Secrets

Janiss’ phone buzzed and she swatted at it with a growl. “No,” she told it as she stirred in her bed where she’d flopped only moments ago. “Go. Away.”

Her phone buzzed again and she slapped her hand onto it, turning it on only to finally silence it. 3 new messages and 1 phone call. All from new numbers. “Hello! It’s nice to meet you!” the first one said. She swiped away the notifications. The others would just be more of the same thing. “Hello! Nice to meet you!” they’d start.

She’d reply with “It’s nice to meet you as well.” Mostly because it was polite.

“My name’s [insert generic name here]. You know me from school!” they’d almost always replied.

“Oh. I’m sure I’ve seen you around, then.” No choice but the utmost politeness. Family image and all.

“I was hoping to see if you wanted to hang out this weekend. Maybe bring your brothers, too!” This last one wasn’t always worded that way. Sometimes it took a few more texts before asking about her brothers. Sometimes it was right away. But, without fail, EVERY TIME, her brothers would come up.

It. Was. A. PAIN! So, instead, she just ignored them. She had several hundred unread messages. She’d need to clear them out eventually, but better to just leave them alone.

Rolling out of bed, however, she kicked off the heels her mother made her wear to school, letting them drop to the floor with a thud before standing up and ripping herself out of her uniform and replacing it with her favorite faded jeans, tattered t-shirt, and hoodie. It had been a long week, but she was ready to relax at least a little before dinner.

 She didn’t have much time, so she rummaged through her bag, reaching for her drawing tablet, reopening the project she’d been working on from time to time during the boring classes (which was most of them).

Feet up on her table, she drew. She drew the scene in the hallway that she had memorized. She didn’t draw the group of people noticing her. She didn’t draw their wide eyes in surprise. She didn’t draw them nudging each other and pointing. She didn’t draw the crowd’s shifting attention. Instead, she drew the emotion. The feel of the scene. Dark, urchin-purple clouds spreading from a single point, curious tendrils reaching out, touching blank blobs. With just the slightest touch, the cloud seeped into the empty space. In the middle, a squirrel, mousy brown, ran, little hands outstretched, ready to leap away.

A deep forest adorned the background, stretching out from one side of the digital canvas to the other. Her hand shifted from one side, adding little flourishes of jagged lightning, chasing the poor creature. Speed lines, radiating from the fuzzy frame, found their way to the second to final layer. Her breathing sped up as the art finished taking form. Only the final layer remained before she would save it, then upload it to her Social Media Platform—@thelonerartiste.

There, she could just post her pictures. No one knew who she was there. She could hide. Not even her family knew of her platform. Here, she could just be herself.

Moments after the image finished uploading and being posted on the internet, she began to receive her first notifications. “@beetifullfleur hearted your post” and “@nerdysocks shared your post.”

Her favorite notifications came from her top fans, who always left heartwarming comments on her posts. “@Existentialdread3313 commented ‘You always do such great work!’” or “@Thesnappingturtle commented ‘Love your work Loner Artiste!’” Those were always welcome posts.

Even the occasional negative post wasn’t a terrible thing. “@Uglyduckling commented ‘what’s with this whole shapes and colors stuff? This isn’t art!’” didn’t hurt that much since it was a comment about HER. Not her brothers. Not mother. Not even a little smudge about any gods or anything. They were HER comments.

And being the social influencer she was, she always took the time, at least for the first couple days, to reply to each and every comment with at least a heart or a thank you. Even the negative ones, she left a thank you. Let them do with that what they will. One comment was especially kind. “@blissfullylife commented ‘How do you know what to draw?’” That user asked. Janiss chuckled.

“You know an artist never reveals ALL her secrets!”

The only reply was a laughter reaction left on her comment.

Without even the chance to add another comment, a soft knock rapped on the door. Janiss jumped and nearly dropped her drawing tablet before turning around and answering. “Coming,” she replied to the knock.

“Godsister Janiss” she hated when people called her that “You are requested for dinner.” The dry, monotone voice of Radestar came through the door, not even bothering to wait for it to be opened. Janiss sighed and reached around the door to retrieve tonight’s dress, a black and white paisley with a thick trim around the collar. The perfect dress for the two Gods’ sister.

Yes. Her brothers were Gods. Not just fake ones, like the movie about the golden city. No. They were actual, living Gods. Jared, the older of the twins, was the God of Life. He could literally be eaten by sharks and still be alive. In fact, that is exactly what had happened on Janiss’ 10^th birthday. They were about to celebrate her birthday; the cake was made and the presents were wrapped. Jared, however, had wandered out into the ocean and right as the knife was about to touch the cake, there was a horrendous scream.

The boy was fine. In fact, he had been missing two legs, one lung, and most of his stomach, but he was still alive and smiling. Over the course of just a day, he would be back up and walking. Just as widely known was Joel, who merely had to touch the sharks attacking Jared and they had died. By the end of the day, Janiss had gone home, alone except for her sibling, Jack, who clung to her hand as they opened the door to their once-humble home and waited.

Of course, she was glad Jared had survived, but their home would never be the same again. It started with news stations and scientists, then fanatics, nerds, and cultists. Finally, seven years later, CEOs and presidents of countries were meeting with them regularly, offering grand sums of money for the opportunity to be seen with the Gods.

And this was tonight. Another CEO, come to beg for an audience and to ask a favor of the Gods. Janiss, dressed and ready, packed away her drawing tablet under her arm and marched herself down to the dining room. Beautifully gilded with silver, gold, onyx, and quartz, the room was built by only the finest artisans. Each piece hand-crafted to fit each other. And Janiss hated every bit of it.

The quartzine sharks sculpted into the walls speared by onyx blades loomed over the little figures of people, represented by garnets. Even the three, larger gems—ruby, amethyst, and citrine, representing mother, Janiss, and Jack, the Godsibling, were pitiful in comparison.

Sitting down in her chair, waiting for the meal to start, she pulled out her tablet and started drawing again. Mostly empty space, dark corners pressing inward. A violet flame in the middle, glowing faintly, radiating a deep blue aura. From two of the corners, askew, bright bursts of blinding lights threatened to overcome everything on the —

The doors slammed open and Jared entered, his foot still in the air from kicking it. “Hello!” His flowing, platinum hair shimmering behind him.

Janiss leapt to her feet, her tablet left on the table. She hadn’t had a chance to close the app before the required formality.

“Welcome, Lady Marcie, to our home,” Jared pointed the way into the room as an elegant lady, poised and dressed in the finest, proffered a bow before strutting in. Behind both of them, Joel, quiet, hands in his pockets, and slouching just a little, found his spot at the end of the table, pulled out his chair, and set himself down.

The Lady glided to her seat, offering a curtsy and a glance to Janiss, then down to her tablet. For a moment, Janiss’ heart stopped.  Mother would be furious that this mundane object had distracted a guest. The look of shock on the lady’s face was a clear indication of what she had thought. Once it was safe, Janiss sat down and snatched the tablet from off the table and shrunk back into her chair. What a disaster.

Fortunately, Mother hadn’t seemed to notice and began the meal as was customary, thanking their guest for having come, and promising them a boon at the end of the meal. Joel always rolled his eyes at that, sighing. Mother tried to stop him, but he would never listen. Jared, however, clapped and offered his support for the guest.

The ritual boon was a regular, especially for those who had paid large sums of money to visit the Gods. Occasionally, they would be offered to the poor folk, at least formally. Jared and Joel were always happy to help anyone, so long as it increased their fame.

After the long ‘rites,’ as mother loved to call them, the meal began. Janiss would eat quickly and quietly, and return to her drawing as soon as she could and slip out once the boon was requested. She didn’t want to be there when Jared laughed and promised to bring their recently dead [insert loved one here] or Joel would grumble lightly and tell their guest when they would die. And she could get away with it too, since whenever her brothers were around, she was invisible.

Today however, something was off. Out of the corner of her eye, she kept seeing the Lady Marcie glancing in her direction. Was it the tablet? The first time, Janiss disappeared further into her chair, a squirrel quietly hiding in their tree. The others spoke to the Lady and she would reply, but only a few moments later, her gaze returned to Janiss.

Thoroughly weirded out by the attention, Janiss tried to eat more quickly. Maybe she could slink away before the boons this time. She pushed the Le Bonnotte potatoes into a pile, hoping to make it bigger—maybe she could hide behind it. It was foolish and she knew that, but something was up. What had she even done?

On the third glance, the Lady’s emotionless expression actually broke into the slightest of smiles. She looked down at her potatoes. Was she being mocked? Jared was saying something and the Lady laughed a polite laugh and Janiss devoured the pile of potatoes in as little as three bites, getting only a little on her cheek. Mother had not seemed to notice, fortunately. Messy eating, whenever she noticed, was a terrible pet peeve of hers. It was at this moment that the Lady had decided to glance at her again, and an involuntary chuckle escaped her lips, which she expertly turned into the beginning of a reply to something Jared had said.

Janiss’ cheeks flared red with heat, the smudge of potatoes melting off and onto her lap. Today was a disaster. Janiss had to get out of there or at least hide behind her tablet. The rainbow carrots were simple and hardly spilled as she shoveled them into her mouth. The lobster would not be so simple to ingest quickly. Shelling them took time and Janiss did not have that luxury.

The fifth and sixth glance came with raised eyebrows as Janiss viciously fought with the lobster shell.

By the seventh, Janiss had just finished her lobster and washed it down with her minor-friendly grape juice—probably the cheapest thing on the menu. Janiss raised her own eyebrow in return, as if to ask “Why do you keep looking at me?” To which, the Lady just smiled and turned back to the Gods.

The last of her drink finished, she escaped back to hiding beneath the edge of the table as best she could, but even as she started drawing, the eighth glance came. Her eyes widened, but she controlled it and returned back to the conversation with Janiss’ brothers.

If she said anything to mother, this was going to become a disaster! She  wanted to hide away in her room, but there was still far too much time left in the meal. There was no way she would be able to sneak away so quickly and not be noticed at some point. So she drew.

She continued the drawing from before, the two shining, white auras met with a third, hazardous orange flash. She rarely used that color, but in this case, it was appropriate. The flash emanated from a distant, sea-blue lighthouse, blinding and covering up the violet flame.

The glances came more quickly and more subtly now, but Janiss ignored them. She was in her zone. Drawing let her ignore everything else. Around the base, not water, but scratchy moss stretched out from the distant pillar, seemingly ablaze with the infinitely dense lights that touched each piece. Janiss drew, letting herself get pulled in to the drawing, perfecting the lines, shading; each piece important. She saw the colors, and she knew they clashed, but it was in the clashing that the emotion lived. This was the scene: Intense. Bright. Awkward!

The violet flame shied away with each pass of the toxic orange. What pass had it been? At least the thirtieth. Janiss had lost track, but she drew. She had almost finished, only placing the final touches onto her piece. The glint of reflection on the edge of the lighthouse; the deep, pitch of its shadow. And the single, final fleck in the center of the flickering flame.

Taking a deep breath, Janiss saved, compressing the image and noticed, in the quiet moments before she hit send, everyone’s eyes on her. Mother’s face had turned the color of an electric burner and she indicated to Janiss that she should hand her tablet to one of the servants. Quietly, she hit send, and logged out of her platform, handing the device to Radestar, who would return it once everyone had left.

Lady Marcie was shaking her head with a sigh and the two Gods looked at her in confusion. So, Janiss plopped into her seat, taking a deep breath, and waiting. There would be no way she could leave early now. Mother would have her hide if she tried to sneak away. So, she sat, requesting a second drink of juice, pretending it were something like what the adults had.

The rest of the meal proceeded slowly and the Lady only glanced her way a few times. Each with a pained expression, to which Janiss simply shrugged or stared blankly at the crystal glass she held in her hand, swirling it like they did in the movies.

And finally, the time of the boon arrived and the Lady stood up and bowed deeply. “The only boon I would wish is a single, signed piece of art.”

While not unheard of, material boons were requested often enough. Usually by the poorer populations, though. A collector’s item would be something that she could show off to her rich friends.

“Your boon is accepted,” Mother replied, responding with a nod of her head. “Might I show you to the art gallery, where you can make your choice from our exquisite collection?”

The Lady shook her head. “I do not believe the art piece I desire has been printed yet.”

“Oh? We do not have any works that have not yet been made.”

The Lady smiled, turning her head toward Janiss. “I believe there is one that was just made tonight. I wish to have a copy printed onto canvas and signed by the artist.”

Janiss’ eyes widened as she stared at the Lady. Her blood turned to crystals. How did she know and why would she want that.

Mother took three looks, one after the other, each with a greater degree of surprise, to Janiss. “Are you certain?” she asked, lips curled and somehow stretched thin at the same time.

“Yes,” the Lady spoke with an air of finality.

Janiss blinked for the first time in entire minutes as mother could not seem to decide which direction to look, whether at Janiss with a mouth wide like a toad’s or at the Lady with a more controlled expression.

Jared watched the scene casually, smirking, while Joel actually sported a faint smile.

The Lady just watched and waited, keeping her gaze solidly fixed on mother.

Janiss’ legs began to shake and little stars danced in her vision, flitting from corner to corner, just out of her sight.

Mother worked her mouth before croaking out. “If that is your request. Consider it granted.”

The next few minutes were a rush of excitement as servants moved about, acquiring numbers, returning Janiss’ tablet, and placing phone calls. During this time, the Lady stepped away from the confusion and pulled up next to Janiss.

“How did you know?” she asked, voice cracking.

The Lady just smiled quietly “You know an artist never shares ALL her secrets,” she replied, then smoothly glided away.