Never Good Enough
Because even genius' are never good enough.
This fic is more of the ramblings of a young, socially inept, lonely perfectionist who deals with his many assorted grievances by writing them as bad fanfics.
Official brown noser of The Blue Yeti
Artemis Fowl worked meticulously, ever the perfectionist. He applied paint to his canvas slowly, in tiny, perfect brushstrokes, every touch of paint on canvas tinged with fear, the fear of destroying all else on the surface.
Like so much else in his life, his paintings were completed to the full extent of his abilites, but somehow they always symbolised something else, the hope of being one step better.
He continued to paint, his strokes growing ever smaller. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he leant closer to the painting. His breathing was heavy and uneven. Just a few more strokes and another masterpiece would be complete, whether it was 'the' masterpiece was yet to be seen.
The tiny bead of perspiration let go of Artemis' hair and fell down toward the canvas. It landed with a tiny plopping sound on the paint, from there it leaked downwards, dragging paint with it, mixing colours.
Artemis didn't yell, didn't swear, he merely picked up the canvas and hurled it out the window, where it smashed into the cement, breaking into hundreds of pieces.
He pulled a new canvas up onto the easel and set brush to surface once more.
Artemis stood back and surveyed his work. His model, a professional, long blonde hair framing delicate features and large, blue eyes, rose, her long evening gown brushing lightly against the floor.
She stepped around behind Artemis and gasped. "Beautiful."
Artemis ignored her and cast an eye over his work. A tiny splodge in the paint here, and a shadow shaped the wrong way. Disgusting. He could do better than this, he knew it. This was not his best.
He picked up the canvas and took a closer look. At this range anyone could see that splodge. He was better than this, far better. He would not rest until he had created something to the fullest of his potential.
He held the canvas in one hand, and threw it into a corner. The girl, he vaguely remembered her name, Lorna, laura, no, Lara, stared at him in shock.
"What did you do that for? That was beautiful, you could have sold that, that was excellent. In all my years in this profession I have never been painted that well, and you throw it away?"
Artemis turned back to the easel, his expression unmoving. "It wasn't good enough. I can do better."
Lara turned and stormed toward the door, furious with Artemis. It was only a job, but something else tugged at her mind here. He was torturing himself, destroying himself, from the inside out.
She stopped when she reached the door. "You know what?"
Artemis glanced up, and for a second, he looked her in the eyes, pleading her to stay.
"Maybe you expect too much from yourself, maybe you'll neve be good enough." With those words she turned and continued down the corridor.
Artemis dropped his head onto the new canvas and a single tear dropped onto the shining, white material. Never good enough.
This fic is more of the ramblings of a young, socially inept, lonely perfectionist who deals with his many assorted grievances by writing them as bad fanfics.
Official brown noser of The Blue Yeti
Artemis Fowl worked meticulously, ever the perfectionist. He applied paint to his canvas slowly, in tiny, perfect brushstrokes, every touch of paint on canvas tinged with fear, the fear of destroying all else on the surface.
Like so much else in his life, his paintings were completed to the full extent of his abilites, but somehow they always symbolised something else, the hope of being one step better.
He continued to paint, his strokes growing ever smaller. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he leant closer to the painting. His breathing was heavy and uneven. Just a few more strokes and another masterpiece would be complete, whether it was 'the' masterpiece was yet to be seen.
The tiny bead of perspiration let go of Artemis' hair and fell down toward the canvas. It landed with a tiny plopping sound on the paint, from there it leaked downwards, dragging paint with it, mixing colours.
Artemis didn't yell, didn't swear, he merely picked up the canvas and hurled it out the window, where it smashed into the cement, breaking into hundreds of pieces.
He pulled a new canvas up onto the easel and set brush to surface once more.
Artemis stood back and surveyed his work. His model, a professional, long blonde hair framing delicate features and large, blue eyes, rose, her long evening gown brushing lightly against the floor.
She stepped around behind Artemis and gasped. "Beautiful."
Artemis ignored her and cast an eye over his work. A tiny splodge in the paint here, and a shadow shaped the wrong way. Disgusting. He could do better than this, he knew it. This was not his best.
He picked up the canvas and took a closer look. At this range anyone could see that splodge. He was better than this, far better. He would not rest until he had created something to the fullest of his potential.
He held the canvas in one hand, and threw it into a corner. The girl, he vaguely remembered her name, Lorna, laura, no, Lara, stared at him in shock.
"What did you do that for? That was beautiful, you could have sold that, that was excellent. In all my years in this profession I have never been painted that well, and you throw it away?"
Artemis turned back to the easel, his expression unmoving. "It wasn't good enough. I can do better."
Lara turned and stormed toward the door, furious with Artemis. It was only a job, but something else tugged at her mind here. He was torturing himself, destroying himself, from the inside out.
She stopped when she reached the door. "You know what?"
Artemis glanced up, and for a second, he looked her in the eyes, pleading her to stay.
"Maybe you expect too much from yourself, maybe you'll neve be good enough." With those words she turned and continued down the corridor.
Artemis dropped his head onto the new canvas and a single tear dropped onto the shining, white material. Never good enough.
