색상은 말한다

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on wednesdays we wear black (on sundays we break rules)

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Whenever Avery engaged in conversation with a stranger, her hand instinctively coiled around Don’s leash, and her dog returned the gesture by leaning his body into her leg. The museum, though, Don recognized as one of the few places Avery was minimally tense, and wasn’t expecting this slight change in her body language. Aggitated out of his comfortable spot on the floor beside her right leg, he stood and approached the stranger with a tentative gaze and sniff. Avery’s eyes followed Don across the floor, having yet to take a look at the person standing next to her in the gallery. She had simply replied with the thoughts that had been on the tip of her tongue already, begging to be prompted. But the sudden lapse of speech from the girl who had seemed so outgoing a moment before was enough to pull Avery’s attention to her left, where the blonde in a brilliantly pink suit stood and his appearance alone brought a meek smile to her lips. 

If anyone was to be talking about balance and contrast, it was him. Initially, she was perfectly vibrant and animated in the way she spoke, but in the time it took Avery to turn her eyes towards her, she was perfectly timid. “Right. Color and deep ideas,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows as he fumbled with his words. She turned back to the painting, cocking her head at it as he continued speaking in broken fragments. At the mention of coffee, her brow raised even further. She had become so focused and stuck in her museum mindset that she wondered for a second if he was still referring to the painting they were still hovering in front of, and was about to ask what about it? when he finished his thought with the oddly phrased question. She nodded and chuckled a short, “I do.” Avery responded to the evident nerves this stranger was inexplicably feeling, relaxing her features into a polite smile so as not to make him feel any worse than he already did. “Sure,” she said with a brighter smile now, turning towards him, pulling Don closer, and clasping her hands at her stomach in one fluid movement. “I definitely wouldn’t mind a coffee.” 

Robbi had a little issue with tunnel vision, pretty people often made her forget that there was a whole world that still continued to exist around them. He really just liked getting caught up in things and in people and loved when it happened organically. Of all the places this angel could have appeared, she just happened to come and stand right next to Robbi, or Robbi had found her; he couldn’t quite remember. Either way, it happened and that was all that mattered. However the blonde was taken from her revery by a dog that had appeared by the girl’s side. Robbi was sure it hadn’t been there before, but he stopped himself from saying as much. Instead she hunched down and gave the dog a bright smile before patting his head and rubbing behind his ear. “Hi there, bud. I didn’t even see you there.. What’s your name? I’m Robbi.” Robbi remained down on her haunches while she gave the dog an apt amount of time to respond before realizing that she was in fact talking to a dog. He laughed and shook his head before looking back up at the owner, attempting no to get completely lost again. “Not much of a talker, is he?” It didn’t even occur to Robbi to ask why there was a dog in the museum, but his brain brushed it off as something to be asked about later.

The blonde stood back up to her full height, smile still on his lips despite his disastrous attempt to talk to the woman in front of him. “Sure?” Sure was a beautifully underrated word in Robbi’s opinion. It could say so much while only using one syllable. Of course yes did the same thing but yes was generic and sure was far more easy going; sure was the cooler and more aloof yes. And in that moment Robbi knew he was overthinking things so he put his focus back on being present. “Great! Just great.. Uh.. Perfect, yeah.. They have a coffee shop here. It’s nothing special but it’s kinda artsy, fits the theme, you know? And then there’s one just down the block-- Little nicer, more opinions. Completely up to yourself.” There was a part of Robbi that wanted to go on and recite all the coffee shops he’d ever been to but he really didn’t want to dash his luck by overstepping. 

     Letting out a sort of half-amused breath, she turned away from the artwork and towards her recently acquired friend; “Careful, if the guard sees you with your phone out, we might both get a record for being thrown out of art galleries. Luckily I’ve still got a few on you.” She flipped through the remaining pages of the brochure, each one boasting some new expensive painting that the gallery could show off, as her smile quickly faded. Lack of artistic skills aside, Eden couldn’t help but feel irritated. This wasn’t like one of those Modern Art galleries, where artists gladly sold the rights to show off their newest splash of paint on a canvas or avant-garde sculpture made out of wire and foam for a small glimpse at fame and fortune. Even if most of these were just reprints, the ire was still there, as she thought about the original copies which had a home that was, almost without a doubt, not where they were currently stationed. She’d never given the subject much thought before her mother’s (and now her own) lawsuit, but now that the thought was there, it gnawed at the back of her mind every time she saw one of these galleries. 

     “I don’t think you’ve disliked a single piece, Robbi” she gestured to the dozens of other paintings and sculptures that they’d passed over the hour for emphasis, “how do you even decide which ones to buy at that rate? Is there an actual system, or are you just messing with me?” Eden fully believed that it could’ve been the latter; Robbi certainly seemed frivolous enough. Despite how well the two of them got along, there was no denying that there was a marked difference in their philosophies in life, especially in regards to money. 

“Don’t worry, I had a word with the security guard I saw at the door. He follows my Instagram.” He was a sure looking kid, far too young for the position he was holding, but Robbi didn’t tend to linger on momentary judgments she made. The blonde felt the need to take care of any possibility of an unsavory situation happening when it came to hanging around museums with Eden. It certainly wasn’t because he believed that she was a loose canon of sots, but more so because she knew the art world liked to make one time decisions when it came to polarizing people. 

“... Well I--” Robbi said before allowing the woman to continue talking, quieting herself. “You see it’s just--” The blonde said before offering a little huff as Eden kept questioning her art-appreciation system. He waited after the older woman seemed to be finished, just to make sure that he didn’t interrupt her again. “There’s something to like about everything, Eden. Art for me.. Well art for me is like people. There’s something to like about everyone but some people are special. They make you feel things, you know? And the art I buy makes me feel something. I can like all the stuff in this place, but that doesn't mean that it makes me feel anything. Like this piece here.. It’s lovely and the depth is appreciated but it doesn’t make me want to pull it off the wall and carry it back to my apartment.. Does that make sense?” Robbi said as he let out  a heavy breath, noting again that she’d forgotten to breathe while rambling away. “When you think about it.. What makes anyone do anything: it’s either something to do with responsibility or obligation ooor being made to feel some type of way.” The blonde was by no means a philosopher but she did enjoy their conversations. Eden helped him understand more about himself, the everyday things that he was blind to. She enjoyed explaining out his thoughts because it always made things in his head more clear and less frazzled. 

  As much as Marie would profess they had an inherent eye for details, indicators of person’s being flew under their perceptions. They didn’t notice the quality of the bag—the brand was out of view and through their polarized lenses they couldn’t recognize the telltale signs of money imbedded in the style of fabric.

  Still perturbed by the dark interiors of the elevator shaft, Marie was compliant to let the kid next to them try what he could in his power to find a way to escape the elevator. Cellular service was limited, and by the time Marie caught a weak signal, it seemed the kid had already texted his entire contact list. Marie paused, looking at the kid passively while she texted. What phone was that? It looked seamless—a model Marie had never even seen before. Looking back at their own old, dilapidated iPhone, Marie accepted that, of course, the younger more technologically literate individual would have better cellular service. But it distressed them how little coverage they got for how much they paid—an unsettling feeling of being swindled by their phone company clouded Marie’s mind. They were preoccupied when the kid remarked that they were going to be saved.

  “That quickly?” they responded in surprise. “Who did you—do you, know the front desk’s number?”

  They glanced forward momentarily in a flash of contemplation—astonishment that the kid was able to get ahold of the front desk that fast.

  “What cellphone carrier do you have?” they asked in intrigue, surmising that to be the reason for the disparity in the quickness they were able to alert the outside to their predicament.

Robbi’s fingers were so used to texting that her eyes didn’t even have to focus on the screen. Mid text she couldn’t help but glance at Marie and the phone they were holding. He was sure it was some sort of ironic antique, they couldn’t seriously consider it a viable mobile phone. The pace at which Apple and Samsung moved when it came to their technology was far too fast for most but Robbi was obsessed with keeping up. His parents were some of the highest ranked people in the mobile phone industry, period. And with that Robbi always had an in to test out prototypes and any new designs they had to offer. The blonde had a habit of really pushing any poor phone’s limitations so if they could pass her tests they’d do for public consumption.

“Oh no.. I mean that’d be pretty miraculous if I had that but no.. I mean I’m sure I’d have it floating around somewhere but-- I just texted the girl I know in the building.” The young blonde said, half wanting to fill all silence with conversation, but noting and accepting the quick and clear questioning style that Marie seemed to prefer. 

“Carrier? Just AT&T.. It’s the model that makes the difference. The model has the most powerful receptor you can get on the market. You can’t actually get it yet, but it’ll be marketable soon. Deadzones aren’t so dead for me. I could climb Everest with this thing and still call my mom back in Korea, you know? Well-- I haven’t tried that.. But you know, Maybe it’s possible.” The blonde found herself rambling again, wanting to make a good impression even considering the circumstances. “Is that.. Is that a iPhone 4? It’s just been so long since I’ve seen one of those.” Robbi moved in a little closer to inspect to the ancient artifact before glancing up and smiling at them. “You’re gonna want to upgrade.. I’m by no means telling you what to do, it’s just a suggestion.”

The silence between them had been accumulated so steadily over the past five minutes to the point where Eden couldn’t help but feel startled, in a sense, when Robbi finally spoke up. It was very much like being awoken from a kind of trance, and she felt the need to adjust her posture and refocus her attention on the piece that had him so enthralled. Still, as nice as the painting was, it was clear that her enthusiasm would never be quite as palpable as his. 

She could admire the brush work, and she would always respect the amount of talent that had to have gone into it, but as she continued to theorize about the emotion that hid behind the oil and canvas, Eden strained to see the ‘forlorn looks’ that the characters were apparently sharing. Perhaps she simply lacked the artistic eye that was so prevalent in the museum-faring crowd.Discerning symbolism within a work of art had never truly been her forte. In fact, Eden hadn’t even been that interested in art until the past year or so–something that Robbi had taken upon herself to rectify through various trips to museums and art exhibits. She was mostly surprised that these other places didn’t have some kind of alarm system to prevent her from entering, based on her less-than-stellar record at the Argent. 

“What do I think?” She looked down at the brochure in her hands as she repeated Robbi’s question. “It’s…it’s too yellow, isn’t it? In here it looks a lot more subdued” she pointed to the replicated image on the paper as emphasis, holding it up next to the painting on the wall for her. “Like, I’m not the only one who sees this, right?” 

Robbi was drawn to people very easily and if they had any type of story to them, he found it very hard not to get involved. In truth the blonde played very important roles in many people’s lives. Some more in passing than others but significant nonetheless. It was never completely selfless though. At first she’d get taken by passion swelling out of injustice, wrong doing or perhaps just bad circumstance; depending on the person’s predicament. Then she’d grow to know them if given any sort of opportunity and then his own loneliness would take over. It would lay in hopes that the person would be grateful and stay around, that or that they would even become some part of Robbi’s life in turn. He never wanted the money he gave out back, nor did he want any material item they would or could give him; not that he didn’t appreciate the gesture nonetheless. All Robbi wanted was people. She didn’t want her apartment to echo any longer, she wanted it to be full of life and laughter; even gossip, he didn’t mind, he just wanted the company. Robbi never thought about it for too long though, it didn’t do well to dwell. Instead he’d always find himself knocking on poor Josephine’s door, arms full with everything she’d noticed the girl was missing upon his last visit. 

Eden’s situation had prompted Robbi to act in the only way he saw fit. The blonde wholeheartedly believed that she was being utterly mistreated and that just didn’t sit right with him. She wanted to help in whatever way he could, whether it be financially or emotionally. Robbi had a fair few connections that he knew could probably help in the long run, but she definitely didn’t want to overstep in such a delicate case. She glanced over at the brochure and then looked back at the painting and then to Eden, whose features were not unlike some of the classic beauties Robbi had seen while traipsing around many of the art museums in New York. “But I think that’s a very defining thing when it comes to art.. How is that little teeny replication supposed to capture that..” The blonde said with a wide gesture towards the framed canvas in front of them. “You’re most definitely not the only one to see it.. But I usually don’t pick up those things anyway.. That’s why I have this.” Robbi said as he held up his phone. Having her phone out almost constantly was never well received but around art her phone came second. It was only a means to get the most information possible about whatever she was looking at. “I like it.. I like it a lot. Not for my apartment or anything, but it’s got a place. I just really like that idea of never really knowing what’s going on in a room full of people.”

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secret project

He was firmly of the opinion that anybody could create art, but he could see that plenty of people had no natural talent. Maybe it would take too long to get good if you had no talent. “Well, at least you’ve tried,” Peter said with a nod, sipping his coffee. “Most people go, ‘oh, I’m shit’, even though they never tried, y’know? That pisses me off.” The way she spoke about art made him a little bit bashful, but he rather liked it. “I prefer surrealism. Hyper-realism freaks me out a bit.” He could never tell how people could do such realistic paintings.

“Yes, exactly! I feel that way about most things to be honest.. If you’re interested in something the least you can do is try it.” Robbi had tried and tested many different things and some stayed with her and some didn’t. He wasn’t a competitive person, so he didn’t have to be the best at everything; she was always just happy to take part. “I understand.. A lot of people don’t like being bad at things-- Well no, I think they just don’t like not being the best at things, if that makes sense?  So instead of trying and possibly failing, they’d rather not try; which is pretty sad.” He didn’t like thinking about all the people who refused to try, because that often made him wonder about how many people failed to reach their full potential that way. “Hyper-realism is just.. Some of the pieces I’ve seen.. Well, it’s just amazing. Do you have any favorite pieces? Just in general? I’d like to hear about an artist’s favorite pieces.”

For Avery, time in museums typically meant quiet time. She found herself becoming completely engrossed in the works that hung from the wall, tuning out all surrounding sound save for her own thoughts and analysis of whatever she was staring at. It surprised her, then, to hear the person beside her talking to her, causing her to shift in her shoes. She crossed her arms, nodding slowly at the words that were flooding out of the stranger’s mouth at an alarmingly fast pace. “Oh, um– yeah. Renoir is incredible,” she answered simply before pausing, her eyes remaining glued on the painting. “On balance, I totally agree. It looks like there’s a lot more going on than the style and color palette lets on. And there’s sort of a disconnect because of that, y’know? Like they’re all physically together, but seem to be absorbed in their own personal situations. So in a way they’re not really together. I like that kind of contrast, between the simplicity of the style and color, and the deeper ideas in the piece.” 

Robbi was a talker and he had an awful habit when talking to other people. Her mind moved so fast that she often formulated his responses while the person was still talking to her. He got lost in possible points he could make and focused too much on making decent points that it often came across as him just simply not listening. However, this time Robbi’s mind had gone silent for a different reason and his focus was very much elsewhere. She hadn’t been paying attention when he first spoke, her words were very much for whoever was closest but as it turned out his words were definitely well timed. Robbi was a person very easily taken by beauty, and her poor mind got very pulled in by the woman speaking. He had no idea what she was saying, but he was quite sure she was making incredibly valid and insightful points. The blonde had a very dopey looking grin on her lips while the woman spoke, the stranger still unawares and focused on the painting in front of them. He rocked a little on the balls of his feet to contain his energy that had a tendency to reach surging points; and in the company of beautiful young woman it skyrocketed. It took him a couple of beats to realise that in fact the woman had finished talking and that a response was probably expected. 

“Uh--” She said with flushed cheeks, tearing his gaze away quickly to stare intensely at the piece. “Colour and deep ideas.. That’s what I’m about.” Robbi said with a bob of his head, unsure if her response even made coherent sense. She looked down at herself, decked out in one of her much loved suits. It was tailored by an up and coming designer she’d found on Instagram, a well fitting ensemble in a black and pink checkered design with a black shirt that seemed to glow against its matching vibrant pink tie. The pattern distracted him for a moment, stopping her eyes from drifting to the angel next to him. “.. Coffee.” Though his eyes were under control, her words were not. The blonde’s brows furrowed deeply, wondering why she’d let the word slip when it made no sense on its own. Just coffee? No inflection of a question or any pretense of offering coffee; just coffee. “Do you drink it?” And with that Robbi took a bad situation and managed to make it worse. Oftentimes his words annoyed him because of how she’d stumble over them and how her mouth could never move to allow them to escape fast enough. This time however they just simply weren’t cooperating. “Would... Would you like to get some coffee? I mean-- I’ll probably go with decaf.. But you could get whatever..” Robbi said with a little chuckle, focusing her eyes on the ground as he waited for the swift rejection.

Josephine’s shoulders relaxed when she realized it was only Robbi. Though the presence of the larger-than-life millionaire (billionaire?) had been somewhat jarring at first, his presence had soon fell into place in Josephine’s life. It was easy to get swept up in his enthusiasm and eccentricity, and even if she still remained more of an audience member than center stage. No, the stage belonged to Robbi. 

You didn’t have to was on the tip of her tongue, but Josephine bit it back, knowing her friend would wave her protests off and insist that it wasn’t a problem, that yes, she had to. Josephine wasn’t sure why Robbi cared so much, but it’d become something comforting after having no one to rely on for most of her life. Besides, living by yourself was a scary, scary thing, and having someone who made a small apartment that much brighter was welcome. “A very good thing. Thanks,” she said instead, giving Robbi a grateful smile as she took the cup into her hands. She scoffed jokingly, rolling her eyes. “Reading’s not boring. Not to me, anyway. It’s just this book! I’m pretty sure I’ve stared at the same page for the past fifteen minutes.”

To Robbi, Josephine was a most peculiar young woman in the best of ways. Her place in New York was unlike most others her age, though Robbi did sometimes forget her age. Most young people in New York wanted everything it stereotypically represented. They wanted fame to fall into their lap by chance, they wanted 5th Avenue to be their playground and then wanted to end each night in a penthouse apartment. Josephine however lived a pretty humble life in Robbi’s opinion. Here the girl was reading when she could be out getting lost in New York, it was a city of unfathomable fortune. But not everyone liked just falling in and out of things like Robbi seemed to. He loved trying new things just for the sake of experience and rarely found time for quiet moments. Most were actually had in Josephine’s apparent in the moments before sleep. She’d lay on the couch and just attempt to be in the moment rather than let her busy mind plan out what the morning and the next day would bring. The young girl’s apartment was a very calming space for Robbi and she felt almost selfish that she saw it in that light, wondering if Josephine noticed at all. 

He looked down at the book and recognised the name. Perhaps she’d read it while at school? Her days at school were a bit of a blur, between making memories and not letting them be soured by the reason she’d found herself in Australia of all places. “Well there’s something telling me that staring at that book isn’t all that entertaining. I know you love your reading.” Robbi was by no means dismissive of those who found the more subdued hobbies enjoyable, he just didn’t want to leave little Josephine bored in such a city of great life. “How about we do something? Anything you want.” It was funny, because anything usually had limitations to others. He may as well have said everything, because Robbi was as willing and as eager as one could possibly be when allowing another person to pick the fate of their day. 

Peter was surprised at her answer - he was interested in art without being an artist? What a rare person. “Have you ever tried?” he asked, hoping that she wouldn’t find the question odd, or rude. Maybe he was really bad at art. “Lots of art interests me, to be honest,” he answered. “I like impressionism, and abstract art, and realism. Most art, to be perfectly honest. What about yourself?”

“Yes.” Robbi had had a lot of experience with art making, but not of it worked the way that she felt it would if she had been a born artist. “I’ve had many canvas’ in front of me.. I tried sculpture too. I just don’t have the vision for it, I don’t think. I look at things and see them as they are and what they could be, but my hands don’t know how to make it so. I suppose if I spent time with it I could develop some sort of proficiency, but I’d much rather leave art to those gifted.” His words came very quick as they always did when a topic came up that she had some sort of passion for. “I like hyper realism because I think it’s just phenomenal and then I like surrealism too.. It’s offers real creative freedom.”

Landon let out a laugh. Being stalked was not a good thing, he noted in his mind, thinking about all of the problems that could have happened this evening, that didn’t know. There was something about going out through a dating site that still freaked Landon out. Mostly because he knew people lied on them and once they found out what he did, he freaked a lot of people out. Dating was stupid anyway. He didn’t need to make commitments with people other than the few he already had. Robbi included, he supposed. “Oh, I think I should be done for the evening. Last time I attempted to drink a lot, I couldn’t handle it. It’s been a while,” he laughed again. “Formal events are no fun, but this doesn’t seem like fun either.”

Robbi had tinder on her phone, from one afternoon of silliness with a friend. They tried it out just see if the hype had any weight to it. He’d swiped right for everybody and got quite a few responses, though she knew she’d never be comfortable enough to actually do anything with the interest. Robbi was a people person, he liked meeting people and having a connection with them even considering her history with social media. He came to the conclusion pretty quickly that his soulmate probably wouldn’t be found on Tinder or any other dating site or app. “C’mon bud, you can take it slow. Couple of drinks and you’ll loosen up. The night gets better with the more you drink.” The blonde said with a bright smile on her lips. He was never one to encourage binge drinking by any means but he found that alcohol really did help certain people in social situation. “They’re a little too stuffy for me. This however, this is on my terms and your terms too. Events.. They’re run like military operations.”

Landon looked over to see Robbi, and smiled a bit. Although Landon didn’t really know her, he seemed to see Robbi all over the place. It was strange. Although Landon tried his best to be nice. Robbi was a nice enough person, but Landon didn’t like to make connections to people. He never did well with making connections with people. “Yeah,” he laughed, despite knowing that he really didn’t want to make any memories. “No… hell no.” He didn’t really do well with dating; that had also been part of his past. Landon had done enough dating in the past to know that he wasn’t ready to do any right now. “I’m all on my own, don’t worry. There’s not some creepy stalker girl around here from some online dating site. Although, I think I’m good on the drinks,” he said, holding the rest of his beer up. “Once I’m finished though…” he trailed off with a laugh. “What brings you out tonight anyway?” Landon questioned, not being able to put FBI mode away.

“Well it’s good to know you’re not getting stalked tonight.” On the other hand Robbi’s eyes flicked to a group of girls that had been trying to get her attention for good ten minutes or so. It happened often enough on nights out because she was after all a very eligible individual. Perhaps the group just wanted a picture but Robbi was glad that Landon could serve as a distraction from the gathering in case they were more crazed ‘fans’. Robbi didn’t like to think of the people who kept up with her Instagram as fans because she wasn’t feeling like she was offering the same as an actor or a singer. To her they were just people who liked to follow her life through pictures and that was it. “Once you’re finished that one you’ll have another in your hand!” The blonde promised before taking a quick sip from her glass. “Me, I like to get out every now and again. Bit of a change from events and formal-y stuff, you know?”

One of the nameless coworkers - Suki lost interest in who walked past her prone form when she realised she wasn’t wanted by them - or, worse, needed. It would mean something terrible had happened in the warehouse when she hadn’t been looking, and that would wind up the strings of control she so desperately dangled over the rest of this realm. Back to the book then, fingers peeling the page back before she had even properly read the one upon which she had been resting her gaze, almost too eager for the continuation of this parallel universe. Just to see if it ended like hers. Just to see what end hers potentially could meet. Kinnakee, Kansas. Some no-name town in the middle of nowhere. Such demonic things couldn’t touch her here.

Besides, it was, over all things, just a book. Just like the pieces in her warehouse were just the replicas of the original. Things had very little value, just like human lives. All of them, fleeting. It was the continuation of things, something she slowly grew accustomed to. 

Flashes of the nonsense blood, when she bathed in the tub, she could swear it was thicker than usual, thicker water, coloured red, and she never could use those fucking bath bombs because of it, it looked too milky, too alien, and she wasn’t some kid of the cosmos to be covered in the ashes of the stars, for Christ’s sake. 

Then - a voice. Pulling her from the rapidly morbid reverie. She glanced up, her face blank, at first, with little more than disinterest. But this slowly curved into that expressionlessness of a surprise she hadn’t felt in, admittedly, quite a long time. A figure, approaching her somewhat hesitantly ( as all should ), addressing her appropriately by name, and even though she cringed at the plainness of her given birth name, she couldn’t dismiss the gesture. Nor could she just ignore what was being extended to her - a bouquet of flowers.

Just take the flowers, Suki. Her father had said this several times to her when she had crossed her arms and stared him down from across the table. Lots of love from me. Just take them. 

Swallowing, her movements slowed, and she remained frozen for a mere second longer before setting the books aside, standing from where she sat. Dahlias, delphiniums, the aroma of a blaze of honeysuckle only acquired in deep woods she’d never experienced - perhaps even a dyed rose or three. It was marvellous. Some would comment it was a work of art. And it was for her? Just for gratitude? ( just take the flowers suki ) 

“…” She couldn’t even be abrupt or irritated with the interruption. “Thank you.” She stepped to the individual, nameless but familiar ( as were all people, like artworks ) and narrowed her eyes. Where had she seen him before? – – Ah, yes. Making a name for herself online in photos and as a conduit for art love. “That’s - very kind of you, and unnecessary.” Unnecessary it might be, but her hands still extended to take the bouquet, handling them even more gently than when she had brushed her hands against the first painting to chill her long ago. “Have we met before?” Even if they had, it was in Suki’s nature to inquire.

Robbi stood with offering outstretched to the woman in front of her. She didn’t expect her to stand or even say all that much. He knew her as a woman of few words and stern features. To Robbi she’d always come across placid but troubled, the troubles coming from the stresses of running an auction house with the prestige that Isidore had. But the more she thought about the more she came to realise that she really didn’t know the woman past what others had said about her and her own assumptions. Robbi knew it was unfair to just go off hearsay and assumptions so if given the chance he would happily get to know the woman better. 

While she did love to keep herself busy, if the blonde wished he could have all the free time in the world. And that was probably the difference between her and most of the New York. It was a fast paced city and people were always on the move doing one thing or another. Robbi was always up to something in the least mischievous way possible, but the things that consumed her time were frivolous. He didn’t have a company to run or much to worry about in daily life; the biggest stressor in her life for the most part was filter or no filter on some of her Instagram posts. 

“Oh they’re very necessary, if not them then what they stand for.” Robbi said softly, not wanting to overstep in her disagreement. He couldn’t help but notice how she took the flowers and how she held them with a certain gentleness that Robbi couldn’t help but appreciate. Whenever Robbi went home to visit her parents she brought her mother something, she couldn’t just go home empty handed. Whether it be food, wine or even just flowers she tended to brush off the attempted affection. He supposed the world was funny like that, all she wanted was a relationship with her parents that didn’t feel as forced as it did; yet she had everything else to her disposal. The issue with that was if she complained it would seem as though she did not understand the privilege she had, yet not saying anything did make way for many restless nights. 

“I would say we have, but it was all very informal-- In passing really, I don’t even think I got a chance to introduce myself so I apologise for that.” The blonde said before offering his hand to the woman with a small bow of her head. Robbi was much more of a hugger but she knew when to tone herself down. He found himself in front of a very important woman and knew that a hand shake would suffice as a polite first greeting. “My name is Robbi Guo, avid art collector and all around enthusiast. It’s great to finally meet you properly, Miss Soo-Jin” His grin was unwavering and per usual, just happy to be around a woman who’d managed to maintain an establishment that had quickly become one of he bigger parts of his life. 

“..I think it’s the yellow.” It was only a whisper, but she leaned in a little to let the person who’d found themselves beside her know they were being talked to. “But then again it’s the story-- Stories. There’s so much to be said. Are they together? Do you think they’re together? Look at her face, I think it’s saying so much more than words could. And as for him, forget about it.. He’s definitely looking over at her. No, no.. Maybe he’s looking at him. That would make things more interesting; a little forlorn, don’t you think?” Her words were coming as fast as the thoughts entered her brain, his hands moving from figure to figure to offer a better idea of what she was talking about. “--And then those three, look at their dynamic.. And the woman in the back, for such a bright painting it’s giving me a darker vibe.. Then again maybe that’s the whole painting. Maybe the yellow is masking what’s really going on. The balance is just--” Robbi huffed out a sigh, trying to reel herself back in before looking to his company. “What do you think? Do you love it?”