Chapter five

Eugene Ari Darian's POV

It's been a while since my mother's last visit. I was expecting her to show up a lot sooner but I guess I hurt her feelings during our last meet but I wasn't ashamed to admit I wasn't sorry. She just doesn't know when to stop. I've always imagined her getting on the nerves of the gods over at Mount Olympus. But then again, they were all annoying over there, at least that's what history says. I can never be too sure but seeing my mother, I'd agree with them.

Three weeks ago, I had that incident with the coffee lady. I didn't get the chance to catch her name. I have no idea what got into me, I never imagined my first real human encounter to happen that way. It never occurred to me that my blunt honesty could hurt her feelings. I felt really stupid for a guy who has lived hundreds of years. I was supposed to be mature and open. I had to accept not everyone was like me. If only I realized this sooner, maybe I wouldn't have embarrassed myself and her.

I was back in my studio, drowning my sorrows in the paint like every other day. I had mastered the art of painting so well I could do it with my eyes closed. It was a talent I was born with as each god had a gift. My mother's being beautiful. She was the prettiest god you could ever find. On days we went out, we got stares, and though I consider myself quite the looker, most were going at her. Again, the attention we were trying so hard to avoid was thrown freely at us. We had to minimize our outings to the minimum. Something I enjoyed was gradually taken from me.

The routine was getting boring. But I couldn't do anything about it. Paint is the only stable thing I have had all my life.

Finally adding finishing touches, I placed the canvas directly to the rays of the sun before I grabbed a washcloth and dried my hands. Dark brown eyes stared at my olive hand, the tiny source of happiness I got every day came there. The perfect little drawings were made by those hands. It kinda felt surreal and I liked it.

My attention was drawn to the windows as I watched mortals go about their daily activities. By the left was the baker's shop with the baker yelling at his apprentice, probably for burning bread again. His face flamed up and his temper snapped. I had no idea why he still kept him around, the guy was a lost cause. There was no teaching that imbecile.

Shaking my head, I turned my face to the other side where a new ice cream shop just opened up. The front door was filled with homeless kids who wanted ice cream but the owner was a major witch, chasing the kids with an egg mixer. She looked just like her shop which wasn't much. No wonder she was a lonely heifer.

"The prestigious Harward University that was established in the year 2016 with over a thousand students has announced an art exhibition show in their newly established art faculty and would love some artifacts, paintings, and sculptures to complete their studio. So if you have a collection of art that you think would be useful, please sign up for the exhibit. Details are in the description below," stated the nice-looking narrator on the TV. It was something I could never comprehend. They could pay peanuts but have to wear good-looking attires for every news. I don't think I've ever seen a newscaster in the same clothes twice.

Hurriedly, I picked a pen and some notes, scribbled down the address and the website for more information. The deadline for the sign-up was in a week. I didn't care about the money I would be getting. I just wanted something to take my mind off my lonely existence and this appeared before me, like the perfect opportunity and I wasn't going to miss it.

My artwork was away in my large storeroom adjacent to the main studio. I never let my mother look at them so I kept them away. She was likely to find mistakes in them, not like she knew anything about art. The only beautiful art she owned was her face which was also the one out of two good things that drew people to her because if I know one thing for sure, it wasn't her attitude.

As I looked in the large room, my paintings hung tightly on each of the four walls, I had no idea which to pick. The painting of Olympus which I had just finished crossed my mind but I pushed it back. That painting was too personal to let the world see. And Mother would have a fit if she found out about it. She doesn't like the idea of me even thinking of my heritage. She was always spoiling for a fight.

Sighing, I picked a few random paintings I found, and now that I thought about them, I hardly really painted about meaningful things, they were just random images that crossed my mind, most being people down on the streets. Didn't care though, I just wanted the fun. Maybe a little interaction was what I needed.

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The grand exhibit was in three days. I had a good laugh during the signing up though a greater part of me was appalled when I saw some works. They disrespected art in the vilest manner. I don't even know why they were allowed past the front door. Art isn't for everyone and they needed to know that.

Being the god of painting, I was chosen to be a part of the exhibit, I would have been insulted if it happened otherwise. The looks on their faces when they saw my work was priceless. They were shocked beyond belief. One had the guts to question my work.

"Excuse me, but was this made by you? I mean, I have only seen works like this by really famous painters like Pablo Picasso and others, and their work holds nothing to this, i-i-its astonishing!" He said in disbelief, eyeing my paintings

He stared eagerly at my works as they were being put away, in preparation for the big day. Invites were given to me and I was advised to bring a plus one. I just smiled though I knew I wouldn't be caught dead on a date with a woman. I was more into casual relationships.