"Midnight Clear" 1
Earlier episodes of "The Angel Stream" here:
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaelmcgear/angelstreampage.html
And now...
After class.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, November 2005
After Thanksgiving the weather took a hard turn towards winter, plunging the temperature in Pittsburgh into the low 30's.
Justin wrapped his scarf tighter around his face as he walked across the Carnegie Mellon campus, his portfolio under his arm. The semester was ending and so was his Figure Drawing class. Also his tenure as an art student. Or as a wannabe art student.
He tried not to think about how much he'd enjoyed the drawing studio. Listening to his fellow students talk about their current art classes and discuss which ones they were planning to take next semester reminded him of the four years he'd wasted at Dartmouth taking business-related classes he had no intention of ever using.
Oh, well -- Brian always said that no knowledge was wasted knowledge. "When you're a famous artist and have to negotiate contracts with art dealers and galleries, you'll be glad you have some business skills under your belt," Brian told him. "It never hurts to understand how those guys think -- or to know that they're all after the most bang for their buck. To them art isn't about creativity or uplifting the soul of mankind or any of that bullshit. It's a fucking commodity. It's something to buy and sell. They'll try to buy your stuff low and then sell it high. Always remember that everyone in business is out to screw you, Sunshine -- in more ways than one!"
Justin smiled thinking about Brian's sage advice -- advice that almost always ended up with a reference to sex. He always looked so serious when he was giving one of his lectures or imparting what he saw as queer wisdom to his young lover. "Never trust a straight guy, no matter how friendly he seems. He'll always fuck you over in the end -- and not in a good way!" "If Deb ever comes over here with a fucking casserole dish, toss it in the trash immediately. It'll be pure carbs that'll go directly to your ass!" "Never use any of those cheap condoms. Don't skimp on the quality of anything that touches your body. And that goes for lube, anti-aging cream, and underwear."
"I don't use anti-aging cream," Justin reminded him.
Brian had narrowed his dark green eyes. "You will," he intoned. "Just fucking wait!"
"Hey, Justin!"
It was Kathy. She was a short, plump blonde who seemed like an airhead -- until she picked up a pencil. She was one of the best artists in the class, especially good at capturing a perfect likeness in an effortless manner Justin openly admired. He remembered once he had felt that same kind of freedom when he drew. But that was before he'd spent four years stifling his talent and pretending his right hand wasn't itching to throw away his Statistics homework and draw the professor instead.
"Hey, Kathy," Justin said. "What's up?"
"God! It's freezing!" she shivered. "You want to get some coffee? I was up all night working on my Graphics project and I really need a major jolt of caffeine."
"Sorry, but I can't. I need to get home and change. I'm working the dinner shift at the Watermark tonight," Justin said regretfully. He liked talking to Kathy. She was as funny as she was talented and he enjoyed her pointed comments about the class and other students.
"Oh," said Kathy, walking in step beside him. "I didn't know you worked there. I hear it's a nice place."
"It's all right," Justin shrugged. "But avoid Sunday brunch -- it's all the leftovers they didn't sell Friday and Saturday!"
Kathy laughed. "I'll remember that! You know, I really liked your drawing today."
Justin blushed. Professor McBride had used his sketch as a good example of perspective. That made Justin both proud and embarrassed at the same time. He wasn't used to being singled out. "Thanks. The model was really good."
Kathy raised an eyebrow. "The model had nothing to do with it! Your drawing was good. You're one of the best draftsmen in the whole class, so I don't know why you don't flaunt it more. Look at J.J. -- he thinks he's hot shit and he can't draw half as well as you!" J.J. was the self-proclaimed star of the class -- self-proclaimed being the operative word. Most of the girls -- and a few of the boys -- were majorly in love with the handsome, but egotistical J.J.
"But J.J. has already had a piece in the Austin Gallery's Fall Show, so he actually has something to brag about," Justin pointed out. "I'm lucky to be in the class at all."
Kathy frowned. "That's not true. Professor McBride only lets in the most promising students. That's why you have to apply to be in the class. You wouldn't have been accepted if you didn't belong there."
"Maybe," Justin sighed. "But... I'm not a real art student. That's the problem."
"What do you mean you're not a real art student?" Kathy asked. There was something slightly mysterious about Justin, but Kathy couldn't put her finger on it. She knew that he lived off campus and that he rarely socialized with the other students, but that's all she really knew about him. Except that he was gay. But then so were half the guys in the Art School.
"I'm only taking the drawing studio," Justin confided. "I'm a part-timer. I wanted to study art for my undergraduate major, but my parents wouldn't let me. So this is a kind of second chance for me."
"That's crummy," Kathy said. "But what's the difference whether you're full-time or part-time? It doesn't matter what classes you take. That has nothing to do with talent. What matters is the kind of art you produce. And I like your stuff, Justin. You have a good eye. And you have a firm, steady hand. That's what really matters."
"Thanks, Kathy," said Justin. "You know I think you're one of the best in the class. And you make it seem so easy. I love to draw, but sometimes it's hard for me. I still feel inhibited."
"You showed me some figure studies you did," said Kathy. "Male nudes. Those didn't seem very inhibited to me!"
Justin blushed again, but then he grinned. "That's because those were of Brian. It's hard for me to feel inhibited when I'm drawing him!"
"Who's Brian?" Kathy asked, her curiosity piqued.
"My boyfriend," Justin admitted.
"Wow," Kathy exclaimed. "If he really looks like those drawings, then he's hot! He should come in and model for the class!"
"I'll tell him you said so. But I don't think modeling is his thing."
"Maybe it should be," she said. "What does he do?"
Justin hesitated. Should he say advertising or public relations? Brian's former job or his new career? "He's in P.R."
Kathy looked impressed. "That must be interesting. You guys must go to a lot of great parties!"
Justin shook his head. "Not really. At least, I don't. I have to work evenings. I told you I wasn't a real artist. Right now I'm only a waiter."
"Ha!" Kathy sniffed. "You're as much of an artist as anyone else in the class, Justin. I do some website creation to make extra money. And J.J. the Wonder Artist works at the Gap out at the Monroeville Mall!"
"I'd like to work at the Gap," said Justin. "But Brian says I have no fashion sense at all!"
"How much fashion sense do you need to work at the Gap?" Kathy said dismissively. "Just look at J.J.! He looks like an unmade bed!"
Justin thought about the way Brian looked when he got up in the morning, all unshaven, with his hair sticking up in 10 different directions at the same time. And there was no one hotter than Brian. "That could be kind of hot."
Kathy stuck her tongue out. "Not when it's J.J.!"
"That's true." Justin and Kathy stopped next to the Jeep. He'd been running late that morning and been lucky to find a parking spot not too far from the Art Building. "Would you like a ride? I'm heading in the direction of Liberty Avenue."
"No," said Kathy. "I need to go and get that coffee. I still have an Art History lecture to get through before I can go home and crash! Maybe we can get together another time. When you don't have to go to work."
"I'd like that," said Justin. "But I'm pretty busy right now. I'm trying to get in as many hours at the restaurant as I can. I need the money to buy Christmas presents." And to kick in my share of our living expenses, too, Justin added silently. He tried not to think about how tight their finances were, especially now that Christmas was coming.
"Well, maybe next semester," said Kathy. "See you, Justin!"
"See you!" Justin climbed into the Jeep and turned on the engine.
He liked Kathy. He wished he could go and have a cup of coffee with her and dish the rest of the class, but there was no time. That was the problem with Justin's life right now -- no fucking time. Never enough time. And as for next semester...
With luck when the Winter Semester began at Carnegie Mellon he'd be in San Francisco. With Brian. They'd be starting their new life in a new city, far away from Mayor Stockwell's Pittsburgh.
With luck.
Justin crossed his fingers and headed home to the loft.
***
http://www.fortruthis.net/gaelmcgear/angelstreampage.html
And now...
After class.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, November 2005
After Thanksgiving the weather took a hard turn towards winter, plunging the temperature in Pittsburgh into the low 30's.
Justin wrapped his scarf tighter around his face as he walked across the Carnegie Mellon campus, his portfolio under his arm. The semester was ending and so was his Figure Drawing class. Also his tenure as an art student. Or as a wannabe art student.
He tried not to think about how much he'd enjoyed the drawing studio. Listening to his fellow students talk about their current art classes and discuss which ones they were planning to take next semester reminded him of the four years he'd wasted at Dartmouth taking business-related classes he had no intention of ever using.
Oh, well -- Brian always said that no knowledge was wasted knowledge. "When you're a famous artist and have to negotiate contracts with art dealers and galleries, you'll be glad you have some business skills under your belt," Brian told him. "It never hurts to understand how those guys think -- or to know that they're all after the most bang for their buck. To them art isn't about creativity or uplifting the soul of mankind or any of that bullshit. It's a fucking commodity. It's something to buy and sell. They'll try to buy your stuff low and then sell it high. Always remember that everyone in business is out to screw you, Sunshine -- in more ways than one!"
Justin smiled thinking about Brian's sage advice -- advice that almost always ended up with a reference to sex. He always looked so serious when he was giving one of his lectures or imparting what he saw as queer wisdom to his young lover. "Never trust a straight guy, no matter how friendly he seems. He'll always fuck you over in the end -- and not in a good way!" "If Deb ever comes over here with a fucking casserole dish, toss it in the trash immediately. It'll be pure carbs that'll go directly to your ass!" "Never use any of those cheap condoms. Don't skimp on the quality of anything that touches your body. And that goes for lube, anti-aging cream, and underwear."
"I don't use anti-aging cream," Justin reminded him.
Brian had narrowed his dark green eyes. "You will," he intoned. "Just fucking wait!"
"Hey, Justin!"
It was Kathy. She was a short, plump blonde who seemed like an airhead -- until she picked up a pencil. She was one of the best artists in the class, especially good at capturing a perfect likeness in an effortless manner Justin openly admired. He remembered once he had felt that same kind of freedom when he drew. But that was before he'd spent four years stifling his talent and pretending his right hand wasn't itching to throw away his Statistics homework and draw the professor instead.
"Hey, Kathy," Justin said. "What's up?"
"God! It's freezing!" she shivered. "You want to get some coffee? I was up all night working on my Graphics project and I really need a major jolt of caffeine."
"Sorry, but I can't. I need to get home and change. I'm working the dinner shift at the Watermark tonight," Justin said regretfully. He liked talking to Kathy. She was as funny as she was talented and he enjoyed her pointed comments about the class and other students.
"Oh," said Kathy, walking in step beside him. "I didn't know you worked there. I hear it's a nice place."
"It's all right," Justin shrugged. "But avoid Sunday brunch -- it's all the leftovers they didn't sell Friday and Saturday!"
Kathy laughed. "I'll remember that! You know, I really liked your drawing today."
Justin blushed. Professor McBride had used his sketch as a good example of perspective. That made Justin both proud and embarrassed at the same time. He wasn't used to being singled out. "Thanks. The model was really good."
Kathy raised an eyebrow. "The model had nothing to do with it! Your drawing was good. You're one of the best draftsmen in the whole class, so I don't know why you don't flaunt it more. Look at J.J. -- he thinks he's hot shit and he can't draw half as well as you!" J.J. was the self-proclaimed star of the class -- self-proclaimed being the operative word. Most of the girls -- and a few of the boys -- were majorly in love with the handsome, but egotistical J.J.
"But J.J. has already had a piece in the Austin Gallery's Fall Show, so he actually has something to brag about," Justin pointed out. "I'm lucky to be in the class at all."
Kathy frowned. "That's not true. Professor McBride only lets in the most promising students. That's why you have to apply to be in the class. You wouldn't have been accepted if you didn't belong there."
"Maybe," Justin sighed. "But... I'm not a real art student. That's the problem."
"What do you mean you're not a real art student?" Kathy asked. There was something slightly mysterious about Justin, but Kathy couldn't put her finger on it. She knew that he lived off campus and that he rarely socialized with the other students, but that's all she really knew about him. Except that he was gay. But then so were half the guys in the Art School.
"I'm only taking the drawing studio," Justin confided. "I'm a part-timer. I wanted to study art for my undergraduate major, but my parents wouldn't let me. So this is a kind of second chance for me."
"That's crummy," Kathy said. "But what's the difference whether you're full-time or part-time? It doesn't matter what classes you take. That has nothing to do with talent. What matters is the kind of art you produce. And I like your stuff, Justin. You have a good eye. And you have a firm, steady hand. That's what really matters."
"Thanks, Kathy," said Justin. "You know I think you're one of the best in the class. And you make it seem so easy. I love to draw, but sometimes it's hard for me. I still feel inhibited."
"You showed me some figure studies you did," said Kathy. "Male nudes. Those didn't seem very inhibited to me!"
Justin blushed again, but then he grinned. "That's because those were of Brian. It's hard for me to feel inhibited when I'm drawing him!"
"Who's Brian?" Kathy asked, her curiosity piqued.
"My boyfriend," Justin admitted.
"Wow," Kathy exclaimed. "If he really looks like those drawings, then he's hot! He should come in and model for the class!"
"I'll tell him you said so. But I don't think modeling is his thing."
"Maybe it should be," she said. "What does he do?"
Justin hesitated. Should he say advertising or public relations? Brian's former job or his new career? "He's in P.R."
Kathy looked impressed. "That must be interesting. You guys must go to a lot of great parties!"
Justin shook his head. "Not really. At least, I don't. I have to work evenings. I told you I wasn't a real artist. Right now I'm only a waiter."
"Ha!" Kathy sniffed. "You're as much of an artist as anyone else in the class, Justin. I do some website creation to make extra money. And J.J. the Wonder Artist works at the Gap out at the Monroeville Mall!"
"I'd like to work at the Gap," said Justin. "But Brian says I have no fashion sense at all!"
"How much fashion sense do you need to work at the Gap?" Kathy said dismissively. "Just look at J.J.! He looks like an unmade bed!"
Justin thought about the way Brian looked when he got up in the morning, all unshaven, with his hair sticking up in 10 different directions at the same time. And there was no one hotter than Brian. "That could be kind of hot."
Kathy stuck her tongue out. "Not when it's J.J.!"
"That's true." Justin and Kathy stopped next to the Jeep. He'd been running late that morning and been lucky to find a parking spot not too far from the Art Building. "Would you like a ride? I'm heading in the direction of Liberty Avenue."
"No," said Kathy. "I need to go and get that coffee. I still have an Art History lecture to get through before I can go home and crash! Maybe we can get together another time. When you don't have to go to work."
"I'd like that," said Justin. "But I'm pretty busy right now. I'm trying to get in as many hours at the restaurant as I can. I need the money to buy Christmas presents." And to kick in my share of our living expenses, too, Justin added silently. He tried not to think about how tight their finances were, especially now that Christmas was coming.
"Well, maybe next semester," said Kathy. "See you, Justin!"
"See you!" Justin climbed into the Jeep and turned on the engine.
He liked Kathy. He wished he could go and have a cup of coffee with her and dish the rest of the class, but there was no time. That was the problem with Justin's life right now -- no fucking time. Never enough time. And as for next semester...
With luck when the Winter Semester began at Carnegie Mellon he'd be in San Francisco. With Brian. They'd be starting their new life in a new city, far away from Mayor Stockwell's Pittsburgh.
With luck.
Justin crossed his fingers and headed home to the loft.
***