May 2040
Candice’s smirk only widened at Dom’s question.
“You caught me. I’m definitely enjoying this.” She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the table as her chin hovered above her hand. “Watching you sweat a little is kind of fun. You were always so confident, Dom. It’s nice to see you’re human.”
She let the teasing linger before softening. “And for the record, sneaking into that museum was still one of the best nights of my life. It’s not my fault you set the bar so high back then.”
Her eyes flickered with something unspoken before she glanced at his drink as it arrived. She smirked again when he commented on her remembering his order.
“I don’t forget things easily.” Her tone was light, but it carried an… undercurrent of truth—one she didn’t linger on for long. Instead, she shifted gears, digging into his pieces with the focus of someone who had spent her life immersed in art.
After all - they were professionals. And this was nothing but… business.
As Dom opened up about the emotions behind his work, Candice listened closely. She wasn’t just hearing his words—she was studying him. The way his voice changed, how his eyes flickered between vulnerability and confidence. It reminded her of the boy she used to know, and yet this version of him felt so much more grounded.
Her eyes softened as he explained the first piece.
“It’s not silly,” she said quietly. “That’s what art is supposed to do—take over, speak when we can’t. Honestly? I love that you left the shadows in. It’s what makes it real. People feel that, whether they realize it or not.”
Then, as he talked about his second piece—the lighter one—her smile returned.
“Colin must be something special if he could inspire this.” She gestured to the vibrant colors. “And it’s not oversharing, Dom. If anything, it makes me appreciate the pieces even more. It’s clear your work isn’t just paint on a canvas. It’s a story—and people connect to that.”
She gave him a moment to let her words sink in before flipping to the next painting—the one he admitted was born out of loneliness. Her expression softened again, and this time, she didn’t jump into teasing.
“It’s… haunting in the best way,” she said, letting her fingers brush against the image. “And I get it. That feeling you’re talking about—being surrounded but still feeling alone—it’s awful. But it’s also so human. I’ve been there.”
She paused, then tilted her head - for a second, her mind going back to her highschool years before she willed it away. Some things were better not remembered.
“So what changed?” She asked, her voice soft but curious. “When did that feeling stop? Or did it just get quieter?”
Candice gave him time to answer, genuinely invested in his response, before finally sitting back and flipping through the portfolio again.
“Alright, here’s what I’m thinking.” She straightened in her seat, shifting back into business mode but keeping her tone warm. “This one—” She pointed to the abstract piece with the shadows. “—has to be the star. It’s raw, and people are going to connect with it. And then this one—” She flipped to the lighter, more hopeful painting. “—balances it out perfectly. I want these two pieces as the anchors, and we’ll fill in the rest with a few others that tell the story in between. It’s cohesive but still lets each piece shine.”
Candice reached into her bag, pulling out a sleek black invitation and sliding it across the table.
“The gallery opening is next Saturday. I want to put one of your pieces on display—just one—to introduce you to the crowd. Then we’ll use the opening to start promoting your show for a month later.”
She gave him a pointed look.
“And no backing out now. I’m already picturing you in the middle of the room, telling people about your work and charming everyone with that nervous energy you’ve got going right now.”
Her teasing returned as she picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“And don’t worry—you’ll get used to me bossing you around again.”
She let the banter hang there for a moment before leaning back.
Part of her felt bad.
Not sharing her life while she forced him to talk about his. She felt like she needed to tell him about hers… if only to put them on an equal playing field.
“Speaking of charming energy, do you want to know how Charlie asked me out?”
Candice didn’t wait for him to answer. He’d told her his story about Colin, perhaps it was time to share her own.
“I was working at Disney—doing animation work just about… 11 years ago now… wow…—and he was a writer. We’d been crossing paths for weeks, but he never said anything. Then one day, he slides this script under my door. I thought it was the next piece I had to animate for… well… the story was about this animator who’s too busy for dating until she meets this awkward but sweet writer who keeps making excuses to talk to her.”
She grinned, clearly still fond of the memory.
“I must have read it three times before I sketched up some rough designs, and slid it under his door - with the drawing of me saying “take me out on a date”. And he did about 20 minutes after I delivered it. Honestly? It’s still the cutest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Candice’s smile lingered as she looked at Dom, letting the moment hang between them before breaking the silence.
“Now, are you ready for Next Saturday? Or do I need to order you another drink to calm your nerves?”