Distorted lightbeam

Get to know: Sergio Reyes

PERSONALITY TRAITS

(+) effervescent, maverick, jovial

(-) airy, loquacious, boisterous 

Favorite song | Poem | Bio

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“And wouldn’t that put you in a pickle? If I were?” she asked, unable to help the little smile that curled, bemusedly, at the corners of her lips. Inevitably, Mina considered keeping him in suspense, before deciding better of it. “I had thought that maybe that was the intention — it’s lifelessness — but perhaps that’s giving them too much credit?” 

In response to her own question, she shrugged, giving him another sideways glance. “You look like you know more about art than me.” If it felt like a backhanded compliment — coming from a woman who looked about as corporate as could be, to a man who, well… didn’t — it wasn’t meant that way, but needless to say Mina now felt like it was she who had risked putting her foot in her mouth. “No offence.”

-

Sergio’s heart couldn’t have sunk farther. The suggestion alone was enough to make him feel horrible for this. He’d heard the same critique from online gents that had no mercy when it came to hiding behind a profile picture. Relief washed over him soon enough, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Me lleva, you had me for a second there.” His hand gently massaged the tension remaining on his shoulder. 

“Is it the general lack of fashion sense?” A joke at his expense, though, to be fair, she wasn’t wrong. Art was the driving passion for his life, the one thing he most enjoyed, but today... Not particularly. “There’s nothing particularly indicating to that, but it might have been a choice too. I assume this either was their favorite to paint... but it could also be the opposite.”  A non-committal shrug was given. “Are you looking for a specific type of art or...?” 

Risa shrugged and slumped down onto the floor next to her companion, resting her feet against the opposite wall. “You’re not wrong. On the bright side, this elevator has better ambience than the last one I was stuck in. Which is important, for a mausoleum,” she said, dryly. Her tendency towards gallows humor wasn’t always well received, but it didn’t seem like the man would mind. “Slower but less painful…I’ll take it.”

-

“This is a nice ambience?” Sergio gestured around them, the dull gray surrounding them could, in the unfortunate circumstances, feel suffocating. Thankfully, it was just the two of them. “I worry for how the amount of times you’ve been trapped in an elevator. I’m usually a stairs guy, myself, but not in a hurry... Damn good that did for me.” He smiled, though the expression was hardly out of happiness. “Are you here for business? I mean-- not in the elevator business, but..” Sergio trailed off, a chuckle escaping him. “You know what I mean.” 

⇋ 

The morning sun seemed to be growing stronger with each passing second, and Ethan had to bring a hand to his brow just to be sure it was in fact Sergio he had run into on his walk of shame. Though if he were being honest, Ethan had never really had been ashamed of his escapades per se. If anything he typically wore them like a badge of honor, but there was something about bumping into Sergio that morning that had him wishing he had slept in or maybe at least said goodbye to the blonde. None the less, Ethan shrugged at the man’s question, playing the whole thing off as if this was just another day in the life for a superstar athlete. “Little of both I guess. You know, same shit different day. How about you? You’re up early.” 

-

“Ah, Ethan.” Perhaps his coffee hadn’t hit yet, or was it the endless sleepless nights that were accumulating against him? (Both?) But he hadn’t recognized Ethan. Still, he smiled, offering up his cup of coffee as an explanation. “Bold of you to assume I’ve slept,” He laughed, allowing his pace to match the younger man’s. “Should I take a wild guess as to what you’re doing up so early, or would you like to talk about it?” 

status: closed - @sergioreyes​  location: espacio gallery, whitechapel. 

She looked once from painting to phone, attempting to visualise the piece in the photograph of her lounge that lit up the screen. Officially, she was on-the-clock, and so she looked over her shoulder, checking to see that she wasn’t needed for now as her employer schmoozed his way into the curatorial staff’s good graces. The gallery was one of the many places he publicly bequeathed large enough donations to make it appear as though he cared for the arts, and cared about the exposure of up-and-coming contemporary artists, however much Mina knew better.

Glancing down at the rather hefty price-tag, even for her, Mina pursed her lips. No. For that? It would have to be perfect. With a quiet tch that sounded far more critical than intended, she murmured, “Too warm,” before moving on, heels clicking on the polished concrete as she joined a fellow patron at the next piece.

Standing back with her head tilted to the left, she sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek. “What do you think to it?” Her voice was quiet as the addressed the stranger, offering him only the quickest of glances.

-

Despite his artistic abilities, Sergio never thought he’d find himself in a place like this. The gallery worked with renowned painters, photographers, and the like, but him? Perhaps in another life. His quiet footsteps led him from one dull painting to the next, the same person painted again and again in different scenarios. He didn’t particularly hate it, but nothing about it inspired him. 

Head tilted, Sergio tried to figure out the place depicted in one of the portraits when a voice broke through his thoughts. His gaze studied him momentarily, before he shook his head, and gave a quick shrug. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen, but it’s a bit... lifeless.” God, the last thing he wanted was to trash someone else’s art in their own show. -- What if she was the artist? “You’re not the-- are you?”