Charcoal

"That's nice. I'm sure it's lovely." Soul had meant to sound sarcastic, but the words we just a bit too close to the truth to have the proper effect.

"It is. I like it." Scott flashed a blinding smile then turned to perfect his picture.

Soul gave up on drawing for the day. He shaded in the grass and flowers and waited for the hour to end. And to think this was the class he was most excited for.

Later in the dorm Soul felt like drawing, but didn't feel like he deserved to. He looked out the window and watched Jon practice expressions in the mirror. He was listening to Phantom of the Opera, it fit Soul's mood. But after a while Soul was aching for quiet and went to find the library. He took the long way around, behind the dorm buildings and through the arts quad. The flowers and trees were calming. The still summer air felt like a blanket sweaty wool blanket, and by the time Soul reached the library, the air conditioning felt like heaven.

The building was new, but the architect was obviously inspired by Gothic European churches and cathedrals. The building was made of some smooth white stone, but it still gave the impression of being dark. The windows were large but narrow, filled with clear hand made glass that bent the light into soft waves on the stone floor. At this hour this early in the year the library was relatively empty, and on the third floor, where Soul headed, there was not a breath of sound. Very different from the dorm room Soul had left.

As he sat in one of the many window seats and watched the distorted trees through the unique glass, Soul realized he should have brought something with him to do. He did have some homework, even if it wasn't much, and he didn't want to get behind this early in the year. But soon, all his thoughts drifted away, he drifted away and faded into the light.

"Damn, I wish the light didn't fade so fast." Soul jumped. The sun had set significantly since he had drifted. The waves of light were crimson and gold, and his arms and legs were stiff from sitting still for so long. Soul turned to see whom the voice belonged to; he almost couldn't believe his bad luck. Sitting at one of the long tables was Scott, with a large pad of watercolor paper. His hair was tousled and light stubble graced his cheeks, glowing in the fading light. He had a smudge of charcoal on his cheek and a pencil behind his ear, another in his hand.

"Why are you here?" Soul stretched his legs slowly. He didn't want to seem like he was running away. He got the impression running would make Scott chase.

"If you checked Professor White's web page you would know that we have a mini series of sketches due next week. Something that is based on what we drew today." Scott ran his hand through his hair again. The one with the pencil in it. Somehow the streak of black the soft lead left looked avant-garde and almost attractive. Soul debated not answering, but he was too curious, he had to know.

"That doesn't answer my question. Why do you have to be up here? I obviously wanted to be by myself."

"I wasn't bothering you, you didn't notice me for nearly an hour, plus how am I supposed to draw you if I can't see you? " And with another smile and what looked like a wink Scott gathered his drawing and jogged down the stone stairs.

When Soul returned to the dorm, he drew, for the first time, a portrait. It wasn't very realistic. It was a profile. Soul hadn't meant to draw it. It was a picture of Scott; it was a picture of Scott sitting in the window Soul had been sitting in. After he finished it Soul looked at it for a long time. He thought of the project we were supposed to be doing. If what Scott said was the truth, Soul had to start working on a series of flowers. Soul didn't think he could do something like what he had drawn in class today and get anything near a passing grade. That left him two choices. Either not follow the assignment and do a series of something not related, or figure out a way to turn daisies into something more his style. Soul smiled to himself, and began to draw.

Somehow seeing Scott was cleansing. Soul still didn't like him. He felt vaguely dirty that Scott was drawing him, but it was nice that Scott needed him to do his project. It gave Soul power. If Soul really wanted to he could simply never sit still enough for Scott to draw him. Then he would fail the project and Soul would be ahead. Soul didn't know when he had made a competition, but he felt like that was the only way to deal with someone like Scott. And now, by any rules Soul was winning.

Soul brushed his hair out of his eyes; it was getting a bit long now, and began to draw. He started out a bit ambitiously. He had a two by three piece of watercolor paper laid out on the floor and was sketching furiously when Jon came back. Jon had been out rehearsing and was quite surprised when he found Soul working. He tried to hide it, but his bright eyebrows were threatening his hairline when he carefully stepped over Soul's sketch to his bed.

Soul hadn't been drawing much, but now the block seemed to have disappeared. It seemed all the frustration and Scott's appearance, and the newfound competition was just what Soul needed for inspiration. He drew furiously. He had charcoal all the way up his arm and some on his face, and if his hair weren't so dark, it would be in his hair. He incorporated flowers into the theme of the forest, it wasn't anything like the original picture he had drawn years before, or even like the picture he had drawn on his first day at the art institute. It was a wholly new picture. The flowers were recognizable as daisies, but there was something wrong about them. When Jon looked at them he couldn't help but shiver. He didn't know what it was about Soul's pictures but they made his heart itch. He didn't like to look at the picture for long.

The daisies were growing up a trellis made of something that Soul wouldn't recognize until later as human bones, the petals of the flowers at the top of the trellis faded into the background that Soul was carefully shading. He made the sky into intricate braids. It looked like the sky was a photograph of someone's hair.

By the time Soul was ready to be done drawing for the day, the light was definitely gone from the room. The floor he drew on was lit by his IKEA reading light. Jon had tried to go to sleep hours ago, but couldn't knowing that picture was there. He didn't think he could sleep without knowing what it looked like completely, but he knew once he knew what it was he wouldn't be able to close his eyes without imagining it. He climbed down from his loft when Soul finally sat back from the paper and sat next to him on the ground.

"So what's the inspiration for this one?" He spoke quietly. Even though he knew the building was filled with other freshmen not unlike them, the quiet and the lighting made it seem like they were the only people in the world.

"I don't know." Soul looked down at what he drew with new eyes. He didn't know where anything he drew came from. He never really thought about it too hard. He didn't really want to know that much about himself. "I never really think about it, and I don't really look back at what I draw once it's done."

Jon nodded. I found the more time he spent around Soul the more time he spent thinking about what he said. Especially after he spent time in the theatre. He loved his new friends. But in class and in rehearsal he was finding there was more to playing a character than grand gestures and memorizing lines. There was more to being a person. He wanted to know more about everyone.

"Are the petals fingernails?" Jon gasped. First forests made of hands, now flowers of fingernails. He couldn't believe the detail Soul had put into his sketch, a few of the petals had chips in the nail polish, lines from impact, a few looked like they might have hangnails. Soul looked again at the picture. He felt numb. Now that he was finished he felt disconnected from the image. He didn't want to think about it, or look at it. He reconsidered doing a whole series based on this image. It didn't draw him like the forest.

"I suppose they are. I didn't think of that." Soul leaned forward and quickly rolled the picture not bothering with fixative.

"Won't that smear?" Jon asked. Soul shrugged. He put a rubber band around the tube and threw it into a corner.

"It's past three, we should probably go to bed." He then crawled into his bed and turned his back on Jon, who was still looking at the rolled up picture in the corner. It was over an hour before Jon could get the image of fingernails as petals to fade enough to fall asleep. And even then he dreamt of a world made of hands, hands that were always grasping, pinching and plucking. When his alarm went off in the morning Jon was relieved. In the daylight the dreams of the night retreated and he felt he could face his roommate without questioning how he could have come up with such an image.

Jon had always been a morning person, but he jumped out of bed and carefully checked that the roll of paper was still where it was supposed to be before getting dressed and fetching coffee for himself and Soul.

Soul almost woke when he heard Jon's alarm go off, but he had gotten used to it in the past few weeks. He had gotten used to his bubbly almost friend nudging him awake with coffee in hand. The next week passed in a haze. Soul went to class, or hung out with Jon, or went to some club meeting that sounded interesting during the day. Then he came home and finished any homework that needed to be done, then he began to draw. He drew, almost in a trance until the daylight was gone and the only light was from the book light. Jon had learned to ignore the pictures after the second night. The theme of flowers and hands had remained. Though each picture featured them differently. Each picture had a nightmarish theme, and Soul had no idea where the inspiration for each one came from. The pile of rolled up tubes in the corner grew until Tuesday morning when it was time for class.

Monday when Soul finished his writing class he found Scott waiting outside the door for him.

"I have tried to give you space, but I really need to do my project." Scott smiled, blindingly as usual. But this time Soul smiled back. Comfortable with the upper hand he shrugged and pushed past.

"Sorry, I'm really busy, I have to finish my essay." Soul didn't even turn to address Scott; he figured it was his turn to be mean. His turn to be the one with all the power. It was something that he had never really had. Even with Michelle and David, his best friends, he had always been outvoted. With that thought Soul paused. He hadn't thought of Michelle and David in over a week. And from what he could tell they hadn't thought of him either.

"Can't I draw you while you write, I didn't bother you before did I?" Scott's voice was right behind Soul. Soul sighed. He didn't think he would have much success getting rid of Scott, and he had planned on working outside, and he had finished his essay except for editing. There was no reason he shouldn't let Scott draw him. Other than the fact he was a douche.

"How do I know you aren't doing this to make fun of me?" Soul was remembering the first time he had seen Scott, the remarks he had made so easily, things that would have made that poor girl cry. Scott said things without thinking; destroyed people for amusement, if what Jon said could be trusted.

Scott looked stunned.

"Why would I do this as a joke. It's a pretty big project. I wouldn't ruin that for a stupid joke." Soul ran his hand through his hair. He thought about it. He would sit for one sketch. Then he would finish in the dorm. That was fair enough.

"Fine."

Hours went by, and when Scott flipped the page in his sketchbook Soul stood.

"Wait!" Scott sounded panicked.

"What?" Soul tried not to smile. He really liked this feeling of power. Scott was slow; Soul had been sitting for nearly three hours. "That should have been long enough. I'm not some professional model, and you aren't paying me. You should have asked if you wanted me to sit still for that long. You should have taken some pictures if you need a still to draw from." Soul couldn't keep the smile from his face. He gathered his laptop and notes and headed inside. He couldn't wait until class tomorrow. It would be quite interesting.