ce

to the only place in the city where I still had a pulse.

paint-splattered canvas apron. The moment the rough fabric settled over my shoulders, the suffo

ive, six-foot canvas dominat

ing against an inferno. For weeks, it had been a piece abou

globs of crimson and cadmium red. My eyes were completely d

abric, dragging the color upward. The soft, tragic flames I had painted yesterday were obliterated, replaced by jagged, aggressive sp

f destroying and rebuilding the paintin

as shoved open w

e studio was overpowered by an aggressive cloud of Bacca

ine stiffened. I slowly tur

wealthy, designer-clad sorority sisters. She owned the space the se

eel of her Louboutin directly onto a charcoal sketch I had l

ont of my easel, using my body to shield the

ng her hand dramatically in the air. "Oh my god, Alex, it s

, stopping just inches away. Her eyes flicked ove

ally? It's so dark and depressing. Do you honestly think a piece

gripped the wooden handle of my paint

ng her perceived dominance. She lifted her left hand, making

and diamonds on her wrist. It was a Cartier limited-

een the charge on Josiah's iPad la

agged out her words, savoring every syllable. "Beautiful, isn't it? Josiah bought

the man she was sleeping with, and a dire

me drop my head in shame. I would have

iah call me a ghost? After w

just pa

t, then up at her face, and my eyes filled with absolute, unfiltered mockery

dismissal in my eyes struck a nerve she co

en, violent rage. She took a hard s

her voice shaking with anger. "What give

ve gesture. Her elbow slammed hard into the edge of the

l of black, toxic, muddy wate

red on the edge of the stool, falling dire

paintbrush to the floor and lunged forward, throw

las

ntly through my apron and my shirt, plastering the freezing fabric to my sp

d into a chorus of sharp, cr

t o