Two days pass in a flurry of artistic mess and I cannot help but feel like I've gone ten rounds with Killer Croc by the time I've finished my commissioned work. Despite not wanting to really go out tonight, I know that I have to in order to deliver the posters and flyers to Kaspar and the rest of the band. They had forgiven me for forgetting about their project last time but if I flake out tonight I'm pretty sure that they won't want to deal with me in the future.
Sighing softly I gather up my things, including the folder filled with the art that they had requested, and slip them inside my messenger bag. Freshening up after all that time stuck in the studio had been amazing, and even though I'm tired I'm looking forwards to going out and seeing the show tonight. It will be a good way to celebrate finishing that project of mine.
As I go to leave I'm tempted to slip into my pumpkin coloured duffel coat, it's still freezing out there but it's hardly proper attire to wear to a rock gig so after a few moments of dithering I choose to sacrifice my health to looking good for the evening. Beginning my ritual before leaving my house, I open my bag and give a glance to the contents within;
"Purse, check. Keys, check. Make up, check. Mace, check." I hum to myself as I absent mindedly check the items off.
Mace is needed wherever you go in Gotham, I've heard too many horror stories that could have easily been prevented by having a can of mace or small switchblade in your possession. It makes me feel more secure. I'm honestly surprised though that the criminal underworld aren't building up a tolerance for the stuff, the amount of times they must have been sprayed with it.
Locking the door behind me as I leave the apartment, I sigh gently, sometimes I think that I work too much. Art isn't really work, but the exhaustion that comes with the all-nighters I have to pull is really starting to take its toll on me. It serves me right though in some sense, I should be more organised to actually do the things on time instead of waiting for the muse to come to me. That would be the sensible thing to do but, then again, you can't rush art.
The club is a few blocks away down by the Narrows and I hurry to it, I don't want to be out on my own on these streets for too long. I have been incredibly lucky so far, while I've lived here I've only been mugged twice on my way to and from somewhere but I still don't want to take the risk of my luck running out.
Every now and again a car roars down the tarmac, the only sound apart from my heels click clacking on the pavement slabs and somehow each time it makes me start a little bit. I'm too on edge. Whether it's more due to the caffeine I've been consuming or my location I'm unsure.
Eventually I arrive at the club, not even needing to show my ID, and I step inside glad of the warmth.
Spotlights, bright white pillars of light float around the room, and a dreary voice drones on and on about some depressing topic. Honestly I'll be glad when Venom gets on stage, their music is much livelier than this guy but he's only the opening act of the evening so I can't do him that much discredit. Casting my eyes around the room I spot the corridor leading backstage where the band is sure to be, and slip through without anyone even questioning me. The lack of security in this place used to unnerve me but now it's more of a convenience, I don't have to mess around with security and passes.
Catching sight of myself in the reflection of one of the dressing room mirrors as I pass, somehow dressed as I am I still don't really look like I fit in here. My eyes are far too vivid, far too large to be considered normal. I always loved them but, sometimes people are unnerved by how wide my irises truly are. Unfortunately my hair, untameable as it is, makes me head seem twice as big as it really is but I love that too, the colour fascinates me. It is vivid also, a shining dark orange. I have a few freckles dotted about the bridge of my nose, standing out against my pale white skin.
Overall, even though something seems skewed about me to most people I'm comfortable with myself. I came to accept my gangly long limbs a while ago, and even though I'm not particularly curvy I'm not a washboard either. I don't think I would change anything about myself even if Bruce Wayne gave me a check for any surgery of my choice. Not many people can say that about themselves and it makes me proud.
With a soft knock, I rap my knuckles upon the bands dressing room and wait for it to open. I see Kaspar standing there, his Joker make up half done and his purple suit on already –probably so it wouldn't be covered in paint if he put it on after his make-up. I grin brightly up at him and he returns the smile.
"There you are, we were worried that you weren't going to show." He states, jokingly, as he stands aside letting me enter the dressing room where the rest of the band is gathered.
"Yeah, you know I thought about not coming but…I didn't know how you would survive without seeing the art of epic proportions I've made for you all." I tease, pulling the folder out of my bag that contains the posters and flyers they've asked for.
"Great, let's see them then."
I open the folder, slowly. I'm slightly nervous about what they are going to think about them, honestly I get this way when anyone is looking at what I make. Criticism I can take, but, only to a certain level I don't like people flaming my work when there really is no need. Drawing out the art I lay them down on the dressing room table.
Five different styles of flyers with one of the band members faces on each, made up in their stage costumes, and one style of poster with all five of them on it and the latest tour dates and venues.
Drawing Ethan, who dresses as Killer Croc was the hardest to draw. The scales that dot his face when he's wearing his make-up were hard to recreate on canvas and needed several drafts but I think that I got it down by the third try.
Silence flits across the room and I gulp softly, my eyes locking worriedly from member to member to try and gauge their reactions. Hopefully they would like them, otherwise it would have been two days of work completely wasted. There's a sly smile on Kaspar's face which is one of the only clues I can garner about their reaction to the work.
"Well, what do you think?" I ask, getting slightly irked by their silence.
"I can't believe that we managed to pick someone like you up off the streets, honestly. You're pretty good Meradith, I think they're real good." Kaspar grins.
"I think mines the best like." Ethan chimes in "Those scales look bloody realistic."
I grin brightly, glowing with the small shreds of praise. Many people think that art is all about self-expression, not about what other people think of what you do and to some extent it is but...I can't help but feel even better about myself when I see people loving my work. I feel even better now because I know for sure that they are going to buy the art off of me, and I'll have some money coming in to pay the rent with.
"Oh thank you! I'm so glad that you like them. So, the big question is are you happy enough to buy them off me?" I ask, clasping my hands in front of me slightly nervously.
"Of course we are, weirdo." Kaspar jokes, shaking his head as he chuckles "We'd be stupid not to, how much do you want for them?"
Pricing is something that I thought about long and hard when selling my art, they are expressions of myself in a way and I'm selling them. This makes me want to drive the price right up but, another part of me wants to give it away for free as long as the person loves it then it's going to a good home. Of course, my logical brain suggests a compromise between the two. I do need to eat after all.
"Uhm, normally I'd charge £50 per flyer sized piece and £100 for the flyer so £350 overall." I stated nervously, hoping that they wouldn't think that it was too expensive.
"Pfft, is that all?" Ethan snorts "Girl we just got sponsored by a major brand, so since we don't need to lay out money for equipment any more we can afford to spend more on advertising and sh*t. For something this good I think we can do a little better than that don't you think?" he asks the rest of the band, although not really waiting for their permission before deciding on paying her more.
Kaspar nods along with him though and traipses over to a cash box in the corner of the room, fiddling around with some notes before eventually deciding on an amount and heading back over to me money folded over in his hand.
"I think that we can." He smirks, placing the money in my hand gently "Here's £500, and whenever we want new art, we know who to come to right guys?"
"Damn straight." They reply in chorus.
Glancing down at the money in my hand I blink a little shocked, I am glad though that they paid me a little more. The £350 would have paid my rents and given me the smallest amount of money left over but now I had a lot left so I could afford to get myself some extra luxuries maybe even some more paint supplies I need. With a grateful smile I slip the money into my purse and shut my bag tightly.
"Thank you." I whisper softly, to which Kaspar only nods and Ethan sends a grin my way before going back to the make-up chair to have his scales finished.
"Now all that boring business is taken care of, you are going to stay for the show aren't you?" Kaspar asks, picking up his guitar and plucking at the strings absent-mindedly.
"Oh of course I am! I've been looking forwards to it." I reply with a gentle smile.
The thought of the show was one of the main driving forces that got me through the days of working on the pieces, not to mention that doing so actually made me really excited to see the band again all dressed up in their costumes. Their act really is amazing and I'm not surprised that they got sponsored by one of the bigger labels. Glancing around the other members I see: Noel, who is fiddling with his monocle trying to make it sit right; Veronica who turns this way and that in the mirror, trying to fix her headband just right in her blonde hair; and Jake, who is still having his make -up done. It looks like it takes forever, having a whole side of his face done in that burn effect.
It's like stepping into my own little fantasy world. Besides, this is as close to the Gotham Supervillains I'm ever likely going to get.