Not Another Rockstar
Phoebe
“ Fletcher’s illustrative paintings, currently featured at the exclusive Hogan Gallery, depict deeply emotional stories in a manner that speaks not only to children but the neglected inner child in every adult. We’re expecting many great things from the social media-risen artist in the future.”
L ena, her agent, read the review from her phone because she was too nervous to read it herself. tried to contain her happy squeals—best to be professional, considering how many people were gathered in the gallery to view the exhibition.
“They love the collection?” she asked, peering over Lena’s shoulder. It was her first time being reviewed in the paper, and the praise felt too surreal to believe. It felt like she’d finally made it.
“Love it? There are two more paragraphs singing your praises!” Lena beamed, earning a few stares from those around them. “The review has been posted all over social media. Be prepared to be very busy.”
“I feel like I can finally breathe again, after months of stressing about all this. I can’t believe they love it! I’m so glad I left the commission form open on my website.” couldn’t wait to get home and check if she had any new commissions or print orders.
She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to burst out in a fit of joy-filled laughter. Probably better not to look like she’d lost her mind, if she wanted these people to purchase her art.
“Has Cillian seen this? When is he getting here?” Lena asked the dreaded question.
She read ’s hesitation in an instant.
“Cillian hasn’t turned up? You’ve been showing for a week, and he couldn’t make it for one night? Are you serious?” she whispered as placed a red dot on another sold painting.
She’d been worried about the price putting people off, but Lena had informed her at the start of the night that three of her largest paintings had sold to one collector at asking. The best part about having an agent was that she did all the price negotiating. was terrible at pricing—she’d give everything away for free if she could.
“After so many years of struggling, I have a sell-out show and an agent to celebrate my success with. Please let’s just bask in this moment?” pleaded. “Do I want him here? Yes, but nothing can dull my shine right now. I’ve a sneaking suspicion that Cillian bought the three paintings since he couldn’t make it. He mentioned wanting to purchase some art to decorate the villa in Italy.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t think the worst of him. I won’t bring him up again, but you shouldn’t let him get away with not being here for you. How many times have you made sacrifices to be at one of his shows or be there to support him?” Lena offered her a glass of sparkling water, since she didn’t drink while working.
clinked her long, manicured nails against the glass to ease her nerves. She’d had her nails done for the first time for the show, since they were usually stained with paint. Given all the hands she’d be shaking, she wanted to make a good impression—and give her hands a treat for all the hard work they’d done to bring her to this point in her career.
“It’s the band’s first stadium tour. Him missing one exhibition isn’t the end of the world,” reasoned. She hated to be the girl who was always defending her absentee boyfriend, but she’d been with him long before he was a famous rockstar and understood the stress he was under.
“Judging by how this exhibition has gone, and the beaming faces of the gallery owners, it won’t be your last show here,” Lena said with a wink.
Even if exhibitions were more stressful than selling prints online, it was great to see the collection appreciated by so many in person.
“He wanted to be here, but he has a show in Munich tomorrow. I couldn’t ask him to fly home for my last night. I had no expectations that he’d be here,” said, organising her remaining prints at the front of the gallery. It was awfully hot despite the late hour, and with the door opening and closing, it was nice to get a breath of fresh air. “The same way he didn’t expect me to be at his London show last week because I was getting everything ready for the exhibition.” tucked a strand of her cropped lilac hair behind her ear as the draught by the door caused some strands to stick to her lip gloss.
“That’s different,” Lena countered, taking a salmon puff from a passing tray of hors d’oeuvres. “You’ve gone to countless concerts, and this is your first big exhibition.”
knew Lena didn’t like her fiancé. They’d met briefly before Cillian left for the tour months back, but they hadn’t clicked, and his lack of support since hadn’t helped. Not that she needed them to get along. Lena was her agent first and friend second, and she was always professional.
“We’re in this fabulous gallery, surrounded by fabulously creative minds, and celebrating my sell-out exhibition. Please just be ridiculously happy for me.” put out some more cards with her commission details, trying not to let Lena’s concerns ruin her buzz. “Tomorrow, when you wake up hungover and I drag you to an early-riser yoga class, you can bitch as much as you want about his failures as a boyfriend.”
Fiancé, corrected herself. The ring on her finger, an obscenely large diamond that wasn’t her style, glared up at her, but his heart was in the right place. They hadn’t grown up with much, so he tended to overcompensate. At twenty-six, she hadn’t been expecting a proposal. Her art career was taking off, and with Cillian being away for months with his band, Brothers of Anarchy, it felt crazy to think about planning a wedding.
“Fine, I’ll stop.” Lena gave in. “I’m ridiculously happy for you. With all the money you’ve made tonight, you’ll be able to stop temping.”
Lena was the only person knew who loved her desk job, though she was rarely at her desk. Public relations meant she spent most of her time wining and dining, attending openings and premieres of the clients she managed.
“You’ll be happy to hear I handed in my notice this morning. I’m officially a full-time artist,” said, still in disbelief. “I didn’t have much of a choice, since you’ve already booked three more exhibitions next year.” In the meantime, hoped the royalties from this show, commissions and her website sales would keep her comfortable. Once the rent was covered and she could paint all day, she didn’t care.
“I’ll cheers to that! I’m sure your mum and dad are so proud of you. I didn’t see them around?” Lena glanced around the busy studio, alive with small talk. illustrated emotions as characters, with scenes to match. She loved listening to what people thought, and seeing if they could figure out what emotion each painting depicted.
“You already missed them. They were some of the first to arrive, but with Dad’s bad hip they couldn’t stay long,” she said.
Just that morning, she’d paid them back for the two years of art school she’d attended. Her professors had called her work childish and doubted she’d ever be a ‘real’ artist. When she’d decided to drop out after two years, her parents never doubted her decision.
had the internet to thank for making her a success. She’d started with small prints, but seeing the large canvases on the walls felt like coming home. For an extra dash of petty, she’d sent some of her professors invites to the opening—which went unanswered.
“I’ll have to catch them next time,” Lena said. “Getting back to the sunrise yoga, why do we have to get up at the crack of dawn? Why don’t we have a late brunch and then go to an afternoon class like regular people?” she suggested, touching up her red lipstick. “I think celebrating should come with a long lie-in.”
Lena was blessed with genes that allowed her to remain trim without having to exercise, whereas only had to look at a dessert and her body would decide to hold onto it for life. That didn’t stop her from loving her sweet treats; she’d learnt to love her curves after years of too much exercise and obsessing over ‘good’ and ‘bad’ foods. It did nothing but ruin her mental health, and what’s wrong with being pear shaped? Pears are juicy and delicious.
“Because I’ve a flight to Munich in the afternoon,” admitted, as her phone vibrated in the pocket of her black midi dress. Is there anything better than a dress with pockets?
She hoped it was Cillian. Instead, it was her brother, Nick, the guitarist of Brothers of Anarchy or B.O.A for short, telling her he’d left her ticket for their concert at the hotel she’d booked last minute.
“I should’ve known that he’d make you go to him,” Lena said, when explained what was going on. “You haven’t seen him since he proposed.” Lena’s moaning was interrupted by a couple asking to buy a print of an illustrated flowerpot with a terrible scowl and flaming petals. tried not to laugh as Lena was forced into silence. The customers finished congratulating her before leaving with their purchase. Once they were out the door, worried Lena was going to explode as she turned the same shade as her auburn hair.
“He doesn’t even know I’m coming—it’s a surprise,” explained. “With the exhibit over, I finally have some time before I have to work on my next collection. I want to spend as much time with him as I can, maybe start planning the wedding. I was thinking Italy, something super small at the villa where he proposed.” She was getting carried away, but they had to start planning at some point and her Pinterest board was getting crowded with ideas.
“Italy is a beautiful idea, but there’s no rush. You’ve only been engaged a few months,” Lena said, always erring on the side of caution.
“I’m not saying I’m going to fly off tomorrow and elope.” tried to act as though she hadn’t considered it. She’d never been to Vegas, and with their busy schedules, it was an option. If they eloped, they wouldn’t have to worry about the press.
She doubted Cillian’s fans would be happy with his engagement. It didn’t matter that they’d been together since they were fourteen, an engaged rockstar wasn’t as sexy as someone attainable. did her best to keep her relationship away from her social media; she only posted about her art and the process that went into it. She liked to keep her private life private. But with Cillian and her brother being in one of the world’s biggest bands, it was hard to hide in the shadows.
“You’d better not! But if you do, please call me. It’d break my heart not to be there!” Lena gave her a tight squeeze.
“I promise not to get married without you.”
As much as she loved the idea of a private ceremony, having Lena by her side felt equally important. She struggled for years to find a trustworthy agent, but she and Lena had been fast friends since they met at an art show last year. Any time she doubted herself, Lena would (metaphorically) slap some sense into her.
“Thank you, and since you promise not to elope, I suppose I can join you at the crack of dawn.” Lena released her and put down her glass of champagne.
“I’ll bring you a latte with an extra shot,” promised as they headed over to a group of guests.
The exhibition wouldn’t go on much longer now that most of the paintings were sold, but she wanted to do some more mingling to thank everyone for attending.
“Better make it two extra shots!” Lena grabbed another glass of champagne. “Also, I purchased a painting for my parents. They fell in love with the breakfast scene I sent them. It’ll go perfectly in their cottage kitchen.”
stared at her wide-eyed. “You didn’t! I would’ve given it to you. Or made a copy for them!”
“Of course I did.” Lena blew her a kiss. “My best friend and client is a sell-out artist, it’s my duty to support you.”
couldn’t argue as they joined the other guests, but she reminded herself to buy Lena a large coffee and her favourite chocolate croissant in the morning.