SAVOIR FAIRE — You might not get another chance to talk with him like this. Ask him about himself! Get to know him!
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — *Really* get to know him.
YOU — “So… you’re an artist?”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He looks at you with genuine surprise. “I… was a student. How did you know that, gendarme?”
YOU — “Your Sunday friend mentioned it.”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Did he, now?” He lifts an eyebrow. “And what did he tell you?”
EMPATHY — He seems skeptical, but it isn’t aimed at you.
YOU — “He said you were deeply enmeshed in all of the fine arts.”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His smile turns a little wry. “How very… characteristic of him.”
DRAMA — By which he means, “That prick really doesn’t listen to anything I tell him,” sire.
YOU — “Is that… not true?”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “No, gendarme,” he says, and despite his smile, he sounds sad. “I wouldn’t say I’m *enmeshed* so much as hanging by a thread. The atelier school across the river holds public figure drawing sessions, and I make the trip when I can, but… I haven’t been enrolled as a proper student in a long while.”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He chuckles, tapping his cigarette on the edge of the railing. “Take a wild guess.”
LOGIC — There’s a reason that this man and the atelier school are on opposite sides of the river.
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Beautiful. Got it in one.” He shrugs lightly. “Art costs money, artists have none. It’s a tale as old as time, gendarme.”
EMPATHY — It hurts him more than he cares to admit. He feels foolish for ever having dreamt of anything more than this. He’s long since accepted that this is as good as it gets: a cigarette under the stars, a skyline that fills him both with fondness and resignation.
INLAND EMPIRE — Have you ever loved anything like that? Past the point of resentment. Falling and loving the pit for how it catches you. For all the people at the bottom alongside you, trying to make it feel like home.
“I’m sorry. I hope you can go back someday.”
“Art shouldn’t be about money, anyway. A hungry artist is an artist with integrity!”
“Maybe you should consider a career change? Maybe I should, too. I’m even more broke than you are.”
“Is art not, at its core, about sharing an experience with others? Is every moment that we connect with another person not a performance of love and humanity? Is every sketch you hold onto not an experience that you are hoping to share with your future self? Your connection to the arts can never truly be severed. You are forever enmeshed.”
What the hell is up with that last one? Can’t I say it in a less pretentious way?
CONCEPTUALIZATION — Pretentious?! That came straight from the heart, you hack! But fine. If you want to sound like a total pleb, be my guest.
YOU — “I think you can be an artist even without the fancy atelier. A thread is still a thread.”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He considers you for a long moment, his expression difficult to read with the city lights behind him. Then his eyes slide down to the cigarette butts at his feet, and he smiles again.
“I didn’t peg you as an optimist,” he says with the barest trace of a chuckle. “But… maybe you’re right. I’m not sure I could do the whole art career thing if it meant…” His sentence trails into the night with the smoke from his cigarette.
EMPATHY — “If it meant becoming a Sunday friend to Martinaise.” That’s what he was going to say.
YOU — “Maybe it doesn’t have to be a career. Maybe you can just be your beautiful self in beautiful Martinaise.”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He laughs suddenly. Not his usual knowing chuckle, a *real* laugh. One that even he wasn’t expecting. “You think Martinaise is beautiful, gendarme?”
EMPATHY — He isn’t making fun of you. You just took him aback. In a good way.
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His smile reaches his eyes this time. The deep lines around them crinkle into crow’s feet. “I do, too. I wish everyone could see it…”
YOU — “I think they will, someday. I think something beautiful is going to happen.”
CONCEPTUALIZATION — Hey, that’s pretty good. You should use that.
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He tilts his head, regarding you thoughtfully.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — Almost like a painter examining his canvas, looking for potential.
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “…I think maybe something beautiful is already happening for you, gendarme,” he says softly.
VOLITION — Maybe so. You hope so.
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