BURRIED IN THE HEART OF DARKNESS

pinned up in a neat bun, and my favorite black dress hugged my figure perfectly. For someone who usually spen

cted at the gallery in less than an hour. I let out a sigh and put my phone down. I still wasn't sure why I had agreed to this show in t

ul into this collection, and I was proud of every single piece. The problem was everything else: the exp

rcing myself to smile, even if it felt f

le gathering inside. The soft glow of the lights through the windows illuminated the faces of well-dres

mile. Her blonde hair was styled perfectly, and she wore a tailored black

quick hug. "Everyone's already talking about your pie

erves were still jang

I overheard snippets of conversation-words like "brilliant," "innovative," and "bold" floated through the air. It was fla

avorite piece, "is where you should stand. People

d. It was the kind of work that spoke to me on a visceral level. Whenever I looked at it, I felt tha

miled, shook hands, and answered questions about my process and inspiration, trying to stay grounded

ng to think I couldn't handle a

Mer

k suit was perfectly tailored, and he held a glass of champagne in one hand, looking completely at ease in the midst of the crowd. Th

oves and taking risks. His name was always in the headlines, whether it was for acquiring another company or atten

e. There was something about the way he looked at me-like he a

o much about it, he sta

oached. What could someone li

oothly, holding out his hand.

took his hand, feeling the firm grip of his handshake. "Th

is head slightly, as if studying it more closely. "You have a

lt different than the usual praise I received. His words carrie

I said carefully. "This

back to me. "You don't just paint for the

n was heading. "Art has always been my way

bout it. "I understand that. Expression is everything

eared at my side, practically glowing with excitement.

offering a polite smile. "I apprec

you've certainly come to the right place. Isabella is o

, and I felt a strange flutter

s pocket and pulled out a sleek business card. He hand

k further, Isabella. If you'r

and contact information. This was it-the kind of moment I had only dreamed about

," I said, trying to

ering look before turning

g in the air long after he disappeared into the crow

st happen?"

ng the business card in

my mind was elsewhere. Every time I looked down at the business card in my hand, I felt a strange mixture of excitement and fear. This was a once-in

d onto the couch, the silence of my apartment a welcome relief after the noise and chat

Mer

om me? And more importantl

had always dreamed of making it big, of having my art recognized by people who mattered. But no

able and picked up my phone. There was one perso