Malaguena PT. 1

Part 1

When the spotlight hits the main person on stage, no one is able to pay any attention to the people in the shadow. Their job is to make sure that the audience’s attention is on the main character or characters. Now, when two people are dancing, that’s a whole different story. These two people are basically fighting for the attention of the audience. They are pushing each other back and forth attempting to be the main one on stage and the one with all of the control, when, in reality, they have to work together to keep the audience’s attention. It may seem easy to keep all eyes on you, but it's the same thing as trying to keep a baby’s attention. You have to be doing something extraordinary and dramatic at all times before they get bored or distracted. These two characters are both extraordinary and all types of dramatic. You will see what I mean in a moment. First, let me tell you about the setting:

A bright blue sky covered by the dull grey clouds overcasting the city with heavy rain on a random Tuesday afternoon. The streets are abnormally empty for the great city of Los Angeles, but that’s just a side effect of the water that’s overflowing onto the sidewalks. On the corner of Hyde Park Blvd and Inglewood Avenue you’ll find one of our characters, in their studio apartment, painting a mural of a church located in southeast Spain.

They stroke their brush on the painting one last time and… “There.” Isato puts down the brush, quickly grabs their film camera and prepares to take a photo of it. They take about fifteen minutes attempting to get the lighting and position right and finally snaps the photo. They put the camera back down near the jar of unscanned film, grabs a painter’s brush, and begins to overlap the beautiful mural with white paint. Three layers of dry white later, they begin to sketch a new painting. This is a constant cycle. Sketch, paint, photo, white. Sketch, paint, photo, white. Every now and then they will go out to get more supplies, maybe get some groceries if needed, pick up the mail, but this is at most twice a month. They don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. Hell, they barely even sleep. They spend several hours painting when they can’t sleep. And they have several sleepless nights a week. This is due to the endless nightmares they have while they sleep. If it’s not them killing someone, it’s someone killing them. They don’t like dreaming these, especially because they seem realistic. Too realistic. So, to avoid dreaming, they paint and only sleep when it’s absolutely necessary.

As they’re about to begin painting over the beautiful sketch of a woman in an extravagant Mexican dress, their phone rings. 4 O’CLOCK - TIME FOR A BREAK. Isato lays down the brush on the table and begins to go into the kitchen, puts a cup of milk into the microwave for about a minute and a half, takes out a bowl from the cupboard, and brings down the cereal from the top of the refrigerator. They begin to pour the cereal into the bowl along with the warm milk. They grab their bowl and head towards the couch and turns on the TV. The screen read: OCTOBER 9TH - CAUCASIAN MAN FOUND GUILTY FOR MANSLAUGHTER.

They sat there staring at the television almost contemplating whether or not to change the channel or to keep on watching. Before they were able to make a decision, there was a knock on the door and not just any kind of knock. It was an annoying chimed knock that people usually do when they are too comfortable being around you. You know what I mean? Anyways, Isato knew exactly who it was. There are only two people in the city that are close enough to them to be knocking on their door like that. One they hadn’t seen her in weeks because she was too busy with her new girlfriend, the other was their landlord.

Isato turns off the TV and draggs themselves over to the door. As soon as they open it, they are pulled into an uncomfortable embrace, “”Isato! My ma- human...person…”

“What do you want from me, Luis?”

“Do I gotta want something to come visit my favorite tennant?”

Isato looks at him with a pointed look. Luis sighs and gives up his charade instantly, “Alright, I need to talk to you about something.” He lets himself in and goes straight to the couch where Isato was sitting before they were rudely interrupted. “You see, times are getting a little tougher and-”

“Wait, I think I’ve heard this before.” Isato states out of annoyance. “Can’t you find a more creative way to tell me that rent is going up?”

“What? You don’t like my inspirational speech?”

“How long do I have?”

“Til the end of the month.”

“And here I was thinking I had about two months before you came barging into my apartment.”

“Listen, I know it’s gonna be tough for you but I know you can do it. You’ve gotten through it before. It’s not even that much. Just $600 more.”

“$600 more for rent?! You’ve gotta be shitting me, Luis.”

“It’s getting tough for everyone out here, but you are one of the only tenants I have that has been able to keep up with this world and its unexpected changes. And if worse comes to worse, I know a few people who can room with you for a bit.”

“Oh yeah. I can just rent them out the balcony and I should be good.”

“Was that sarcasm? I can never tell with you.”

Isato led Luis to the door to let him out. “Alright, thanks for dropping by. I gotta get back to it.”

“Get back to what?”

“It.” They closed the door in his face and went back to painting. They picked up the brush, dipped it in the red mixture they created and began to paint over the sketch once again.

Painting and making art is what gets Isato through everything these days. It takes their mind off of the problems outside but, at the same time, it helps them think through everything. While painting, they give themselves time to put situations into perspective. Recently, the one problem they had was that they haven’t been able to see their best friend in a little over a month now. They text here and there but Isato prefers to see and hear her. She is the only person who they feel completely comfortable with. They have other friends but they can’t be 100% themselves because they don’t feel as if they would be accepted by them if they did. She was the only one who was able to get through the barrier that was built and well maintained for over nineteen years.

Isato met Bellamy in a stats class they had no business being in in their first year of college. She would watch them doodle through the whole class time because she was so intrigued with the way Isato’s mind worked and how they are able to put their thoughts onto a page. Most people use words to completely express themselves, not beautiful images that successfully let the audience know how the artist is feeling. And, as hard as she tried, she was never able to do that.

She did have an eye for art though. When she was younger, she would follow her dad everywhere, especially to work. At the time, her father was barely starting off as an art collector in Los Angeles and had just purchased a loft where he would be able to display art and host different types of exhibits. She would go with him to buy art and to help him set up exhibits. Anything that her father would do that involved art, she was there. Her father had become very impressed with how well she was at spotting good pieces throughout the years and eventually decided to make her a partner. At the age of seventeen she was making the artists and her father a small fortune with her great eye for art and remarkable marketing skills.

Though she was already making a living for herself and her family, her father still wanted her to get an education because he didn’t want her to be “uneducated and without a degree.” She either went to school or lost her role as her father’s business partner. At that point, she only had one choice. That first semester of university, she found herself in STATS101 and since the beginning of the class, she had not been able to pay attention to the professor because of the student who was always doodling during class.

After one of their last few classes for the semester, she got the courage to approach the student with the exceptional drawing skills. She told them about the gallery that she and her dad owned called Buena Suerte and told them that she believed that she would be able to sell their artwork in a heartbeat. Isato responded by saying, “I’m not an artist, though.”

“With those artskills of yours, you could have fooled me.”

Bellamy took out a post-it note and wrote down Buena Suerte’s number and told them to call if they ever changed their mind about being an artist. That night, Isato bought themselves their first canvas and art supplies and began their journey as an artist. They called the gallery as soon as they finished their first piece but was denied because of their inexperience. They were upset about it and decided not to paint again. Until Bellamy called them and told them, “It was just your first painting. It’s very rare to get something you want in your first try. You’ll only get better if you keep going.”

Bellamy took this to heart and kept making paintings and sending them in. It wasn’t until their fifteenth time submitting a painting to the gallery that it was finally accepted. It ended up selling for $150 in one of the shows. It’s not a lot for an artist but Isato saw it as a good start. After that, every now and then they would get one or two of their submissions accepted again and, slowly but surely, their commission would increase.

Isato jumps out of their thoughts when there was another knock on the door. They put down their brush and went to open the door. Standing on the other side of the door was their bestfriend Bellamy. She was dressed in all black and had tear streaks running down her face. They quickly pulled her into a strong embrace. They let her cry into their shoulder for a little bit before going back into the apartment. When they both got to the couch, Isato finally got the courage to ask what was wrong.

“My dad’s funeral just ended.”

“I didn’t even know your dad had passed. When did this happen?”

“Last week. I went to visit him so that we could talk about… things and when I walked in he had his head down on the piano. I thought he was just sleeping so I moved him a little to wake him but he collapsed to the floor. After that everything is just a blur.”

Isato was speechless. Literally no words. They had become really close with her father, Francis, over the past seven years. He taught them how to make art without second guessing every decision they had had to make when it came to their art. He believed in them so much. He was always telling them that their art is worth way more than they thought they were and that they should never sell themselves short. When they were still attending college, Francis and them would meet frequently. They would either grab a cup of coffee and talk about Art and the latest works Francis had crossed paths with or Isato would shadow him for the day at work to learn about what it takes to be successful in the world of art.

There is one day Isato always thinks about. They were about to turn 22. Francis offered to take them to a birthday lunch with Bellamy. They ate at this fancy restaurant in the heart of Los Angeles. Despite the fact that Isato had been living in LA for three years, they have never been to that part of LA. They always told themselves that they would go visit soon but it was never the right time. Now they’re there with the two people who have had a great influence in their life for the past three years.

After they had almost finished eating, Francis asked Isato if they have been working on any new projects.

“Yes, actually.” They took out their phone and showed him some of the photos they took before leaving their house that night.

“Wow. These are amazing.” with a monotone voice that only his family would know that he was seriously impressed.

“Thank you, sir.” They said with a smile.

“These are going to sell fast at the next Buena Suerte show.”

“You really think my work would go that quick?”

“Your work is amazing, kid. And I already got a few people in line for your next set of pieces.”

“Really?”

“Yah, and they’re willing to pay big money for your fine art.”

“Alright, I’ll have them over to you as soon as I can.”

“Great. Whenever you finish with your current project send it my way and I’ll have it in our next gallery show.”

That night, Isato stayed up until sunrise and got the project to Francis by 10 am the next morning. That same project was bought by one of Francis’ old friends for 2.5K. After that Isato was creating projects after projects and barely made time for anything else. Francis kept selling their art but after some time Isato became too busy to meet up with Francis and Francis wanted to keep them happy by selling their art.

“Iz?” Bellamy was snapping her fingers to bring them back to the present.

“Sorry… What happened to him?”

“Doctors say it was a heart attack caused by a medication he was taking, but my father wasn’t taking any medications. He is the healthiest person I know.

Isato was still staring off into space when Bellamy turned back to them. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…”

“Yah, sooner would’ve been nicer than now. If I had known sooner, I would have been able to pay my respects today. If I had known sooner, I could’ve grieved with you. We could’ve been there for eachother for the past week. You know what I did this past week? I spent every afternoon this week contemplating whether I should watch the news or a movie. I spent every morning painting random crap to sell at your father’s gallery. I could’ve been with you! You know how much he meant to me and you know how much you mean to me and you didn’t think to come to me?”

“I-,” she chuckled and stood up in disbelief. “Are you really making this about you right now? I just buried my father. MY father. Not yours! You have no right to tell me what I should’ve done and how I should be grieving. You hadn’t even spoken to him in over six months. Almost a year. You claim to care for him but don’t even know what was going on with him until now. Yah cause that makes perfect sense. You were just a charity case for him anyways.”

Isato stayed silent as Bellamy got up and left. They stayed on the couch, letting her words sink in until they got up and began painting again.