A struggling artist
Devlin Gallery, New York - 6 months later
Cole Devlin was interested, very interested. He knew a good thing when he saw it and he saw it in the young man standing in front of him. Given an opportunity, who knows, he could be the next Picasso or Rembrandt and it would have been Cole who discovered him. An artist like this could do a lot for Cole's business, yes, he was definitely interested.
"So, what do you think?" the young man asked, his voice filled with hope and something else, something Cole could not quite put his finger on.
"Well, let's just say that I'll give you a chance to exhibit some drawings." "How does that sound?" Cole asked, trying his best to keep his voice neutral.
"Um, great I suppose --- thanks for giving me a chance, I promise you won't regret it."
"We'll see, shall we" Cole hesitated slightly before he continued, "I'll have the documents drawn up and ready for you to sign by this afternoon."
Cole shook the young man's hand before he excited. For a fleeting moment he thought it strange that he had not seemed more excited, but soon forgot as he began thinking about the latest edition to his gallery's first exhibit -- - and the money it will bring them. Yes, this was a good move, a very good move, he congratulated himself silently before picking up the phone to arrange for the contract to be drawn up.
The young man felt comforted by the thought that he would at least have an income from now, he did not feel the way he had always thought he'd feel if something like this was to happen --- but then again, after what had happened, who could blame him? The part of him that felt joy, happiness and excitement was gone, in its place was left a dull, steady ache that never went away, not even in his dreams.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Opening Night, Devlin Gallery, New York
The turnout was better than Cole expected, his marketing gambit had paid off. He had succeeded in adequately launching the young man's career, and his own, he thought smiling as he greeted yet another of rich, socialite who had come to view the art.
He felt better than he thought he would, the pain had dulled slightly, just slightly, and living had become more bearable. As long as he could immerse himself in his art he would be able to survive. His thoughts were interrupted when someone called his name.
"Yes?" he answered in reply.
"I like your work, if I commissioned you to draw something, would you do?" the stranger continued, his voice expectant.
"Sure, I don't see why not"
"Good --- oh, and don't worry, money won't be a issue, I'll see to it that all your needs are being adequately met" the stranger told him, his voice filled with satisfaction.
Devlin Gallery, New York - 6 months later
Cole Devlin was interested, very interested. He knew a good thing when he saw it and he saw it in the young man standing in front of him. Given an opportunity, who knows, he could be the next Picasso or Rembrandt and it would have been Cole who discovered him. An artist like this could do a lot for Cole's business, yes, he was definitely interested.
"So, what do you think?" the young man asked, his voice filled with hope and something else, something Cole could not quite put his finger on.
"Well, let's just say that I'll give you a chance to exhibit some drawings." "How does that sound?" Cole asked, trying his best to keep his voice neutral.
"Um, great I suppose --- thanks for giving me a chance, I promise you won't regret it."
"We'll see, shall we" Cole hesitated slightly before he continued, "I'll have the documents drawn up and ready for you to sign by this afternoon."
Cole shook the young man's hand before he excited. For a fleeting moment he thought it strange that he had not seemed more excited, but soon forgot as he began thinking about the latest edition to his gallery's first exhibit -- - and the money it will bring them. Yes, this was a good move, a very good move, he congratulated himself silently before picking up the phone to arrange for the contract to be drawn up.
The young man felt comforted by the thought that he would at least have an income from now, he did not feel the way he had always thought he'd feel if something like this was to happen --- but then again, after what had happened, who could blame him? The part of him that felt joy, happiness and excitement was gone, in its place was left a dull, steady ache that never went away, not even in his dreams.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Opening Night, Devlin Gallery, New York
The turnout was better than Cole expected, his marketing gambit had paid off. He had succeeded in adequately launching the young man's career, and his own, he thought smiling as he greeted yet another of rich, socialite who had come to view the art.
He felt better than he thought he would, the pain had dulled slightly, just slightly, and living had become more bearable. As long as he could immerse himself in his art he would be able to survive. His thoughts were interrupted when someone called his name.
"Yes?" he answered in reply.
"I like your work, if I commissioned you to draw something, would you do?" the stranger continued, his voice expectant.
"Sure, I don't see why not"
"Good --- oh, and don't worry, money won't be a issue, I'll see to it that all your needs are being adequately met" the stranger told him, his voice filled with satisfaction.