Wax Wings- XII

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"What... are you two doing?" A woman's voice asked unsure. Something false instantly warped onto Hayden's face; it was so fast, so sudden, that even though he turned towards the doorway the instant a sound was made- a mask had already been set against his face with no hint of what I saw.

"Ah, Ms. Lexington," he smiled sweetly, "You came at a perfect time."

"Did I?" She asked unsure. She tilted her head down and evaluated me. "Alys."

"Hello" I said uneasy.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she inquired again. My jaw tightened uncomfortably. Hayden had said that all I needed was in this room, I looked around suddenly unsure of what it was; I already had all my own pencils and papers. What else would I need for my drawings?

Hayden watched her patiently as she adjusted her grip on some books, until his voice broke through the air. It was gentle but somehow rough. "I believe you had inquired the school about the tribute?" He finally said. My eyes swiftly glanced to him; realizing it was she whom we needed. This all felt odd, confusing. I tried to keep any visual uncertainty devoid from my face as I racked my brain for answers. It was the word tribute that was familiar, I remembered quite a commotion about it a good few months back.

Ms. Lexington studied my face within these few seconds since Hayden's words. Her brown eyes seemed to scan mine, interpreting my form as some thought turned within the back of her skull. "Yes, I had. But that was at the beginning of the year. It's too far gone now." She answered. But the man next to me didn't move; he watched her politely, ever encouraging her to keep the conversation going. Reluctantly though, as I could see her jaw tighten in slight annoyance.

"She's a brilliant artist," Ms. Lexington conceded to Hayden lightly, "I'll give you that. But I don't think Alys is capable. No offense hun," she waved lightly to me as she walked to her desks, "But you're blank, detached."

I had no idea what she was saying, so I kept my lips pressed thin. "And you," she stared down Hayden, "You are not in the least bit artistic. I know for a fact you can't do it. So why have you come here?"

Hayden had raised his eyebrows slightly at her accusations, but even so he laughed off her attitude. I wondered if he knew the truth about her. She purposely put the bite in her words; it would keep her from being walked over by students if they knew the true patience and compassion. And she was smart to put up such an illusion.

"Because in all honestly, I thought my school would have figured out something by now." he said coolly, and that sparked a slight irritation within her eyes. He continued as if he hadn't noticed. "The tribute was going to be revealed at the end of the year, though from what I remember it wasn't quite decided what form it would take. I believe you had voted for a mural?"

"Yes, I had." she crossed her arms. "I found a couple of students who would have been willing to help me, but they ended up backing out. That was at the beginning of the year though, and we're a few months off from the end. What do you two expect to do, paint a whole wall by yourselves?"

Hayden watched her patiently. "Of course not," he finally said. "I have no idea how to paint. It would be ridiculous to allow me to help that way."

Both Ms. Lexington's eyes and mine found him.

"You've got to be kidding me." She asked dubious. But he didn't say anything. Instead, cold glacial eyes shifted to me and waited. I felt the sweat dampen my hands as. I opened my mouth to refuse his outrageous offer, but my tongue lost its dance of words. I realized this was a test.

My fingers were pressed tight into my palms, the knuckles white and aching. I strained my hands to keep the tremor from revealing itself... to keep the tick; the need at bay. Those grey eyes were still watching my face, but I knew he could see their struggle. They seemed to say, are you really going to deny your very core what it wants? Those hands their need to move?

I stared into those void eyes. He was right.

I inhaled deeply and looked away from them. "I can do it," I said softly to the woman across from me. Her brows creased together at my words, but there was no trace of acceptance in her face. Hayden remained passive beside me as he too watched my hesitant form. The test, I noted, was how committed I was to this. Was I worth this puppet master's time?

"I don't mean to sound insolent," I calmly said, fighting my dancing fingers, "But in your art class- I never really got to, uh, spread my wings, so to speak." I smiled slightly at the attempt to describe the feeling. It was more than true; I was forced to create bland images that represented none of the true reality, my version of reality.

"So you want to make a mural that should take ten or more students?" Her gaze narrowed, and she shook her head. "No Alys, I'm sorry. It's too much work, and it doesn't even have a thumbnail drawn out to discuss. You'd maybe, and I mean maybe, get one fourth done at most. And it's just not enough."

"You're wrong," I found myself saying. I knew those eyes were still upon me. "Have you never seen the videos of the street artist painting a whole building side? Do you really doubt my capability is any less than theirs?" I had never been so conceited about my drawings, never took pride in them when others praised my school projects. But now was different. They represented my inner chaos, the excitement, desperation, to get revenge. They were unlimited.... unstoppable.

Ms. Lexington set her books down and evaluated me again. "Yes; the student who can create a photograph from just mere lead and paper. I'm well aware of your ability, Alys. I'm also aware of your lack of drive."

My brows creased together in confusion, before I finally got what she was saying. I smiled. I couldn't help myself. "Because I barely drew in your class?"

She nodded. "Yes, you'd sketch your projects. But you hated presenting your work, and even more so- I knew you resented all of the assignments I gave to you. I tried changing methods, allowing you landscape, portraits, and still-lives, but no matter the medium I set before you I did not see the gleam in your eyes. You'd blankly scan the item, robotic and uncaring, and your hand would effortlessly mimic what you saw. The outcome?"

Her hands rose to reveal some of my work, tucked far in the corner of the wall- up there as reference for what students should strive far, "Blank, emotionless, reflections." her soft voice concluded.

"What I wanted was a testament to the uniqueness of this school, the strength of our soul and the weight of our words. It would be a mural of who we are; it would be something all the younger generations could look up to and stare at in disbelief. The tribute I had in mind would have been something Universities and Colleges begged for within their stadiums, auditoriums, libraries, and walls." Ms. Lexington closed her eyes to this fantasy, letting her words fade away. "I'm aware I can't get that. The time has long since passed, and none of the students wanted to stay and help me with my farewell."

"Farewell?" I asked.

"Yes," she said blankly, eyes still closed, "Didn't you know, this is my last year here."

I pondered her quietly, studying her face and hidden emotions. I was undecided on how I wanted to entangle her in my words, but I knew more than anything- she felt she had pegged my personality to the T and she wouldn't hear any words about my sudden 'need to spread my wings'. Pretending to have a random inclination to draw was not what she wanted to hear.

"The colleges will talk about it," I said quietly. Her eyes opened to that and stared at me. "They will have to. After all, that is why I truly want to make this. I want to do something.... unheard of... to stand out at last. To show everyone something they've never seen before." I lowered my chin slightly as my gaze burned into hers, "You have my word I won't lack in emotion. You have my word that this will be something so intense, all heads will have no choice but to turn its way. And it will be done in time. The colleges will hear about this, because I intend this to be the act the gets me into the highest art schools there is. My future depends on it."

Ms. Lexington's eyes were wide, seeing something she had never seen before.

Finally, she grinned.

"Well now."

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I stared down at my empty side bag. I felt like I was in some surreal alternate universe and it made my mind hazy. The journal was no longer with me. Even though I had hundreds, just having one detached felt like a piece of my mind was missing. But it was poisoned now, in the grasps of that man. And it felt like that connection was a leash he had gripped, and my brain lay on the other end.

I couldn't fathom why he refused to return it. He had already seen what I had drawn, he had already fully grasped that I knew his true nature. But his hand still swooped over the book the moment I tried to reach for it as Ms. Lexington went about her business. Those eyes held no emotion, but that head shook slightly while looking at me, "No. I'm keeping this."

I couldn't fight him, I wanted away too immensely. I didn't care about tearing away that physical part of my subconscious, just for the peace running away provided. But I wasn't prepared for the feeling afterwards, the realization that Hayden had ownership to part of my subconscious... and just knowing his fingertips dragged along the edges of my mind made a sickening sensation wash over me. I should have never run away, I should have just taken it back with force.

Despite what he told me, I wasn't an idiot. I didn't doubt his ability to help me get revenge, but I wasn't naïve enough to believe he wouldn't do something to betray me. And even if he didn't deceive me, even if he kept his word, I still despised him. I despised people like him. I couldn't let myself become a permanent tool. A permanent puppet.

I tightened my eyelids shut and lowered my head into my knees. School was unfortunately still in session, but I refused to go to Jackson's class. Or any others. The edge of the library that I was tucked into wasn't highly trafficked. My eyes rose to scan the endless encyclopedias, thesauruses, and dictionaries. Despite the lack of dust here, I knew that these books had not been touched in years.

I breathed in deep and glanced down to one of the papers within my grasps. Ms. Lexington decided because we didn't have a rough sketch created for the mural, we would just have to wing it piece by piece. She would approve each section I made before I could move on to the next.

The fear began to circulate my system. I had been so stupid to think she wouldn't notice if I put hidden innuendos or lewd acts within the mural. I began to panic wondering how it was going to be done. Would people understand the reference to deceit and vulgar doings if I painted them into the background? Or would it be too obvious and lead to Ms. Lexington noticing them and enforcing my expulsion. I wondered if we could bribe her into letting me paint unsupervised until the unveiling at graduation.

But as my mind raced a hundred miles per hour, Hayden merely smiled and talked with her about the requirements. I could see something beneath his mask. Though his lips were merely pulled into a slight smirk... I felt like at the moment something dark inside of him grinned from ear to ear. Yes, I realized, he was laughing like a maniac on the inside.

I watched him with a cautious gaze. He glanced to me for a brief instant. My face must have shown my unease and distrust.

His eyes wavered for a moment, like he was about to look back towards the babbling sheep, but that gaze never managed to break away. I felt like his pupils contracted slightly in understanding as they bore into me during those seconds. I lowered my gaze quickly, trying to rid my face of my distress.

Finally he turned back towards the woman, and assured her we could get it all done it time. But the atmosphere between us had changed. For the first time, he realized someone was peering into his head. For the first time, he realized, he was the sheep being watched.

I frowned uncomfortably. It almost seemed like he reinforced his mask, because I lost sight of the amused flicker within his eyes. All that could be seen now were two grey voids, telling nothing of what was within them. But for a moment, I thought that smile tightened oddly. Like it had become sharp.

Like it had become a blade.

Ms. Lexington saw none of this. How could she? At the moment she was being swept away by the young man in front of her. Hayden could read her as well as I could, and knew all the right things to say. He addressed his concern for timeliness, primarily in the sense that the school might reprimand us if we devote our time to this instead of some of those pointless extra classes we took to keep our schedules full.

And she instantly shook her head, though she had no idea he had set her up for this mind set, or her next decision. Ms. Lexington was obviously pleased by his caution and informed him that as long as we were already passing those classes, she could get consent from the school and allow us to complete those miscellaneous credits under her care. Hayden and I would be provided with as much time as they could to finish this, as long as it didn't affect our core classes. Apparently this plan had already developed by the school when they first tried to create this tribute project. I knew Hayden was aware of it and that's why he brought it up.

He gave no hint of being troubled about the idea of Ms. Lexington having to approve every piece, and even seemed to encourage it- complimenting her creative eye and the critiques she might offer. As I watched her, I knew she would catch any hidden messages I painted, so I couldn't understand Hayden's dismissive attitude to the very thing that could end this. But of course, he obviously knew something that I didn't. He already had a plan, and it seemed my part in this stage was done. He didn't need my help with creating the recipe for this disaster.

But I guess that was the point of a master, after all.

Again my eyes tightened as I watched that paper within my grasp, my eyes tracing over every word and phrase as I read the plans within the library's safe walls. The mural was to be huge, representing a whole stone wall within the new stadium that the school had built specifically for social events and not for sports.

This stadium was an architect's dream, and instead of being perfectly square, it had an addition to its main entrance; a trapezoid design giving the entrance it's immense in size. That large area was illuminated with vast glass ceilings for ample light. And beneath those high vaulted beams and windows, the mural would stretch across the plane of the stone wall entrance.

It would be truly beautiful, once I had painted it. Though I doubted after they realized what was there, it would stay. But all the same, my fingers itched to spread paint along its stone and cement face; whether out of artistic need or revenge I did not know.

For in reality, I could not deny I had already decided the way I would construct this mural. Even if my art revealed the lies and deceits of this school, there was no way I could make it hideous. The new stadium was a testament to the cultured and intellectual accomplishments. It gave the feel of a higher learning institution, and I knew I had to compliment that. I would paint this mural like the great Cathedrals of the world as they were the first places to offer knowledge.

I could almost feel the rhythm I would take for each brush stroke that would create an intense, abstract, and layered mural- not unlike the great Greek and Roman paintings. I knew even Ms. Lexington, who probably suspected bright colors and childish looks, would be stunned and emotional at the creation beneath my hands. But very much like Michelangelo Buonarroti, my work would have hidden messages and secret images. And I just prayed she wouldn't take it to heart.

Until then, I wondered how I could paint the truths and realities of my hideous school within them. And how I could draw the sheep's eyes to it, after it was accomplished. I imagined Hayden's gaze as it burned with his excitement, and couldn't help but to wonder his plan.

I set the murals requirements aside as I grasped a heavy paper from the floor. I watched it silently. The page didn't tremble within my fingers, for at the moment the tick had been satiated with this one drawing and finally had remained still. I studied it quietly; pondering its mental weight for it had been enough to appease the tick in one fell swoop. It was the first time, in a long time, that I had done a self-portrait.

"Found you," a male voice said. For a moment, my heart leapt through my throat, but once I looked up, it was only Tim who stood before me. I exhaled begrudgingly, and looked back down towards my art dismissively. "Right," he laughed slightly, "I guess I deserve that."

Without saying anything he wandered over to me and sat down. He pulled out a lunch bag, making me realize the time, and gave me half his sandwich. Without even feeling guilty, I took it from him and began eating. I wasn't one to squander food.

He glanced to the paper between us.

"Jesus Christ, did you draw that?!"

It was always the same when people first saw my art. Shock and disbelief. They'd watch me unsure afterwards- wondering how it was possible I could draw the way I do. But in my art class, those bland blank images would soon quell their interest.  My boring drawings would dull any talks.

But what Tim was seeing was my demon's art.

"Alys, did you draw this?" He demanded again, staring awestruck.

I shrugged lightly, "It was just a sudden inspiration."

He looked up at me instantly, opened his mouth to press, but then closed it.

"Do you take mythology?" he asked instead. I nibbled on my sandwich, wondering if because he knew me better than most people- he knew I would hate being pressed about the level of my work. I was suddenly grateful for that.

"No, not this year." I replied quietly, "in middle school we went to a few art museums and I guess you could say I've been in love with mythology since then. I've taken every class offered about literature and mythology I've could, but not this year."

He tilted his head to those

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