Tortured Artist

Nathan gripped tightly to his steering wheel as the road started to branch out into a familiar path, his teeth grinding with the added anxiety that has always been present in him. This time would be different, Kate wouldn’t end up like–

Shut up. He didn’t want to think about that. Jefferson seemed to know what he was doing, and he figured he would have to trust him. This was another opportunity, as much as Nathan didn’t care for Kate.

Maybe that was what would make things different this time.

The drive to the barn passed by quickly in a blur of anxious thoughts, Kate passed out for the most part, and it wasn’t long until Nathan found himself parked in the barn and closing the doors behind him. Kate soon proved to be a dead weight, seeing as he practically had to catch her when he opened the back door of his truck. Nathan quickly hooked an arm under her legs, hoisting her up in his arms as he shut the door with his back.

She was as light as she looked as he carried her towards the back of the barn with hurried steps.

Everything was in place. 

The cameras were right where they should be. The backdrop was plastered to the back wall. The studio lights shined brilliantly, like staring at the surface of the sun, and filled the dark room with a continuous white noise, humming and vibrating. Mark set a tray of clean needles and vials onto a medical cart. Above ground, the sound of Nathan’s truck pulling in and the reassuring thud of the car door.

📷 - “I feel stupid now for doing it. At the time I thought it was a good revenge to do but I was mistaken.” Max sighed and rubbed the back of her neck again now, a sort of idle thing she did as well as out of habit at times. “Maybe if your still around school after I’ll come back and explain it.” When she noticed the students pour in it made her nervous, especially on being late to the next class.

“It’s fine, he’s a jerk I’m afraid.” Looking back she sighed and shrugged. “If it happens again I’ll tell him or ask you to but for now it’s nothing that’ll get physical or.. hopefully not again.” Frowning she rubbed her wrist but tried to keep her smile at times. Her throat felt dry by now and so did her lips, she’d have to apply lip balm but for now she sort of unconsciously licked her lips.

“I really have to go now to my next class. Thanks for the talk.” Giving a nod she excused herself and rushed out of the class to her next one which appeared on her schedule to be Science. Hopefully the whole situation would leave her brain by the time she’d get back to her dorm room.

“Regret isn’t going to change anything... Just make sure you watch yourself.”

More students started to fly down the hallways and into their classrooms, and Mr. Jefferson could sense Max’s urgency by her darting glances and the tension in her narrow shoulders. The bell was going to ring soon. She thanked him and he took a quick look at the filling seats.

“No problem, Max. But don’t make me the reason why you’re late for your next class,” he advised, giving her a small, reassuring smile. It did not show in his eyes. “See you around.”

📷 - “I’ll do my best.” Nodding again after letting him take the phone she just stared down at the device to not make things awkward if she were staring at his facial expression change if at all. So desperately she wished that it wasn’t anonymous and that their name was there as well as a picture. Who knows if he’d believe that she didn’t set it up, which she didn’t.

“A bunch of kids try to be hot stuff and tough and mighty, figures he wasn’t really if the texts are secretly from him.” When he told her he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it without a name she figured as much, she also took back the offered phone and switched it to idle, sticking it in the pocket of her messenger bag again. “I mean I might’ve a little. I was being pushed so much at one point that I spread a rumor about Victoria and Nathan.” She sighed. “I guess I deserve it.”

Looking to her arm with the bruises which he probably meant by his question if she were okay she nodded a little and did her best to slip it under the sleeve of her jacket again, a bit ashamed of such a injury in a way. “It’s just a little sore, I’ll be alright.” Looking back with confident eyes she could breathe. “Thank you for taking time to speak with me. I think I better head to my last class before the bell rings.”

She started a rumor to get back at them. Mr. Jefferson’s face told her nothing. That said enough. 

“If that’s true, then I can’t say it’s a shock. You can’t make enemies and expect to get away with it. Try not to give him a reason next time,” he said, glancing down at the ugly smear of purple and blues on her wrist. It used to be white as alabaster. What did she say? “And, not to put you down, but can you tell me about this rumor?”

📷 - “Pssh, don’t think I know that by now? I’d turn it in even if you let me off the hook.” Chuckling she twirled a finger in her lock of short brown hair after unfolding her arms from her chest idly. Of course she wasn’t trying to look like some innocent naive girl who didn’t know any better.

“Just what this school needs if it hasn’t already.” Rolling her blue orbs she huffed in an almost dramatic manner when he told that to her. Didn’t everyone nearly know that already that wasn’t a part of the Vortex Club? When he seemed to ask if she wanted to show her the texts she nodded and took out her phone from the pocket of her messenger bag and switched it on, going through until she got to one thread of texts that seemed to poke fun at her and seem to start a problem.

“You heard that? Well– it wasn’t a horrible incident per say.” Chewing on her lower lip she knew it was worse than she just said. They had gotten into a heated argument after she was accused of doing something to one of the groupies of the Vortex and he ended up pushing her into a locker and hurting her. “He just was a bit rough, no sprains or any bones broken.”

Max sacrificed her phone to Mr. Jefferson, and while doing that, the sleeve of her gray jacket slipped a bit, showing a nasty purple and blue bruise on her wrist, although it did not appear to be broken or sprained. “I believe the one there is from one of the members, although the name doesn’t say a student but just says, ‘Vortex Club Member’ or something.”

“I thought so,” he pointed out, impressed. “You’re on a roll today, Max. Keep it up.”

She twirled her hair around her finger and her laugh was so, so soft. He’d never seen her do any of that before. But he’d remember it. Her smile faded away just as quickly as it came and she rummaged through her camera bag, giving him her phone. He tried ignoring the way she bit her lip and read through the messages.

📷 - “Oh, come on you're not that old, or at least you don’t look it.” She nearly felt her heart drop into her stomach because that might of came out strange, at least in her perspective. “As for the photo’s, I’ll try and bring a few in the next time I have this class.” It seemed like some wise words that she needed on the last part, high school was that there were hard times, everyone was still young. “That is true. At least it’s only high school and not college.”

It felt good that he was willing to talk to her, especially since he only had to be here for the school day and then go home, he didn’t even have to exactly help students after class unless it was an assignment. “Well, some of them seem to be anonymous, and other ones are probably from those stupid members of the Vortex Club.”

Being picked on was not one of the things she enjoyed at all during her time at Blackwell. Sometimes she felt so lost and angry inside that she had to go to her dorm a lot because of it. To at least be able to speak to a person of higher power here, “If it escalates, I’ll take action. I just had to get it off my chest.”

She didn’t mean to say that; the words came out like an accidental confession and her reaction proved it. Mark chuckled again, short and airy. “Good try, but you still have to turn in that paper.”

It wasn’t often he had one-on-one time with her even if he tried. He always knew she wanted to see him, that she looked up to him, but she was too shy and unsure of herself. Every time he met her timid eyes or said her name, it was like she wanted to evaporate into thin air. Now, finally, she was putting her trust in him. He was careful not to lose it.

📷 - So badly did she want to stick her tongue out at that blonde woman when she was strutting out like a peacock. Max was more mature than that, though, and Victoria or anyone else might pick up on them trying to have a competition. What made things worse was the woman calling her a teacher’s pet.

“That makes sense, thanks.” Giving a nod and a small smile, though in a bit of a shy way. She had always loved praise and compliments from teachers whenever she did good in class, or even on assignments that had to be turned in. Considering the ones in this room had their minds on other things, women, or even men, it was a good thing that she stepped up to do the work.

“People always make fun of me for liking old things or just being a geek sometimes.” She shrugged, feeling awkward about talking with a teacher about it. “I try and ignore it but because of some people who manage to get my cell number from another, they text me with texts messages to make fun of me or something.”

Right now she might’ve been acting like a child who’s tatletaling on a sibling or friend who did something bad. “–Sorry, I shouldn’t have gone off about things going on in my personal life.” This was the worst time, of course, because her cheeks flared pink in embarrassment, freckles standing out a bit and she eyed the door every now and then. “I should’ve gone to the principal if it got bad.”

People were making fun of her for liking old things and ‘being a geek.’ He held back a short laugh.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. This might not mean much coming from the old guy, but the past can be a good thing... I’d like to see some of your digital work, though.” It didn’t sound as serious as it should have and maybe Mr. Jefferson didn’t see the problem. So she liked analogue cameras and probably drowned herself in cult classics. He hardly considered that a problem. “You can’t go through life without being judged, and this is high school. Don’t let it get to you.”

Almost immediately, it was as though she regretted everything. Her face glowed and her freckles popped out, drowning in the bright pink color. 

📷 - The brunette could only smile a little at him seeming to praise or compliment her, she did indeed read through photography books a lot on her spare time, especially when it intertwined with history. Rising from her chair she grabbed her messenger bag and put her things in it while he was speaking about turning in their papers by tonight. Thank God you could turn it in via computer if you couldn’t get back to him in person. It surprised her, though, when he called her out to come to his desk. “Okay.” Was all she could muster up to say in a hushed tone.

After approaching when he was walking back she folded her arms across her chest, but didn’t have an irritated look. The worst part was that when the others were probably leaving for their next class or to their dorms, she just knew Victoria was making a face at her or sticking her tongue out for having a one-on-one talk with the teacher.

“I’ve just been stressed is all, sir, a good amount of classes can do it to you.” That wasn’t the total truth, though, she had to admit to herself, and he might have been able to see right through her partial lie, and it killed her if he did. “Besides that, kind of hard to focus on one thing when you’re sort of the center of bullying by others at times.”

Victoria strutted down the classroom, stopping midway at waving him a ‘goodbye’ with a flutter of her fingers when Max walked up to him. He saw her face twist with slight disgust before she tore through the doorway. He brushed it off.

“Considering you’re the only one who bothers doing the assignments, I think you’re doing good work here. I know you’ve got this,” he reassured her. He did not offer any smile and his gaze, murky and fixed, fell on her. She looked like she was hiding something she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know. Eventually, she confessed.

It wasn’t what he expected.

“Bullying?” he repeated. “What's this about?”

📷 -  Max was drifting between daydream and reality, listening in at times on the teacher speaking about photography, specifically about heliography. While she did know her photography like the nerd she was, she hated being picked on and bullied for it. Everyone had something special they could do or wanted to, so why was she bullied by students?

Jumping at the calling of her name, the brunette looked at Mr.Jefferson and had listened to his question, having to think about it for a few moments and rubbing the back of her neck nervously from being called out. “W-well er.” The female began in a sort of stutter. “Was it  Niépce?”

Her hair bobbed when she jumped and she rubbed her neck, shocked by being tossed in the limelight. After a minute, she finally gave an answer. The bell rang.

“On point, Max. Good to know someone is keeping up with the reading,” he said, smiling. Mark raised his voice while the rest of the class rushed for the door. “Guys, listen up. Remember to turn in your papers by tonight. I won’t be taking in late submissions and I don’t want to hear any excuses. This is a good part of your grade, so don’t sit on it. And, Max, stop by my desk.”

“...and that leads us to the birth of heliography--an early photoengraving process that produced images through the use of metal plates and sunlight. Which might be why it’s also known as ‘sun drawing.’ ...Paying attention? Because that sounds like something that might be on your next exam.”

The class blinked blankly into space and Mark took his place in the center of the room, sitting over a desk. She looked distant there zoning out.

She’s crying. It sounds clogged in her throat and sticky, and he hears her pointed ankles scrape over the backdrop. She is too weak to stand.

“Don’t take this personally. And so we’re clear? …I don’t hate you.” He stabs the syringe into the vial, watching it crawl past the one milliliter tick, then two, three. He pulls it out. “Life happens. Sometimes all you can do is accept that and deal with it.”

His footfalls echo throughout the studio. His reflection glosses over her wet, clouded baby-blue eyes and she looks remarkably frail like a bag of fallen leaves. He kneels down beside her. She flinches seconds too late.

“Take it easy, Max,” he soothes her. “This will be over before you know it.”

She’s gone.

The DVD player’s blue lights glow from the corner. Two in the morning. It is so quiet he can hear the mechanical workings of his heart, the pump of blood leaving his chest to his arms and legs, but maybe it’s just the ventilation system. The powdered gloves stick to his fingers. He breathes in fumes from a chemical bath. And on the backdrop, wilted and dead, is Rachel Amber.

      “She owes me money. Do you know where I can find her? It’s about two grand, so I wanna know whether she’s finally skipped town. She been around?” 

Here he is, still keeping her secrets. Besides, he can’t really say we were together, can he? Who the fuck would believe him? Besides, even if she has just fucked off to start a new life, he’s pretty sure that he’d just get fingers pointed at himself for some bullshit reason. Rachel’s a chameleon. She’s not going to be found if she doesn’t want to be. 

Rachel owes money. Mark knows this isn’t true, but it doesn’t matter. Rachel with her careless laugh and spirited smile... now buried away and gone forever. His voice drops.

“Rachel... has been gone for some time. And we’d all like to find her.” He folds his arms, sad, then scoffs, but his eyes are still dead. “You want to know where she is? So you can collect your money? Well, next time I hear anything, I’ll let you know. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your business.”