens face a bit longer. He wants to take in every detail so he can carve it into his canvas later. Kei enters the bathroom. The stall is closed. Kei hears a suspicious noise, the sound of friction and uneven breathing. Kei’s hips ache at the thought. No, I didnt follow him in here because of my art. Clearly it was lust driven. Jens can’t offer me anything any another model can’t. I’m the artist, I decide what has emotion or not. This fascination starts and ends with the fact that I haven’t been touched in months.

     Kei is knocking on the door before he he can stop himself. This boldness is unlike him. Usually reserved and disinterested, he suddenly feels overly confident and bold. Jens’ confusion of the situation eggs Kei on further. The skittish nature of a man who seems too cocky to be skittish is a sight to behold. The moment Jens has Kei pressed up against the wall, he realizes he’s made a mistake. For Kei finds himself heart broken over not being able to see the feeling on Jens’ face. The feral growl and heavy breaths in his ear make his knees feel weak. The too-rough hand clumsily gripping him feels like the only thing tying him to this world. The hot stiff appendage wetting his inner thighs, pressing and chaffing him in all the right ways- it’s all too much to handle. Kei wants nothing more than to memorize every detail of Jens. This feels dangerous. Not because they’re in public and might be caught at any moment. No, as thrilling as that is, this is dangerous because Kei is suddenly wishing to rely on Jens to capture his ever present self expression. A confident, strong but kind and simple minded man- Kei wants to be consumed by it. “Good!- good!!” Those are the only words he can choke out. What he wants to scream is “No not yet! I don’t want this to end yet” Was he always this whiny? Was he always this needy? No. He just wants to see as much of Jens face as possible.

     “What’s your name?” Jens is staring at him through the mirror. That cum-dazed look suits him. “Kei.. Kei, got it” the sound of his now hoarse voice wrapping Kei’s name is blissful. His face and tone imply he had already chosen a name for Kei before he told him. At least he doesn’t seem disappointed.

 

     Sprinting back upstairs to Professor Wells’ office, Kei’s slightly damp underwear reminds him of Jens. Kei enters the professors office.

“Get all your errands done?”

“Yes, sorry professor”

“Take a seat you look out of breath. You must have run back here”

Kei sits down across from Professor Wells

“Kei, your work today exceeded my expectations”

“Thank you sir”

“How would you feel about submitting one of these to the exhibit at the end of the school year”

“…sir I really don’t think-“

“No. No, don’t tell me your work isn’t good enough. That’s the thing with you Kei- your work moves people yet you lock it away like a deformed child”

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Kei makes a face. What is my art, Quasimodo? This feels not very PC “I don’t think that’s the best analogy- but I understand your concern. Honestly, I just don’t feel like these pieces would hold up beside professional work”

“This is professional work Kei! You are a professional. That’s why you’ve been in school as long as you have. You think you’re not qualified but you quite literally are! Both in degrees and skill.”

Kei appreciates Professor Wells constant support. Of all his Professors, he has been the one who pushes Kei to succeed the most. Wells is also his self assigned mentor. Kei didn’t ask him to help break into the career field, but he offered to help while asking for nothing in return. Kei needs that. As much as he likes to believe he’s self sufficient, he thrives best with encouragement. Though he might not know it himself.

“which figure would you recommend?”

The professor slides over the last pose

“This.”

“That was just the sketch, It’s not even complete, it- I mean I changed it multiple times, you can see how sloppy the adjustments are” Kei is frustrated. Being able to clearly see where improvements can be made, he can’t understand why Professor Wells chose this one.

“Because you made those adjustments in real time. It’s like you just finally listened to my lecture. THAT is what makes this piece so special. You followed his movements. You were able to catch a vision from this that I could not see- and I was in the same room! You’re a perfectionist. That’s what makes your skill so brilliant. But..something like this. Something where you let go, loosen up a bit. Now you’re really shining.”

The professor slides the page to look at it again “and Jens is a very talented model- but your interpretation of him is what is so incredible”

The professor holds up the page “There is eroticism but it is not crude. It’s matter of fact- but his expression is intense. He looks- conflicted.”

The professor puts down the page “Please just consider working on a few pieces for the show. If you’re interested, I’d like to go ahead and contact the exhibit directors.”

Kei is staring at Jens face on the page. He can see it too. This is unlike anything he’s ever produced. “Can I think about this?”

“Tell me by the end of the week. You should make your decision fast if you want to have enough time to get your work done”

“Okay, thank you professor”

“Ah- and I’ll send you Jens contact information. I believe he would be very useful to you for other projects. You should contact him about modeling for the exhibit pieces…if you decide to do it, that is.” The professor claps “I think you found your muse!”

“Thank you sir. I’ll seriously consider it”

 

       Kei leaves the room quietly, but internally alarms are going off. NO. No, NO! Kei could not accept a muse. In Kei’s mind, to have a muse is to surrender himself to an eternity of misery, destined to only paint one thing for the rest of his life. He promised himself he would never fall into that trap. The thought of losing his focus, to only care about one thing, it was terrifying. He believed if a modern day artist needed a muse, then they were unskilled. To only be able to pull inspiration from one place..it’s horrific and unsustainable. He’s not my fucking muse. Kei will never accept a muse. If Kei had to choose between having a muse or enduring public humiliation, he’d choose the humiliation. 

Kei closes his car door roughly and sighs heavily. Why? why can’t I just paint because I love it? Why must I make something of it? I’ll never be good enough to put my work in a show like that…my work is- uninspired. I have no drive. I have the skill down but no emotion. He looks to the portfolio on the seat beside him So what about today was so inspirational

 

 

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