What Do You See?
Characters: Zach and Kyle Setting: midday, Kyle's room
Zach waited what he decided was an appropriate amount of time then headed towards the other block. He didn’t rush straight to Kyle’s room, walking through the library again, considering a book on something different, but nothing jumped out at him enough to take it now. He made some notes of some books, but with his memory they would be easy find later. Then it was off to Kyle’s room, finding it easily and knocking on the door.
It was a moment or two before Kyle answered the door. Whilst he had been expecting Zach, it was still on his mind that Adam might turn up. Maybe. He actually didn't know. He was just waiting. Anyway, he made sure to hide the shield he was working on in the bathroom before he opened the door. "Hi," he said as he realised it certainly wasn't Adam. "You must be Zach."
Zach waited, curious if the other man would recognize him and then when he didn’t see that spark he found himself nodding. “That would be me,” he said nodding. “I’m assuming you’re Kyle.”
"That would be me," Kyle confirmed. He stepped back so that Zach could come in. "Excuse the room, it's... a working environment." He explained.
Zach let himself into the room, looking around, taking in the room that also looked like a studio. “You seem to have made the most of your space.” He studied some of the work, head tilted as he took it in. He didn’t linger long on anything, not really needing to. That was how his mind worked.
"Well, it's either this, or leaving my work out in public places. And given the vandalism that has gone on here, I'm not willing to do that." Kyle moved to shift some bits off the love seat so Zach could sit down. "Sometimes I wonder if they'd give me an actual studio if I asked, but I don't want to push things," he explained, talking ten to the dozen.
“You did post about wanting to make this your career of sorts,” Zach said, moving to sit in the open space. “Maybe they would understand.” He gave the room another look again, then focused back on Kyle. “What did you need my help with?”
"This was always meant to be my career," Kyle told him. "Before everything happened. If I can salvage some of that, it would be nice. If not, well, I just like being able to make art," he admitted. He gave a small smile and shrugged. "Anyway, Autumn is organizing a party for tonight. I volunteered to help get things organised. You could help out if you wanted." Which wasn't as fun or silly as some of his plans, but it would give the artist a chance to consider the new guy.
"Was it? Interesting." Zach always found those with career paths of sorts in mind. He'd never considered his own. The job had merely been a means to an end, something he was good at to the point where he didn't have to think about it. Raising one eyebrow he watched the other man. "A party? What exactly did you need? I'm not quite the party type I don't think."
"Probably not a whole lot," Kyle told him. "From the sounds of things, it's just down in the bar. Maybe some karaoke. Shouldn't be too taxing. Definitely not a long term commitment," he joked, lightly.
“So that was a bar on the map,” Zach said, with an glint of interest in his eyes. “I suppose that sounds...enjoyable.” Not that he’d ever experienced as much nor would he know what to do with a party of any sort. “I can manage helping.”
"From which I assume that you're not one of life's great karaoke stars? Hmm?" Kyle asked, jokingly. "I don't think the singing is necessary. At least, I hope it's not. It's not really my thing either," he confessed.
Zach’s face actually showed something close to emotion, though it was more of a sarcasm than an emotion. “No. Probably not. Technically I don’t actually know, but based on other events, I doubt I am.”
Kyle sat down on the edge of his bed. “Other events?” he asked, with genuine interest. Just because he didn’t tend to ask people about their convictions didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in their pasts at all.
The interest was different, not something that Zach had expected. Maybe it was because he lacked the interest in others. “My life as a whole. I’ve not been very social. I can assume that karaoke wouldn’t call to me either.”
“You never know - you could discover your inner diva,” Kyle teased, wrinkling his nose a little. “Though - you don’t actually have to get up there at all, if it doesn’t call to you. I would imagine lots of people won’t. And that is probably a good thing, given a whole lot of people are pretty much tone deaf. I’m all up for fun, but I’m not masochistic.”
Inner diva. That was another set of words that Zach was sure didn’t apply to him. “I think I’m more suited for something with less attention focused on it.”
Kyle considered that, and the way Zach was talking. “So - what does call to you?” he asked, wondering if there was something. From the way the other man had been talking, he wouldn’t actually be surprised if there was no answer to that right now, he sounded like maybe he hadn’t found it yet.
Zach considered it, reaching to fix the glasses that weren’t there again. He was still getting used to not wearing them, enjoying the freedom contacts gave him, but the physical feel of the glasses had been a touchpoint for him over the years. “I don’t believe I know,” he admitted after a moment. “I’ve been told I need new perspective, but there hadn’t been space for much else beyond my goals that landed me here.”
“Well, if your goals landed you here, then yeah - I’d say you need new goals,” Kyle told him, cheekily. “There seems to be a good few opportunities for people here though - hopefully you’ll find something to connect with. Have you got any of the official position things?” he asked.
There was a hint of appreciation of the cheeky tone in Zach’s eyes because he found that amusing. That sort of thing didn’t usually translate well with him, but he did find it amusing. “Those goals are accomplished. I accepted my punishment, because I’m aware of the law. I hadn’t thought past it yet.” He tilted his head for a moment as if thinking over things then shook it. “I have not. I believe I wasn’t here early enough to be voted for something. I have made a request to do IT support, as I’ve done that before.”
“Well, then you’ll have my vote for that,” Kyle promised him. “And I’ll also know who to call if I ever have a problem with that thing,” he added, gesturing at the computer. “I’m not great with technical things. I’m surprised I haven’t blown it up yet.”
The ghost of a smile was there again. “It’s harder to blow up than you think,” he promised tone sound more amused than before, though still well below what anyone else would sound like. “But you can call. And the vote is appreciated, I apparently need them.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Kyle told him. “It’s all the little pieces that spook me, I think. Things shouldn’t be that small and still work. I feel the same way about watches. If I ever stop and think about the intricacies, I imagine this little stooped old man with an eye glass and a tiny pair of tweezers and I can’t imagine actually having to work like that.”
Zach tilted his head and got up, moving towards the computer. “Lucky for you, you can see the big parts,” he commented, glint in his eyes for just a moment. “Why do the small things bother you so much? I’ve heard more than one person refer to it as art.”
Kyle gestured to his desk, where there were leftover scattered beads from two of his previous projects, some wooden, some sparkling where they caught the light. There were also some bits of wire and other remnants still lying around. “That’s as small as I get - and even that wouldn’t be my choice, normally. But I’ve been working on things for other people,” he said. “It’s not that small bothers me, as such. It’s just... It’s that idea, of spending my life hunched over a desk. Maybe that’s what actually bothers me. Either making, or working - computers seem to tie one to a desk. Or a table in a coffee shop with a laptop.”
Picking up the beads, Zach studied them, then set them back down again. “What are you working on?” Since it wasn’t for himself, it caught Zach’s attention. “I believe I was made to be tied to a desk or behind a computer. I have the build for it.” It was a joke, obvious in the slight change in his tone, yet shockingly truthful, consider the little that he’d done outside of his job with computers was only constructive in his mind.
“Gifts for friends,” Kyle told him. “Or, maybe gifts for one particular friend, but in a round about way,” he added with a smile. “A tiara, and a bracelet. They’re my first real forays into jewellery making, but I think they’ve come out alright. But - not my calling,” he joked. “So - what build is good for being tied to a desk?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly and considering the other man.
“How is a gift for a friend in a roundabout way?” Zach asked, trying for curiosity and interest in Kyle, but it was more an interest in situation. He found that as something he might could learn from or at least help him put some basis to the situation he’d found himself in. He glanced up at the look, surprised at how it made him feel. He really hadn’t been considered like that...maybe ever. Those who considered him at his trial tried to determine how the man had killed people without remorse, but not like this. This was something else he couldn’t put his finger on exactly. “Small and looks as if I could barely lift the CPU,” he explained.
Kyle grinned. “Call it elaborate role play. Something made for another friend to wear for the entertainment of the first friend and god that sounded a whole lot less R-rated in my head,” he laughed as he realised what that actually sounded like. “So! Moving on! I’ve always been of the opinion that people should never be judged by physical appearances. And I say that as someone who has been judged by his physical appearance for most of his life - so, I feel your pain!” he said, brightly, trying to shuck off what he said before.
“So it’s not R-rated?” Zach asked, half teasing though again it sounded more like a quip and less like a tease. He smirked again and shook his head. “I dare say you might be more imposing that I am. I am worthy of being judged by my physical appearance.” Physics had helped him get what he needed done for his murders.
“Nope, strictly PG-13, I swear,” Kyle promised, though he thought it best to not go anywhere near trying to explain that any further. “Nobody is ever worth being judged by their physical appearance,” he corrected, though gently. He didn’t know whether this was another case like Adam, whether this guy had similar self-esteem problems. Kyle hated the idea of anyone selling themselves short, and he wouldn’t let people do it in his presence, no matter who they were.
“And yet I still can only carry the CPU so far,” Zach corrected. He stood up straighter. “I’ve overcome the worst of it though.” He definitely had when it was necessary.
“You found a truck with wheels?” Kyle suggested, amused. “There’s all sorts of ways to get around physical limitations. Just because neither of us is Hulk strong doesn’t mean that we just can’t.”
“I had a very nice cart with great wheels,” Zach confirmed, smirking slightly again, though it was as close to a smile as he got most of the time. “There are things I can’t do, but at the same time,” he gestured to the computer. “I have other skills.”
“Let me guess, in there, you’re some kind of a god,” Kyle laughed. Hell, for all he knew, that could be the case. The man could be in for computer crime or something. Cyber-terrorist or whatever the flashy phrase was. That caught headlines - though not necessarily in the way that had seemed to have been suggested before. Where apparently people were scared of the slight man before him now.
“Hardly,” Zach said, not much of a believer in that sort of thing. “But I can do far more than I can physically.” He had used it to plan everything he’d done, and carefully lay out the plans.
“Then you definitely have my IT job vote,” Kyle said, determinedly - even though he’d already promised that earlier on in their conversation. He was all for people doing what they felt the most comfortable with, and not being forced to do things they didn’t want to be doing.
“I appreciate it,” he said with a nod. “I would hate to wind up doing detention or something similar.” He leaned against the desk watching Kyle for a long moment. “You gave up your job.”
Kyle straightened a little. “I thought I had been very clear about not wanting a job in the first place. But - they gave me one anyway. By which I suppose some misguided souls actually voted for me. For working in a shop. Yes, I turned it down. For my sake and for the sake of the other people who would have had to try and deal with me in that particular scenario.” Kyle didn’t notice it, but as he spoke, he took on more of the voice and bearing of his upbringing, rather than his usual, far more casual and chatty, demeanour. By the end, he was pretty much looking down his nose.
Zach watched the change, head tilted to the side. It was an interesting way of looking at things. “I imagine they picked it because it can’t be that difficult. If you seem to have little interest in anything else.” It was interesting, the way the man changed though. It was an attitude that Zach had seen before and found himself in a situation where if he was able to be put off by something the attitude might have put him off.
“I just know me,” Kyle said, quirking a toothless smile, the attitude fading away again. “I know what I can get like, and I know I’m a bitch to deal with when I’m unhappy.” At least, when he was letting himself be that way, but he was never turning himself off again. He hoped he would never have to. The way he had put it to Zach wasn’t quite right, not quite accurate, but it would do for this situation, and they were hardly at the heart to heart level.
Zach’s eyebrows raised. “I don’t believe anyone is easy to deal with when they’re unhappy. I’ve seen that first hand.” He had watched unhappy people do terrible things. Those were part of the wrongs he’d done his best to right.
“Yeah, but some people are just good at sucking it up. I tend to become a royal bitch and do my level best to make everyone else around me just as miserable as I am. Or at least, let them know without a shadow of a doubt how miserable I am,” Kyle explained.
There was a pause then Zach nodded. It was probably for the best that Kyle realized that was how he was. He’d gathered that not many people did know they were like that. “Seems best to keep you happy then,” he said.
“I’m hoping that I can earn my way through selling my art,” he said, gesturing at the various canvases around the room. “If people are interested enough. I figure I’ll spend the next few days finishing these off, then take them down to the store and see what interest I get. Maybe make sure people know I’ll take commissions as well.” He shrugged. “And if I can’t, then I just won’t be able to buy whatever they’re selling down there, and I’ll have to sweet-talk friends into buying me drinks at the bar.” Not that he was a big drinker. Or needed a huge amount to get him drunk.
Zach left the desk, taking in the artwork again, paying slightly more attention, things time not just noting what it was but noting the strokes, the skill, and the mechanics that went into it. “I suppose someone might be interested. Or in learning if you’re a teacher as well.” He looked over his shoulder. That was where he heard most artists had wound up, teaching.
Kyle took what he perceived to be a criticism of his work and a dismissal of his talent on the chin, not showing any sign of being hurt. Art was subjective, and people could be cruel. Just because this man seemed to not like what he did didn’t mean anything other than he personally didn’t like it. Kyle had never felt the drive to be liked by everyone. “I suppose so,” he said, though his tone was a little more closed off. “I’m willing to take that risk.”
Zach turned, curious expression. “Teaching is a risk?” he asked. That was an interesting take on what he’d said. It was just a plain comment.
“Not if people want to learn,” Kyle pointed out in a tone which suggested that the possibility there would be nobody was the real risk. In actual fact, he hadn’t considered teaching. Other than with Leandro - and that had been different. That hadn’t been selling his skills. That had been sharing them with someone who was a... friend? Lover? Interested party?
“With the amount of free time we seem to have, even with our positions, I’m not sure that anyone would be that opposed,” he said with a nod. “It was merely a suggestion. An observation. I’m not entirely good at anything beyond that.”
“Observing?” Kyle asked, clarifying that. “That seems even less saleable than art lessons,” he pointed out, the edge of bitch showing. Possibly he wasn’t as good at taking perceived criticism as objectively as he would have liked.
Zach licked at the inside of his lip, watching the other man. “Hence why IT support,” he commented. “But it helps that I don’t forget things.”
“Never?” Kyle asked, skeptically. “You have some kind of eidetic memory?”
“Never. And yes, that exactly.” He smirked again and looked back at the painting. “I won’t ever forget what it looks like.”
“But will you ever know what it means?” Kyle shot back, without missing a beat.
He looked back at Kyle again, for once obviously surprised by the comment. It was the truest emotion shown since he’d arrived. “Does it mean something beyond what it is?”
Kyle smiled then, noting the surprise and listening to the question. He stood up and walked over to the painting that Zach had been looking at. “What does it say to you?” he asked. “Does it say anything other than the lines, the strokes, the colours? If you really look at it. Good art should speak to you, somewhere inside. Good art should produce an emotional response.” And there was no question, in his tone, that Kyle considered his art, good art.
“I tend to see the methodology in making it than an emotional response. I’m not entirely an emotional person.” Stoic. He’d heard that word before the trial. It was whispered in the years after the shooting, how people tended to describe him. Mild mannered and stoic.
Oh. One of those... Kyle thought to himself, but didn’t say anything about it. “Some people find art helpful in connecting with their emotions, apparently,” he said, instead. “If they have problems doing that in their everyday life.”
I’m not sure it’s much of a problem,” he said looking over at Kyle. His emotions had driven him he supposed, but he didn’t suffer from them. Not when he could be logical. “What does it say to you?”
“Everything exists in balance,” Kyle said, hefting the painting and running his hand lightly across the surface. “Nothing works if the balance is off.” He set the picture against the wall, atop his desk, so it was at a better viewing height. It was almost impressionist in style, though the colours he had chosen were far more modern and vibrant. A figure, sitting before a mirror, reflected back on themselves. Ostensibly a woman, though that could be up for grabs. There was someone else in the room as well, only viewable in the reflection. A shadowy form that somehow managed to suggest both threat and promise. As Kyle spoke, he knew he was talking both about Zach’s expressions of emotion and also the painting itself.
“And this a balance of what exactly? Color or good and evil?” he said pointing towards the figure in the mirror.
“Yes. And more,” Kyle said. “You shouldn’t try and look at art as any one thing. It works on a number of levels. Means a number of things.”
Zach didn’t speak, watching Kyle, waiting on more. He guessed there was more of an explanation the artist could elaborate on and given the time, the artist would. This was where Zach felt most at ease anyway, listening and keeping quiet.
Kyle didn’t disappoint. “I specifically made this one so it could be read a number of ways. So that for every positive you could find in it, it’s balanced by a negative. And not all of them are real. See here - how the reflections in the mirror don’t quite match to their counterparts? At first glance, they seem the same, but the more you look, the more you should see differences. The reflection is darker, more foreboding than the real image, but at the same time, I’ve tried to also make it more attractive. What you see in the mirror, it isn’t what’s real. And whether that appeals to you, or scares you - that’s a personal thing.”
Zach continued to listen, noting the differences in coloring and lighting. “What purpose does that serve?” he asked, giving Kyle more room to speak, though he was curious on the why of things here.
“Well, that’s up to you,” the artist told him. “I can’t give you all the answers to this. Maybe it’s just meant to make you stop and think.”
That seemed to be the theme of what he was hearing. That he needed to think beyond those four walls he’d resigned himself to. “You are the one that put it into the painting,” he said half smirking.
“And if I wanted to tell people what they should think, then I would have become a preacher,” Kyle said, smirking right back at him.
“Instead you’d rather gently guide them the right way,” he said nodding. He tucked his hands into his pockets and tilted his head. “I might need to continue to consider it.”
“I never claim to have any of the answers,” Kyle told him. He then narrowed his eyes and his smirk widened a little. “And if you want to consider it, then give it a couple of days and it’ll be for sale in the store,” he pointed out. “Prices will be really reasonable...”
Zach tapped the side of his head slightly. “It’s already here. I can consider it on my own,” he said. “But I will consider it, provided I get a job.”
“It’s already here. In my room. So, once you leave... You won’t have it anymore,” Kyle pointed out. He grinned, knowingly. “I think you should definitely get a job.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, curious because it seemed like something he was missing. “I’ll still remember it. Promise. And even if I don’t I’m sure I’ll manage to entertain myself. I was looking at life in solitary.”
“Bullet dodged there then,” Kyle said, once again specifically not asking for any more information on that front. Whilst he no longer actively thought about it, there remained a piece of the artist that was terrified to discover the reality of the people surrounding him. “And you’ll come down to the bar later? To set up? And maybe to actually interact with the rest of us. Listen to the scary lack of talent which usually makes up karaoke?”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Zach said, quiet for a moment before nodding. “I will be there. When do you need me?” he asked, looking over at him. “I will help set up, and I will try at the other part.”
“Autumn’s putting it together - but I think she’d like help whenever it’s available. I was going to head down in a little while,” Kyle said. “I just have a few things to finish up here first.”
Zach nodded and went back to looking at the painting. “I will head down soon then. And you can put me to work.”
“See you later,” Kyle said with a laugh. It was then he realised that he was feeling better today. Better than he had been feeling earlier, even. It was a good feeling and one that was definitely welcome.
Zach barely smiled again, but it was as good as it got before he head towards the door, letting himself out. It was a start, but it was better than sitting in his room alone if he was supposed to be making an effort.