5 years later
I looked over my shoulder, and out the window with a loud groan. It was beautiful out, the sun was shining brightly. The floral buds on the trees were peeking out and their soft pink and white petals were delicate enough to waive with the slightest gust of wind, and the sky was the brightest blue it had been in ages.
The few weeks of rain were finally starting to look up, yet, I was here stuck inside.
On days where it was pouring it was easy to become absorbed. But on days like today, it was hard to stay here, inside, hunched over my work. I sighed and put down my inking pen, rubbing my thumb across the stains that covered all of my fingers. I stretched out my kinked back muscles that ached heavily from stooping forward, after hours of work, trying hard to push through the pain that occurred when I did so. The pain had built up from the ceaseless hours of back-bending work.
Far more hours than my job ever permitted. Because it wasn’t just my work. It was the great and ever-talented Mr. Lee’s work too. And Mr. Lee never did that work, all that line work for the past five years had been done by me, not him. All he “The highly acclaimed artist” ever did was sit down and roughly sketch out bases for me, which I would have to go and turn into actual real drawings.
It was beyond aggravating.
But there was nothing I could do about it.
After moving here, and being taken under the notoriously famous artist wing. I thought I would learn and study, maybe even become well known myself.
I thought I would get co-name recognition and that his spotlight would warm and color the people around him... Like me. I had a pipe dream. That somehow I too could be famous for my work.
I had this impression when we met that he was the sweetest, kindest, and wonderful old man for taking in someone who was completely unaware of what this world entailed. Someone who was fresh from moving to a different country and changing careers completely.
It had never occurred to me, that it was a trap. A sickly sweet bunny trap, and I had become the most recent unwitting victim, for no doubt there had probably been many others before me. How could there not have been? He seemed so natural, you didn’t even know you had been swindled till it was already done.
That’s how this miserable existence had started. Part of me felt utterly ashamed. ‘If you could see me now Ryan what would you think?’ I mused.
“Mina!”
I looked up at my name.
“Yes, Mr. Lee,” I answered loudly putting on my best chipper smile.
Yet inside I quietly seethed, my head started to pinch in the nerves above the bridge of my nose with built-up frustration the way it so often did now, a dull ache that never seemed to end.
“Can you go pick up my niece from the airport. It’s almost time for her plane to land.” He called his voice growing closer as he walked in from his work studio and closed the door. He clasped his hands behind the back as he always did when he was about to be cunning. It made him look simple, innocent, gentle, he was a small man who from afar wore a modest wardrobe of khaki pants and blue short-sleeved blouse. But if one were to look closer you would see the quality was very high, good enough that it was very noticeable he could afford to pay me more... And didn’t.
“Ahhhh....” I hesitated, not wanting to say yes, but not sure how to say... Ummm, nope, not happening. ‘That’s not my job... Don’t pretend you don’t know that’s not my job.’ I thought and opened my mouth to politely say so.
He broke into a smile, and held up a hand at me innocently, charmingly, halting me from my words. His dark almond eyes and gray-brown hair sparkled enchantingly as if he were about to present to me a great secret of massive importance.
For an old man, he was handsome, and some would say that the glint you saw was an enchanting charisma.
Personally, he was sneaky, rude, and manipulative. But oh, he hid it well behind a facade of kindness and accolades. Accolades that were normally accomplished and earned through someone else’s hard work.
Or at least that was the kinda stuff I had seen him do over the past five years.
“Oh, did you finish the sketch work I gave you on Friday?” He asked sweetly.
I gritted my teeth not knowing where he was going with this.
‘You know full well I did both yours and mine and almost didn’t sleep to get it handed in on time yesterday. And now that I want to finally get to clearing space and working on my own ideas again, now you want me to do something else. You are always hindering my work.’ I thought, gritting my teeth behind the smile.
“Yes, everything was handed in properly, it turned out well.”
“And how did they like the final panels?” He asked, smiling.
“They liked the final chapters a lot, Mr. Lee. They said it was a satisfying ending to the project.”
His eyes twinkled.
“So, you are free... Not doing anything?... Since you handed in all the panels...” He continued slowly.
I froze, realizing how I had walked into his trap again. I couldn’t very well say I wanted to clean up my workspace and work on my stuff as he had made the rules here clear, projects are for when I was at home. I knew the rules, no personal projects in my own workspace, I was free to work on any other projects, but only in the comfort of my home. But he never really let me go home. It was a cycle he controlled and he knew it. An artist could only be recognized for work they put their name on, and as long as I couldn’t put my name on my work and release something to the public, the longer I needed this job, and he could use me for whatever he needed. So despite the rule, this was the only place I could work, as I was always here, off running errands or doing work... FOR HIM!
“Good.” He said. “I have to work on the secret project and hand it in this afternoon. If you are not busy... And you did just finish, right?”
I nodded reluctantly as there was no way I could undo what I had just admitted.
“Good, good, then you go pick her up. I have that secret project and you have nothing.” And then as if we settled it, he walked into his studio and closed the door. And he had closed the door the way he did when no one could enter the room again.
I slumped to the floor and sighed. ‘Seriously! Again! I had been suckered in by his devious twisting words again?’
‘How am I always, always doing this?’ I grabbed my purse and my car keys from off the desk beside the front door. looked back at my desk and the top drawer with a wanton wish in my soul that I had never taken on this job. Because maybe then my own special, secret project wouldn’t be hiding away on a laptop in a drawer but instead out seeing the bright world and gaining love, but reality left me with my sad choices and I walked out the front door forlornly.
Having a say in your own matters was only for the rich and famous. Everyone else had to slave away against the odds.
I may be sitting here feeling forgot, but all of your posts still mean a lot. So keep on writing and commenting below, I'll see you down there, and try not to reply to slow.
>.<
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