beth / show me your colors

[braxton elijah st james]

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braxton wasn't sure he was even going to get any recognition for his work lately, but he'd decided to follow through with the requests of the pretty, dark haired girl with the flashy engagement ring on her finger. elizabeth, was her name - at least he assumed it was by what she had told him. but his memory had not been holding up, and he'd found his attention drifting when she had been around. she'd pestered him about it enough that he thought he might as well break down his barriers and allow his work to go on display in the gallery that evening. he was sure that the reception wasn't going to be as good as she had assumed, and that he'd never sell a piece at all, but he'd taken his chance and had selected a few of his more sullen pieces to place in the gallery for judgement. he found himself standing before a mirror in the hall of his studio, adjusting the tie around his neck, balancing a crystal glass of scotch in one hand, and a cigarette dangling from his fingers in the other. he probably reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, the smell of acrylic paints and charcoal usually always permeated from his presence, but tonight he'd managed to douse that smell away with a good spray of cologne. his hair was still ruffled mess on top of his head, and his blue eyes scanned over himself briefly in the mirror as he smoothed out the jacket, and his shirt beneath it, straightened the belt, and slid his feet into a pair of highly polished black shoes, that he'd bought for this particular occasion. everything else was mostly spattered with paint, finally, he was ready to go.

he'd ditched his run down car around the corner of the gallery and decided to make the short walk to the building. after showing his ID to the security at the doors, he was escorted inside, was promptly handed a glass of champagne and was left to his own means. an exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he wandered around the venue. his pieces definitely stood out, dark in contrast to the white walls that lined the gallery. people were milling about, chatting quietly about different pieces, still no one realized that he was in fact the artist, and he would have kept it that way if it was even possible. a flash of dark hair, and the sound of a laugh caught his attention from the other side of the room, and he found himself wandering towards it. while he may not have cared much for her, given the chance to speak to someone he knew even slightly, was something that cheered him up, at least a moment.

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[elizabeth odette cunningham]

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Tilting the last painting so it was squared with the others, Elizabeth took a step back, making sure it was really lined up equally with the rest. This was Elizabeth's first gallery showing. She hadn't been in town long, however she had managed to gain a good job and the respect of her colleges. Everyone told her she had an eye for the arts, however she never seemed as sure of herself as everyone else around her.

Elizabeth had been working all day to set up the gallery staring five artist from around two. This was her bosses way of testing her to see if she really fit the job. A week after Elizabeth got the job she was granted some files of the different artist around towns. Inside it held images of painting and a small bio of each artist, from it she picked out her five. Some were easier to convince than others, to put their art up for the night, however in the end she was able to feature all of her favorites, showing off both her taste and eye for different types of art.

Standing in the gallery bathroom, Elizabeth looked into the tiny mirror, trying to see as much of her dress as possible. It was a short black number with long sleeve and a low cut neck. It was really impossible to see anything in such a small space. In the end Elizabeth finally gave up and headed out of the bathroom, hoping that everything looked okay. After a long day setting up the gallery, Elizabeth had really hoped she would be able to run home for a shower, but that wasn't in the cards. Instead she had her fiance bring over her dress before he headed out for some late meeting. It upset her that he wouldn't be able to attend tonight's event, but it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Although he had full belief in her success, Elizabeth always felt like she would would end up failing in his eyes.

As the people started to file in and the night started to swing into gear, it was clear that all of Elizabeth's worrying was for nothing. Everyone was having a good time and a few pieces had even sold in the first twenty minutes. By now Elizabeth had had a glass of champagne and was speaking to an artist from out of town. Laughing at the end of one of his jokes, Elizabeth started to search for another glass of champagne floating in the air, to her luck none of the waiters were around. It was probably for the best, she didn't need to be drinking while working, however she couldn't help but feel the need for it. Just as Elizabeth was about to finish her scan of the room, her eyes laid on a sharp dressed man. Shaking her head she was a bit stunned to realize it was Braxton, one of her featured artist. He was making his way to her, so excusing herself from the man she had been speaking to, Elizabeth started to head toward the man, meeting him a little less than half way, "Nice to see you can clean up good. To be honest I was a bit worried you would show up half drunk and smelling like cigarette's." Smiling lightly, Elizabeth nodded to her boss as she passed by. She hadn't meant to come off so rude to one of her featured artist, however he wasn't her favorite when it came to personalities.
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brax (jenners), outfit, 602 words, sorry its horrible

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credit to TONY

[braxton elijah st james]

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her dress left little to the imagination, thus his eyes traveled easily over the length of her body. the curve of her hips that filled out the dress nicely, her thin waist that brought his eyes immediately up to the low cut top of the dress and the cleavage that stayed in view for him. a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he glanced over her once more, trailing his eyes over her long, lengthy legs that seemed to go on forever. she seemed confident and strong right here in the middle of her element. while brax felt as though he was playing a game of dress up, making himself appear as smart as he possibly could, while inside his stomach was churning and he was gasping for a drink of something with a little more substance than the bubbly golden liquid that filled the glass, he held poised in his hand. his fingers slid around the stem of the glass as his eyes were drawn up to the plump lips that moved graciously as she spoke. a smirk, tugged easily at the corners of his lips and his icy blue eyes met hers at last. and whose to say i'm not drunk? he asked casually, draining the contents of his glass with a small smirk. he patted down the pocket of his jacket for his cigarettes, making sure he definitely had them on him, before he turned his attention back to her. just because i clean up well, and don't smell of cigarettes and alcohol, doesn't mean i haven't smoked like a chimney, and drunk my weight in scotch. he leaned in closer to her, a small grin spreading over his lips as he stepped past her to set his glass down on a passing tray. he stood close to her, he could feel the warmth of her body, and could read the distaste in her features as she eyed him off.

so i take it your boss is happy with the selection you've managed to obtain for the evening. he murmured as his eyes traveled around the room, before once more finding their way back to her. his head tilted a moment have you sold anything? of course, he was asking more about his own work than anyone elses, even though he highly doubted any of his pieces would sell. the depressing, dark scenes of deep colors smeared over scenes of beauty really wasn't to everyone's taste. his work was unique in it's own way, speaking in multitude of the emotional strain his life had bared down upon him. the effect of the alcohol, and drugs in his system had reflected in such a miss-mash of work. some of it didn't even seem to work with a theme, and in some cases the work seemed like a completely different artist. but it was all him. his eyes traveled down to rest on her hand, eying the ring a moment before his eyes shifted back to her face. where is he? he began your fiance.

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[elizabeth odette cunningham]

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To be honest, he had cleaned up quiet well. Elizabeth had half expected him to show up in ripped up jeans, splattered in paint, just to tick her off. Although the two had been polite, mostly because this was more about her job than anything else, Elizabeth didn't care for the man and she didn't try to hide it. He often came off arrogant and smug, at least in her opinion. It had taken a short while to convince him that his work should be displayed and to be truthful, if he had been any other artist, she probably wouldn't have waisted her time. However, Braxton's art was that of truth. It was clear that none of his lines were deliberate in a way most artist intended. It was a blend of real emotion and art, a rare find, even if it was dark. Her fiance had warned her that presenting such an artist for her first showing was costly, however she didn't care, she knew there was something in his art that was real, even if it was hard to see in the artist himself.

Narrowing her eyes as a smirk joined the mans face and icy blue eyes, it took an inner battle not to roll them, "Well, even if you are drunk, at least your not falling all over the place, which is all I can ask for at this point." Just then the man before him finished his glass of champagne, as if to defy her, one of the many things she disliked about the man, his carelessness for others. "Like I said, as long as your not stumbling your way through the building I'm good. However, that is not an invitation for you to make an ass out of anyone tonight. I get you probably drank yourself silly all day, but please just make sure that you stay at your current state for the rest of the night. I don't need my first showing to end with a live performance art that could be called, 'the insides of a dark man.'" Taking a step back as Braxton moved closer, she looked away as he moved to put his, now empty, glass on a tray walking by.

"Yes, she is extremely happy with the turn out. She was never really worried about my eye for art, apparently I was the only one with that fear." Following his eyes around the room, Elizabeth took a moment to take in what she had accomplished. It was a well put together show with a wide verity of styles. So many people thought she did all of the work, however Elizabeth had her artist to thank for tonight, even if that meant Braxton would need to be thanked as well. "I have, three." Giving a small smile, that was where she was leaving that subject for the moment. Although she knew what he was really asking, she wasn't about to tell him that two of the three had been his.

As Braxtons next words filled her ears, Elizabeth's eyes dropped to the ring on her left hand. Sliding her hands behind her back she swallowed lightly, "He had other things to attend to tonight and couldn't make it. However, he was able to stop by long enough to make a purchase, one of yours to be exact. Not really his taste, but he knew it was my favorite, so he couldn't really tell me no."
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brax (jenners), outfit, 596 words, <3

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credit to TONY

[braxton elijah st james]

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ah, but sweetheart, i'm more than capable of handling my alcohol. he added slyly, his eyes traveling around the room a moment, before his hand fell onto her upper arm, fingers closing around it a moment as he guided her away from the center of the room towards some of the pieces on the wall - his to be exact. so why do you work in a gallery, miss elizabeth? he asked lightly, his eyes traveling down over her face a moment, while he reached out to grab another glass of champagne, a teasing smile curling his lips as he took a deep sip from it. compared to some of the other more bright pieces in the room, the one he stood in front of showed the image of a shadowy figure, in an equally dark setting. smudged lines of light spread around the figure and a smokey effect spread around it. smears of blood red splashed in amongst the blacks, whites and greys, and created almost an evil, intimidating appeal. he gazed at the piece a while, his brows furrowing gently as he admired it. what piece is your favorite then? he asked lightly, his voice was slightly hoarse as he angled his body towards hers, watching over her face softly. it seemed to him, that she was almost like a princess to her fiance, who seemed willing to buy her happiness no matter what it took. when it came to braxton, and girls, he wasn't the type to lavish them in gifts, as much as he was the romantic type, he didn't tend to push himself on girls in a way that made it seem like money was the only way he was going to be able to win their affections. women usually fell for his looks, and the broody charm and confidence that seemed to resonate from him. he figured elizabeth wasn't going to be one of those girls, enthralled by his good looks, or taken by that broody charm of his. she seemed more disgusted in the man that stood before her instead.

this piece.. the one that he was looking at with her at the current moment this one reflects some of my experiences in ireland. he licked his lips as he glanced back at her, his brow raising softly i spent many a night on the streets of dublin, dabbling in narcotics and alcohol, i had barely a penny in my pocket, and was struggling to even make it through the nights. this was in winter, you see... i had the clothes on my back, and the nights were freezing cold. mostly, i found myself in an alleyway, and slept on the doorsteps of a few different town houses down the street... he glanced back at the painting cigarettes and alcohol kept me warm, and dublin isn't a safe place late at night.. there were fights. tipping his neck to the side quietly a moment, he drew his finger down the length of a scar on the underside of his chin. and a lot of blood lost. he looked back at her, his shoulders raising and dropping in a light shrug this is that story. he motioned towards the painting, before he tossed back the rest of the champagne, his brow furrowed.

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[elizabeth odette cunningham]

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"Please don't call me sweetheart and lets hope so, yes?" nodding lightly to show she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Something she wish she hadn't the moment his hand touched her arm. Just as she was about to yank it away, she realized it was only to lead her from the middle of the room, to stand in front of his paintings, the one her fiance had bought hours ago. Turning to face it, she rested her eyes on the dark colors, distracting herself away from him, with the art before her. "To show the world the art that would other wise be locked behind doors, by their artist in fear that they would be rejected." Glancing over at Braxton, they rested there for a long moment, before returning to the painting. "After all, that would be your art if it wasn't for me, right?" She had no doubt that Braxton wouldn't share his gift to the world if there hadn't been someone to push him. It was clear to her that he felt his art was to dark for people to understand, however that the man didn't understand himself, was that people had dark parts of themselves, even if they never experienced anything tragic. "Well if we are being honest, this one." Nodding at the art, Elizabeth turned slightly to face Braxton. "It tells a story, a different one to everyone in this room, however a story that ends the same way. I like the smudged colors and light touches of red, popping in a dark fashion that is not used on any other painting in this room. Most people would use the color on purpose, to draw people into the paining, however i can tell that was not the purpose with this one. It was used more of the meaning, than to gain any resignation from the viewer." Elizabeth wasn't stupid, she knew many people looked at her and at a first glance assumed she was a snotty princess who was given more money by her fiance than brains by god, however that just wasn't the case. "I'm sorry if I disappoint you tonight, however I'm not as naive as I'm sure you and everyone else in this room have come to believe." Turning her head way, Elizabeth quickly mumbled something about her fiances judgment on her, but it was to faint to be picked up by anyone around her, even Braxton, which was the intention.

Listening to the story about the piece which was now hers, she had to admit, it wasn't fully what she had expected, however art was meant to tell a different story to every person who viewed it, even if there was only one true story behind the masterpiece. In this case, there was no way for anyone to know the true nature of the painting, without knowing the history of the man that stood beside her. Glancing at the mans neck as he showed a scare, her mind kind of slipped out of her body, taking her to another place and before she knew what she was say, "I'd die for an experience like that", and in that moment Elizabeth's checks grew bright red. It sounded sick, morbid even, but it was the truth. She had been so sheltered her whole life, molded into this perfect person. She was someone everyone could count on, someone everyone had such high expectations for and it was so exhausting ninety percent of the time. There were so many time she wished she could switch roles with a lonely person, just so she could be the only person who expected anything from her.
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brax (jenners), outfit, 624 words, sorry its horrible

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credit to TONY