Brushes with Immortality

chronicle_tenko

Just Idiot
Joined
Apr 7, 2006
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Marcus hated this part. The openings, where the canvases he painted were gawked at and judged. By eyes that barely knew how to avoid bad meat, but still thought they could tell true beauty. Eyes belonging to dimwitted rich crowds who cooed, and fussed over his paintings. Hardly because they liked him, but because you needed to collect artists that mattered. They called him the next Rembrandt. He wondered if they could tell the difference. these were eyes untrained enough that they could simply do what he was attempting to while he waited. Watch TV.

The TV blared.

That was all it ever did, he seemed to think. Was hoot, and make loud noises while more important things tried to happen. In this case it was reporting on the opening of his new gallery show. The one he was happily avoiding downstairs, to see his model for a last time. She was walking up teh stairs towards him. One foot in front of the other. Her dress barely on to start, and soon he'd make it pool on the floor. She was pretty, in that modern sense of the word. His agent certainly had thought she would sell, and that man seemed to be right. The oil painting of her half turned, was being auctioned now, for several hundred thousand. And the bidding was still slowly climbing, dollar by dollar. Tens of thousands at a time. His model was squealing softly, watching the proceedings. Though whether she was squealing from the excitement of her image garnering such a high price, or his hands slowly baring her body for the last time he wasn't sure. His fingers played with the soft skin of her arms as she fell back towards him. Her arm reaching up to grab his head, looping it behind his neck as she bent to pull him for a kiss. One he didn't respond to. His hands stopped before they touched the swell of her breasts.

"Who is that?"

For once the TV had something to show him. Something more intriguing than the standard fare. Even more interesting than the final meeting with his former model. His next model.

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Arturo Torres worked tirelessly for his best client. Marcus might have been infuriating, mercurial and whimsical, but he made money, and his eye for beauty, for the finding of feature and form, was second to none. He wanted this young man for his next paintings. And he'd have him. Marcus always did, no matter what the issues seemed to be. This last excursion had actually been Arturo's find, and profitable as it had been, Marcus' eye never lied. If he saw something people would adore it.

In this case however it was cheating slightly. Sebastian Lecavalier was already a top model. Used to the catwalk and the cooing and clawing of the clothing world, this would be not be the first time he posed for someone, there was even a list fee. For A day. Marcus wanted this young man for nearly a month. 8 hours or more every day, to stand and simply pose. Nothing new for the young man, but certainly for his agency it was. Their fee was impossible, 30 days of modeling was close to 150,000 dollars. The Last show was more than profitable enough to cover it, but the studios would scream bloody murder if he tried to push that through. Still, the publicity of the fee, and the intense natures of both men. Not to mention Marcus passion for nude Oils. This would not be the first time he had painted men. But it would certainly be the first one since he became the artist he was now. Known worldwide. Rembrandt Re-incarnate. Especially with how often his pictures were picked up by periodicals. Reproductions of his faces went everywhere.

Arturo smiled as he began to cut a check. He trusted Marcus. This would go over well.

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Marcus twirled a brush over his fingers. Idly watching the blank canvas with a picture of Sebastian's face on it. The high cheekbones. That smooth prominent chin. He was a picture of classic beauty. In his vision the lines began to form, crisp cut, and simple, the way everything began in his creation. The soft simple branch of straight lines to curves, like a river, flowing to a thousands trickles the explosion of simplicity that makes the complex. The perfect, the over lapping thread that when unwound is a single strand. But together, taken together is the muscles, blood, and skin. The fire and form, that makes man.

Marcus stopped looking, those eyes that didn't blink still staring from the center of the page. He stood and took a small step then another, carefully adjusting his pants so he would not chafe, until he could take the picture down. It was not the same. It made him unhappy, and he would remain so until the young man was here. In his studio, under his brush. Naked and waiting for his own release. To be transmitted to immortality on oiled canvas. The thought made him smile as he applied a brush stroke to the canvas and left it. The first touch of many.
 
The photo shoot in the woods had lasted longer than he had anticipated. Hanging upside down on trees and climbing their trunks was not his favorite activity. After five grueling hours of trying every imaginable pose suggested by the photographer, Sebastian was spent. At least for the day, he was physically and mentally exhausted. Not to mention slightly bruised. But it was his job. He didn't mind. It was what he did, day in and day out. No questions asked. No complaints. There were good days and bad days. Today had been somewhere in between. The trees had provided some relief from the heat but he was ready to pack up and go home. Even though he was their golden boy, the contract that he had currently signed with his agency still needed to be adhered to. That meant posing whenever they needed him, for however long they wished. At least for now, he was at their disposal. Breathing a sigh of relief, he brushed off the remaining twigs and leafs stuck to his body, while remembering he had the next entire month and a half off. A smile swept across his face. He was very glad for the time he was going to have to himself. Just as he was getting into his car, the cell phone rang. It was Eileen. He wondered what the lady had in store for him now. A sweetheart with sharp business acumen and an even sharper tongue when required. She had landed him some of the best contracts ever since she took over from his previous agent. She had been a tremendous mentor as well, whenever she could. He had blossomed under her guidance and had specially requested the agency to keep their relationship intact, in case they had any other ideas.

"...He wants to do what? ... Yes, I know who that is...But what about my scheduled...? I need some time to think...Can I call you back...An hour? Okay, fine...Yes, I will think about it."

He hung up the phone, slightly surprised, a bit annoyed, but more intrigued. Switching on the radio, he accelerated and drove off, thinking about what he was going to do now. His vacation plans would be ruined if he accepted the offer. They weren't going to force him of course. Not now. He deserved this, especially after having almost no time off for the past several months.

He had certainly heard the name, but had never had the opportunity to talk to the man who everyone was indicating to be the next great painter of all times. Their paths had never crossed. He was world famous. And he wanted to put him on his canvas. Sebastian had not posed for an artist in a while now. Not since becoming the top model he was today. The camera's eye had replaced the human eye, shooting him into stardom. It didn't happen overnight though. He had worked hard to get to this position. To become the phenomenon he had turned into. And it hadn't been a fairy tale, where he was waiting in a line, or working out at a gym to be magically spotted by a talent scout one fine day and hired to be the next super model for their agency the next morning. He had definitely waited in lines. Long, tedious ones. But there had been no magic. Not until he had to wade through the thorns. Just hard work and patience, along with some luck of course. Sure, the face and his bone structure was a gift from the creator. But the maintenance and upkeep was no mean task. There were few males in the modeling world, compared to female models, which were as successful and well known as Sebastian Lecavalier. It is not always easy being successful. He adored and reveled in all the attention that was constantly being showered over him. The pay certainly helped too. He got to travel to various destinations around the world. Life was all that he had once imagined and more. But with success comes pressure. The stress occasionally got to him, followed by brief periods of depression. But overall, he had handled it quite well so far at such a young age. Like any other job, it had the inconveniences, but the advantages far outweighed them. Sebastian pulled into the secured garage of his penthouse, turned off the ignition and just sat there for a while, pondering. Then he turned off the radio, grabbed his phone and dialed Eileen's cell number.

"Hey...Yes....Alright, I can meet you for lunch tomorrow. We'll talk about it then. No promises though. Okay...see you."

This new prospect looked interesting. He had always had a fascination for oil paintings. Any kind of paintings for that matter. They were sincere. A product of the artist's skill and imagination combined. There was no technology involved, no gimmicks required, no artificiality about them. It wasn't just a mirror image of your own self, even though in a sense it was supposed to be. But it was sincere. And desired to be displayed on canvas by such a renowned person was no small honor. Even for a star like him. But even though he was neither gifted nor trained to judge artists, he did understand and appreciate art somewhat more than most of the people around him. And the art that Marcus produced, from whatever he had seen so far, was exquisite. He was slightly skeptical, however, as to why Marcus had chosen him. Yes, he was famous. Yes, he had the classic face, with stunning features and a sculpted form that fashion moguls, photographers, and artists all over the globe craved for in a male model. But almost all of Marcus' work that he had seen had women as models. Was he looking to diversify his portfolio? Well in that case, he thought, what better way to expand it than acquire today's most in-demand male super model?
 
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