He held the sheet of paper with the address in one hand, checking it every five steps he took down the quiet street. His friends had told him that the dude was the best there is, practically a genius, and that he would learn right away. He needed art classes, since his art skills were practically non-existent. There wasnīt really a mayor reason for learning the basics of art, though. It just was something that he needed to do for himself, something to pass the summer time, something that might be useful someday when he felt the urge of painting something for someone special. It should be an interesting experience. On his other hand was a sketch pad, in case the tutor needed some references on how advanced where his skills. He read the number on the old building, checking about three times to assume it was the same that was scribbled on the wrinkled sheet of paper, in Tereziīs lousy hand writing. He took the liberty of ringing a doorbell, looking up as he did so. The building had 4 stories. A man opened the door quickly, looking at the brown haired teenager up and down.
-Yes? - He asked with a harsh tired voice, taking a fast lick at his own chapped lips.
-Uh… hi. I, uh, Iīm looking for an… art gallery? - He said timidly, barely looking into the eyes of the fat old man. The man moved to one side, motioning him to go inside and go up the stairs.
-Art classes, huh? - He asked with little interest, jingling his set of keys. -4th floor. Second door to the right. The number is 15. - He said finally, closing the door behind the young man, taking a seat on a dirty looking chair.
-oh… okay.- He mumbled, making his way up to the desired room, giving the man a shy grateful smile that the other welcomed with a nod and pursed lips. He found the number with little problem, hearing a number of different noises as he went up and looked over the chocolate doors. Kids playing and yelling, a young couple fighting, a little dog barking, and he assumed the art teacher lived there as well, since it was an apartment complex, and taught the students on his living room or something. He knocked on the door, hearing a female voice telling him to come inside. He did so, searching with his eyes the woman that had spoken to him, finding that there were at least 4 women and men scattered around the surprisingly big room, painting on canvass, their hands all covered with a number of bright colors. He smiled forcefully, giving that they all looked at his new face, and soon he was greeted by the teacher himself.
-Hey! Iīve never seen you before. Came for some art, little dude? - His husky voice startled him a bit, making him look directly into the manīs deep blue eyes. He felt his stomach do a flip.
-I… uh, mhh, y-yes.- He stuttered, trying to tear apart his eyes from the handsome face that looked at him amused, his eyes and white skin being the things that were hardest to stop looking at. –I mean… uh, well, Iīm looking for…- he took a quick look at the paper on his hand. –G-Gamzee Makara? - He said, obviously sure that he was already talking to him.
-Right here, man. - He said merrily, pointing at himself.
-Oh… okay. Well, I need, uh, to take classes…-
-Donīt say no more, bro, Iīm your man.- Gamzee grabbed one of the teenagerīs shoulder, squeezing it a friendly manner, guiding him to a more private place in his studio. –So, tell me, you came to learn something in particular? Maybe a certain technique or something? Them little fuckers can be tough to learn, tell me about it, but I can do miracles for you if you wanna master them and shit. - The younger man looked over the colorful walls, the pieces of cloth hanging from them, their colors getting him a little dizzy when he noticed a subtle smell of smoke that was certainly not Tabaco. They got to a little room that the teacher used as an office for his paper work and more serious things, and he closed the door, inviting him to take a seat on a dark red wooded chair. –Talk to me bro, I ainīt very good at reading minds.- he winked playfully, and the brown haired teenager couldnīt help but get a subtle blush all over his cheeks.
-Huh? Oh! I, well, just want to take, uh, classes…- he explained, knowing that was pretty basic and general. –I want to… learn to draw… and paint, maybe…- he was looking at the walls again, noticing there were some incredibly beautiful portraits on them. He wondered if the teacher had made them.
-Oh! I feel you, bro. Came for the basics of basics, huh? - The boy nodded. –Cool. Might as well start now, little bro. - he handed him a sheet of paper, and the boy read it was some sort of schedule. –On the back are the prices and shit. I donīt charge too much, donīt like ripping off my students. We can talk about that later though, now we have art to make. - He grabbed him the arm, pulling him to go back to the studio and start with the classes as soon as possible. The boy smiled at how passionate he seemed to be about his job. –oh shit, whatīs your name? - He asked suddenly, a dopily smile covering his lips.
-Mine? Tavros…- He responded.
-Beautiful name. - He commented, guiding his new student to a table in the studio to by his side, the rest of his students watching him from the corner of their eyes curiously. –Now, show me what you got. - He told him, putting an arm on the table to let his chin rest on his hand, watching him closely.
-You mean… okay… I brought I sketch pad…- He opened his little sketch book, letting the teacher take a hold of it and look at it closely with judging eyes. He went through the pages slowly, taking his time to take in the details, staying quiet for few minutes.
-You like anime, huh? - He said amused, looking up from the sketch book, watching as Tavros nodded a little bit embarrassed. The pages were covered in doodles from some kind of Asian animated series. –This ainīt so bad. - He added, putting the doodles in front of Tavros. –But you see here? The proportion here ainīt right. Thatīs where you gotta start improving. - He pointed with a finger at a young boy sketch in pencil, his arms a little too long for his body. –Here. - He turned the pages until he got to a clean one. –sketch something for me. Iīll walk you through. - He leaned closer to Tavros, putting a pencil in his hands, watching the page. The boy obeyed, doodling a character from his favorite anime Fiduspawn, listening to the Gamzee give him instructions when he got stuck on some part of the characterīs anatomy that he seemed to not be able to draw accurately.
Gamzee let Tavros work on his sketches while he checked on the rest of the students, telling them a few advises as well. He had just a few students working in his studio, mainly because he didnīt take in just anyone. He had a sharp eye for talent and potential, and had taken the personal enterprise of getting complete real artist out of these unknown people. He looked over to the table where the new one was sitting, getting distracted for a bit by the way he bent over the little book, concentrated, sticking his tongue out. He smiled out of how cute that was, hearing suddenly how one of his students cleared their throats.
-You were saying? - He asked looking over at Gamzeeīs confused face.
-What was I saying?-
-The yellow. You were saying that I was using too much yellow, and told me too…- He motioned with his hands to make him understand he had stopped there, not giving him a full answer.
-Oh! Sorry, motherfucker. - His student rolled his eyes, not letting him see. He had always gotten distracted easily.
Tavros got to his apartment, noticing his roommate had not arrived yet. He lived with his best friend, a young Asian girl named Aradia. They split the rent in half. He kicked off his shoes, throwing himself on top of the bed along with the things he was carrying, sighing tiredly and hot. He could tell the summer was already arriving. He had just graduated from high school a few weeks ago, and had his mind off from college for the moment. He wanted to spend his summer working somewhere, not caring for his studies for a while: He had already finished with the endless cycle of elementary, middle and high school, and just needed some time off to think over his future plans. He moved his hand and noticed his sketch pad resting there, and opened it to look at the sketches he had made that day at the studio, on his first day. He compared them with older ones, and actually saw a difference: The advises the black haired man had given him were very useful. He smiled to himself, feeling pride rising inside his chest. He felt as if his new approaches on anatomy were perfect, and wanted to share them with Aradia as soon as she got there. He pursed his lips, wondering if she would arrive any time soon. God, she was so unpredictable. He yawned loudly, thinking he needed to get something to eat inside of him before passing out on the bed. He glanced over at the general direction of the kitchen, groaning. He was already comfortable. He let the little sketch book on his night table, letting his cell phone sit on top of it. He made a mental note to call Terezi once he woke up, to thank her for recommending him the eccentric art teacher. He dwelled on this thought a little longer, letting himself go over his first class in his mind. The way the good art filled the walls, the way those people were so focused on capturing their imagination on those canvases, the way the good looking teacher kept an eye on him just in case he needed help. He closed him eyes, biting his bottom lip, thinking just how lucky he was: Cheap, but extremely good art classes imparted by a hottie. A totally sweet deal he could handle just right. He laughed softly, shaking his head, mentally hitting himself for thinking such things. It was obviously mean to be platonic; unrequited, if it ever went too far. He sighed, trying to get more comfortable, wanting to fall asleep quickly, and stop thinking stupidities. But the young man wasnīt planning on leaving his thoughts for a while.