Chapter 17 #3
He grinned, sagging against the sink in relief.
“It’s from the guy I’m seeing.” The sentence felt strange in his mouth – he hadn’t been with a guy since Zedd – but strange in a way that kicked his heart into a higher gear and made him eagerly tear open the envelope.
“We watched Hellraiser the other day. Micah is such a doll. This is probably a dinner invitation, or a wholesome letter wishing me a good day, or–”
Cosmo slid out a fifty-dollar gift certificate to Carnal Delights, that sex toy shop by the car wash on Main.
He squeaked and stuffed the certificate back into the envelope.
What a completely inappropriate thing to send on Cosmo’s first day on the job!
How was he supposed to concentrate on work with a naughty gift from Micah in his back pocket?
The joy inside him swelled until there was no room left for anything else. He’d have to send Micah something in return.
If Simone noticed the nature of Cosmo’s gift, she made no indication, her gaze fixed at a blank spot on the wall. “Micah… Does he happen to be a portrait artist?”
“Yes. He’s exceptional.”
“I was just reviewing his portfolio this morning. His drawings have the precision of Albrecht Dürer, but with the unsettling quality of Alfred Kubin.”
“Oh my god, you’re so right!” Cosmo tucked away the envelope and pulled out his phone. He opened a photo of the portrait Micah had let him keep. “He’s done some of me, and I can’t get over them.”
“His other pieces are great, but this is fantastic. He has more?”
Micah had tagged Cosmo in a Flashbulb post, but Cosmo had been too distracted by his pledge to endure papercuts and bathroom tap water to see what it was.
He opened Micah’s profile, and his breath caught.
Selfies! Micah stared into the camera almost aggressively, defiantly, his lips pinched.
His white tee hugged his strong shoulders and revealed more than a little chest hair.
With some difficulty, he scrolled past the selfies and found the rest of the portraits Micah had done of Cosmo. He handed Simone the phone. Her eyes lit up, and she tugged on her earring. “Fantastic. Fantastic. He should have included these in his portfolio.”
Cosmo imagined Micah’s art on display in Night Gallery, and how viewers’ heads would turn when they realized the fabulous and disquieting portraits were of none other than the gallery’s new registrar. “Oh! Can you imagine if there were portraits of the gallery staff on display?”
Simone gasped. “That would be so fun for the next reception. Does he take commissions?”
“He does. I’m not certain how booked he is right now, but I’m sure he would love to participate. He has a lot of practice drawing life models.” Cosmo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “You could pose for him!”
He didn’t want to put words in Micah’s mouth, but he’d mentioned living off his commissions, and life drawing being his bread and butter.
“I’ll give him a call about his portfolio and set something up.” Simone turned to the mirror and pouted, patting the sides of her gumby fade. “As long as he can make my portrait look as beautiful as yours. I feel bloated.”
Cosmo resisted the urge to screech with joy. “He makes everyone look beautiful, which is part of the allure of his art. And you’re a vision, regardless.”
“You’re sweet.” She headed for the door. “I think this is enough girl-talk in the bathroom, hm? We have things to do.”
“Of course.” He closed out of Flashbulb and tapped out a text to Micah:
This would be an incredible way for Micah to build up his clientele and get back into the gallery scene. And how wonderful it would be for him to draw a live model again.
With extra vigor in his step, he headed back into the gallery to find Clarence. Even if he had to suffer through more tutorials he already knew by heart, thinking about that gift certificate in his back pocket was going to help pass the time. Oh, Micah.
As he reached the end of the hall, he froze mid-step, overwhelmed by the sudden sense that Zedd was here. He was going to come around the corner, one of his eyes blacked and both of them blazing, snatch Cosmo by the arms and slam him into the wall.
His chest heaving, Cosmo backpedaled, a hand to his throat. Not here too. Was there nothing Zedd couldn’t taint?
He couldn’t get into a fight with Zedd in a new place of work. And he sincerely doubted Clarence had the fire and defensiveness Royce did to drive his ex away.
Cosmo’s stomach dropped. He didn’t want to think about Royce. Or Zedd.
The envelope crinkled as Cosmo felt for it. He thought of the hickey on his neck, of Micah whispering that he wanted Cosmo to leave tracks all over his heart. Zedd was not going to ruin this, no matter how angry he was. This was Cosmo’s life, and he wasn’t beholden to anyone.
Stepping around the corner and steadying himself against the wall, he strained for the tell-tale clomp of Zedd’s leather boots, but was met only with the soft chatter of visitors admiring an exhibit.
Maybe he wouldn’t show. That sense of presque vu meant something had changed slightly.
Zedd had confronted Cosmo on the original timeline, but maybe he wouldn’t show in the parallel one here.
Or maybe, like the first kiss with Micah, the events would arrive at a different time, and Zedd would pop up tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.
Cosmo made a noise in his throat. Why was Zedd so upset anyway? Over the Flashbulb pictures? He reached harder into the adjacent memory, fishing for the words Zedd hurled.
Zedd’s hot breath buffeted his face, his eyes watery and jaw tight as he pressed Cosmo into the wall.
Just stop. Tell him to stop, and I’ll leave you alone.
I swear to God. An involuntary shiver ran through Cosmo’s body as he tried to shake away the memory of his other self.
This again. Goddamn it. Screw him! Micah wasn’t going to stop seeing Cosmo, and that was a fact Zedd would have to deal with.
A hand grazed Cosmo’s elbow, and he screamed. The sound echoed, and visitors turned his way.
Clarence frowned at him, then pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If you’re quite finished, er, standing in the hallway, we have work to get done.”