Claude Faustus's night, well early morning actually, was not going well. At all. His apartment was silent apart from the sounds of his paintbrush scritching the canvas, painting a blur of black, white and grey. His hand was beginning to cramp from holding the brush at an awkward angle for hours, and his eyes were swimming with tiredness, yet he still kept going with his task.
A few more hours and then it would be done. He tried to convince himself wearily. That was also what he had said a few hours before then. And a few hours before that. He was well aware that he was lying to himself, but the lie helped him paint with new enthusiasm for a bit longer, the brush making meticulous lines, gradually forming a image depicting a lonely seascape.
Claude awoke to his alarm blaring, an incredibly obnoxious sound filling his small bedroom. A pale arm shot out from underneath the warm covers, he cringed at the cold prickling on his bare arm, his hand groping the air trying to locate the off button, so he could return to his much wanted slumber.
He finally found the button and the alarm stopped its noise. He was about to pull the dark gold duvet over his head and fall back asleep when he remembered with a jolt the reason he had set his alarm that early.
The meeting.
Claude glanced at his alarm clock, the numbers glowing a luminescent blue and scowled. No sane person should be waking at six-thirty in the morning. Ever! It was an utterly ungodly hour! For fucks sake it was still dark outside, Claude noted with disdain as he rolled up the rooms blinds to check the weather. Rain was already rolling down the window in large rivers and he could hear wind howling and rustling the trees that lined the street outside his small apartment.
All in all it was typical weather in England. It was shaping up to be a rather mundane day. Just like any other day really. It was as if all the colour was leaching out of his life, leaving him trapped in a world that consisted only of shades of grey. And it (not that he'd ever admit it to anyone) frightened him. Why shouldn't it? Who could possibly want to live in a world that lacked vibrancy. Except . . . To Claude it felt like he was already there. Monotony ruled his life as of late, suffocating him with an air compiled of regret and unfulfilled dreams.
His internal monologue was cut short as his cellphone began to vibrate frantically on the floor, where he had haphazardly chucked it last night before crawling into bed, indicating one new text message.
He sighed when he realised who was most likely the sender of the text. Never the less he reached down and grabbed the phone before flipping it open and sighing as his suspicions were confirmed.
[1] new text message
From: Hannah Anafellowz
Sent: 6:35a.m
Claude, remember the meeting! You better be here before 7 or I'll absolutely throttle you. Understand? God help me if you're even 1 sec late.-xo
Why the bloody fuck did she feel the need to add 'xo' to the end of what was otherwise a rather bitchy and demanding text? It didn't make it any less annoying! If anything, it made it even more so! Women absolutely baffled Claude. He was also a little bit offended that she apparently thought of him as someone who needed constant reminding. (If the last week had been anything to go by, his inbox was near bursting with text's from Hannah, all reminding him about the meeting.)
Sure, he owed his agent a lot, she was after all the woman who had kick-started his (albeit small) career as an artist.
Sent [1] message
To:Hannah Annafellows
Sent:6:37am
yeah yeah, dnt panic, il b there. Just giv me 5 mins to get ready then il leave k?
[1] new text message
From: Hannah Annafellows
Sent: 6:38am
You better. And hurry. This is important.
Ooooh, no 'xo' this time. She must be pissed, Claude noted. An unhappy Hannah generally equaled an unhappy Claude.
He could just imagine the woman tapping her manicured nails against the nearest surface, waiting impatiently. He tapped out a quick reply before rummaging through the rubbish on his floor for a pair of jeans.
Sent [1] new message.
To:Hannah Annafellows
Sent:6:39 am
K.
[1] new text message
From Hannah Annafellows
Sent: 6:40am
I mean it, Claude. I have a number of issues I want to discuss with you.
She was always so formal in text and emails. . . Always reminding Claude that their relationship was strictly professional.
Pft, As if I would even try anything with her . . . For one, she's at least ten years older then me. And secondly, she has a vagina. No thanks.
Sent [1] new message
To:Hannah Annafellows
Sent 6:42am
I already said K.
Hannah could be insufferable sometimes, he thought with a grim smile. However, he owed her, so he would plaster on a polite smile and attend her little meetings at the coffee shop just down his block.
He pulled on a pair of his beloved ripped up jeans and threw on a faded and tattered old plaid shirt, before running his hands through his messy raven locks in a mock attempt to brush out the tangles that seemed to permanently reside in his hair.
He began to leave his room, trying to avoid the clutter that covered his floor.
He should really get 'round to cleaning that sometime-
Claude got caught up in thought until he accidentally trod on a opened tube of burnt sienna paint that somehow got left lying on his floor amidst a pile of paintbrushes of various sizes.
"Fuck!" the expletive left his mouth as the gooey acrylic squirted his bare foot, and his carpet.
The acrylic paint quickly spread into his pale carpet, coating the fibres a dark brown. Claude immediately regretted not having wooden floors where he could simply wipe away the paint with a cloth. Instead he was faced with the arduous task of spraying chemicals and scrubbing until his hands felt raw. The paint was already starting to dry, and clump fibers together in a sticky mess.
He shot a glance at the old clock hanging on his wall and realized that he had to be at the coffee shop in fifteen minutes, leaving him a dilemma, risk Hannahs wrath by being late, and clean his carpet? Or does he start jogging to the coffee shop now, least he be late for this very important meeting? He wasted yet another minute trying to choose, and just as he was about to go rummage in the cupboard underneath the kitchen sink for cleaning product (hey, he didn't want to have to deal with stained carpet when he came back from the meeting) he received yet another text from Hannah, telling him the meeting time had changed and that he was instead expected at the coffee shop in ten minutes.
… Well that solved Claudes dilemma rather quickly. Attempting to push all thoughts of paints and carpets out of his head, Claude pulled on a ratty pair of canvas sneakers and began to leave, nearly tripping over a half-finished painting that lay near the door. Quickly he began to jog to the shop, ignoring the rain pelting his skinny frame.
Claude finally arrived at the coffee shop with the flashy sign proudly proclaiming their 'low low low prices!' along with offering weary passerby's a place of rest. He checked his phone briefly to see the time, and found he was a whole three minutes late. Hannah was going to absolutely kill him! He braced himself as he pushed open the large door, slinking into the heated room with slight trepidation about the whole ordeal.
He still wasn't entirely sure what the meeting was about, just that Hannah had told him (many, many times) it was Important. With a capital 'I'.
Was she displeased with his work? The idea left a bitter taste in Claude mouth. He put the utmost care in his work, painting with delicate strokes, and although he hadn't quite made it in the art world just yet, he was sure one day he would.
Well, Claude thought, only one way to find out.
AN: Oh gosh guys, whats this I'm writing? Not crack! IMPOSIBRU. So bear with me for a bit, I'm tryna do more /slightly/ serious writing
This is ridiculously narrative at the moment, however think of it more as a prolouge. Next chapter there will be dialogue! And we get to meet Hannah!
This is probably going to be a slow, meandering story, with a fair amount of angst, it will also cover more issues that can possibly be personal/upsetting for some, so those easily offended/upset shouldn't read later chapters maybe. Reader discretion advised trololol. This story will not just be in standard format, it will also have text messaging, emailing, letters etc.
Reviews would be very much appreciated, if you want (:
Here's just some quick notes on this AU if you want ^_^
-It's set in pretty much modern day England
-Claude's just out of art school, by a few years (?) He's in his early 20's
-Hannah is an agent for different talents, models, artists, photographers etc. She helps get people their big break. She's in her early 30's
-Hannah found Claude when he was still in art school, and has been his agent-like thing since then, however Claude is still very much unknown.
-Claude paints meticulously, no gestural art for him :P he also paints in black and white (grey) he's very monochromatic.
-Yes, Claude is gay :P Incase you couldn't tell from the whole EWWW LADYBITS.
-Alois will be coming in soon aswell, and yes, he will be Claude's love interest. He's in his late teens. 19 (?)
-Claude lives alone in a shitty apartment, he's a poor mofo.
-I picture Claude to be pretty Indie/Boho in this AU, also pretty hipsterish.
-Sebastian and Ciel will be making an appearance much later on.
On a side note, this is probably going to be slowly updated, personal life is a wee bit hectic atm/ along with rather soul crushing.