Closed starter: @elahehelabid Location: Redwood Art Gallery
One of the first places Julian went when he got back to town was the gallery. He liked how the pieces were never the same, how there was always at least two new art works on display as the ones before it got sold or retired. He hadn’t been since his initial return -- there was some sort of drama surrounding it, and he really didn’t want to deal with a whole crowd of people -- but he was glad to see there were only less than a handful of people when he decided to check it out again. He chewed on the leather bracelet around his wrist as he walked through the gallery, his eyes zeroing in on a piece with a red dot stuck on the wall next to it.
He liked the ones with the red dots the best -- the ones that meant were sold. He always wondered what it took to sell art, what that pièce de résistance was that made someone want to spend their hard earned money on it -- and a lot of it, at that. He never thought his art would have what it takes. Tattoos were different, he was paid more in labor and quality than he was for the art itself. He thought if he ever got Elaheh to hang a piece of his traditional work in the gallery -- which was a pipe dream by itself, his shit was weird and he knew it -- the only way it would sell was if a rich asshole used it to launder money.
Ela stood next to the painting he was headed towards and he hesitated. They weren’t close -- she only had him lucid for a year or so before he lost his shit and art was the last thing on his mind -- and he hoped he didn’t remember him as well as he remembered her. He was sick of explaining himself. He was sick of the looks. Still, he went over. He was quiet for a minute, his eyes searching the canvas, before he sighed. “What do you think interested Mr. Red Dot enough to buy this one?” he asked, his eyes lingering on the painting for a moment longer before he turned to her. “You were probably the one who sold it, so you could also just, like... Give me the inside scoop.”
