2. Mia

Mia Spencer took an uber back to Lix Club to pick up her car. She was positively giddy, tipping big and waving cheerily at the driver as she sauntered to her car.

She had simply gone to Lix Club to get blind drunk and forget. She had been on her way to doing just that when the opportunity of a night with a beautiful stranger had presented itself. Mia had seldom been so glad that she’d taken an opportunity. That sex had been eye-opening, to say the least.

Mia had had sex before, but it paled in comparison to what she had shared with Genevieve. She wondered if it was common to find someone that compatible with her, or if it was as rare for Genevieve as it was for her.

It had quickly become clear that Genevieve was experienced in the art of picking up strangers and taking them home. Mia wondered why that was. A woman like Genevieve who was beautiful and enigmatic and clearly very wealthy should have no problem finding partners for a real relationship.

Mia could only conclude that this simply wasn’t what Genevieve was looking for. That was fine, of course. Mia felt like she ultimately needed a true partner in life to feel fulfilled, but she wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that everyone else had that same need.

She got home and fell into bed, still slightly dazed from earlier. Perhaps, tonight, she would sleep without nightmares. She had certainly gotten the thorough fucking Genevieve had promised her. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Unfortunately, though it had undoubtedly been the best sex of her life, it turned out not to be enough.

Mia woke with a start at around two a.m., covered in cold sweat. She sat up in bed, sighing as the images bombarded her. She had been five when her father died in a car crash and ten when her mother remarried.

Her mother had been deeply in love with her stepfather, but for Mia, it was far from the happy picture her mother painted. Silas started off okay… until he started drinking. He got nasty when he was drunk. Very nasty.

Mia wasn’t an idiot. She knew what PTSD was. She knew that abuse survivors everywhere recovered and lived without the shadow of their past hanging over them. Mia was scared, though. She didn’t want to open up to a stranger about her deepest, darkest secrets. Seeking treatment would make her vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been since she was sixteen.

As always, the thought brought on a wave of bitterness. When Mia had finally worked up the courage to confront her mother, her mother took Silas’ side. Mia knew, then, that waiting and hoping for the situation to get better was never going to work.

Mia had never regretted running away at sixteen. Even during her lowest times in the shelters, before she was earning enough money from her paintings to get her own place, it was a thousand times better than what she had left behind.

She was dwelling on it, again. Mia forced herself out of bed and to her home studio. Painting always soothed her. Hopefully she could still get a few hours of sleep.

She let her thread of inspiration guide her. Mia seldom painted people, but after tonight, she felt an urge to do so. She sketched an outline, becoming immersed in the work. The woman didn’t look exactly like Genevieve, but encapsulated her beauty, poise and competent air.

Mia had to force herself to stop when her eyes began itching with tiredness. She stumbled back to bed and pulled the covers up over her head.

Thankfully, this time, she slept without nightmares.

The next day, Mia arrived early to her showing. It was an important one. A representative from the creative department of some bigshot investment company, Wisdom Investments, was coming to see her work. If he liked it, he would recommend that the CEO come and meet with her personally.

Mia knew that this kind of opportunity could be career-changing for her. She knew that her work was good, but even being known in the local arts scene, getting visibility was always a problem. If she could just get her work out there, she knew she had the potential to expand her career so much more, maybe even becoming known internationally.

Mia had selected some of the paintings showed in Elite Artworks to bring to the showing, but she had also painted one with this meeting specifically in mind. Mia usually painted nature, but she had occasionally done city scenes before. This painting was a view of the city lights at night, with the shadow of a mountain in the background.

She was extremely pleased with it and thought it would appeal to such business-minded people more than a waterfall or a mountain, no matter how skillfully executed.

Mia was early for the meeting, ready to wait, but the representative arrived exactly on time.

“Hi, Mia, I’m Archer, from Wisdom Investments. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you and your work.”

“Thank you. It’s an honor to receive interest from an organization like yours.”

Mia was eager to get straight to showing him her work, but she recognized the unfortunate need for small talk. “Please, tell me more about your department.”

“Well, one of our specialties is investing in talent, nurturing it and turning it into something truly spectacular. It’s not like other companies, where the higher-ups stifle their creative staff, wanting only profit. They want profit, to be sure, but we’re given freedom to work, and help achieving that aim where necessary.”

That certainly sounded hopeful, though Mia would need to be sure of some more specifics before she arranged any kind of deal. She certainly wasn’t going to give up her independence to work in an office, but she was sure that she could come to some arrangement with their CEO if her work passed inspection.

“What about you? What inspires you to paint?”

It was something she was always asked, and something Mia had found very difficult to answer at first, but she had been through this so many times that she rolled her answer out by rote without thinking about it much.

“I’ve had a troubled past, with lots of ugliness. Painting things of beauty brings me peace and joy. I love to find the wonder in things I see and imagine and bring them to life to inspire others.”

“That does sound inspiring. I’d love to see some of your work.”

“Of course. Please, follow me.”

Mia had spent an hour making sure the lighting in the showing room was just right. She held out an arm in invitation, indicating for Archer to go ahead of her.

He stepped slowly into the room, his eyes roving over the paintings. Unsurprisingly, he went to the city one first. “Truly spectacular,” he murmured. “I see they didn’t exaggerate your talent. What gave you the inspiration for this one?”

“I travel for work sometimes, and I always take photos when I see something striking. I refer back to those to remind myself of what I saw and how I felt, then I take that as inspiration for my paintings. This particular one was taken in Denver. It’s not exactly like the photo—I took some artistic license—but the feeling of it is the same.”

“Beautiful. I see it’s not much like your other works.”

“That’s right—I usually go for natural scenes. It’s sometimes nice to do something different, though. It keeps things interesting.”

Archer nodded as he moved over to a painting of a magnificent waterfall. Mia remembered how long it had taken her to get the foam just right and was pleased to see him eyeing it appreciatively.

“I see you work under the name Illuven. Does that have any particular meaning?”

“I kind of made it up. It comes loosely from Eru Ilúvatar, from Lord of the Rings. The sound of it evokes images of light for me. It was just a silly pen name at first, something I thought I’d test out to see how my early works did. I didn’t want to work under my real name in the beginning. If I didn’t do well under Illuven, I could easily change to another nickname. However, I did well as Illuven and saw no reason to change it.”

“That’s an interesting story. Stuff like that adds depth to your profile as an artist. Have you ever explained it formally?”

“No, but I’ve never really had occasion. I don’t have enough of a fanbase yet to release formal statements.”

“Well, hopefully we can change that.”

Archer asked a few more questions, but mostly, he just appreciated the artwork. Mia could tell that he was impressed, but was he impressed enough to recommend her to his undoubtedly very busy boss?

“Thank you, Mia, this has been most enlightening. I understand that you’re part of Elite Artworks’ exhibition next week?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m going to tell our CEO in no uncertain terms that she needs to be there.”

Mia resisted the urge to whoop and leap into the air. Instead, she smiled at Archer, hoping she didn’t come off as giddy as she felt. “Thank you, Archer. I look forward to meeting your CEO.”

“Thank you, Mia. This has truly been a treat. All the best—I hope to be working with you soon.”

Mia was too excited to settle into anything when she got home. She eventually gave up on work and went for a walk. She snapped a great photo of a puppy playing in the autumn leaves, vaguely thinking of doing a painting replacing the sidewalk around it with a soft forest floor.

When she got home, she was finally able to work.

Mia was working on one more painting for the exhibition, which was almost finished—a vibrant green jungle. As much as she liked the painting, she wasn’t feeling inspired to work on it right now. She was drawn to the painting she had started last night—the one of the strong, capable woman with eyes that seemed to see right through her and the body of a goddess.

She was lying on her side in a field of brightly colored flowers at dawn, completely naked. Her hair was spread out behind her and her face lit by the rising sun.

Usually, it would be difficult to perfect a painting like this in a week, but when Mia felt fired up with inspiration like she did now, she could easily work for fifteen hours a day on it. Of course, she couldn’t maintain that kind of thing for long, but after the exhibition, things should calm down.

It would likely be some time before the investors got back to her—they would need to discuss it with their various committees—and Mia would have time to relax before hopefully diving into her next venture.

She painted late into the night, and for the first time in about three months, she had a night free of nightmares. She instead saw beautiful women among flowers, beckoning for her to join them.

Mia did.