14
CHRIS
Outside the building and approaching the door, Chris had a spring in his step and a positive outlook on life. Why wouldn't he? He'd met a nice man the day before, and he had a date to look forward to the day after. This particular Friday, he was meeting a gallery owner in North London who also happened to be an old friend.
The gallery itself was a modernized Victorian factory with 1930s alterations. As such, it was vast, airy, and perfect for displaying big works of art.
He opened the door, stepped inside. The owner had created a cozy entrance foyer, with sofas and smaller artworks, where wealthy clients were welcomed and encouraged to sit, talk, and buy.
On entering, the sight that greeted Chris sucked all the joy from the atmosphere. Not just one man sitting in the reception area, but two familiar faces.
"Chris." Sebastian was on his feet in a moment, walking to Chris. His crazy blond hair flopped about from side to side. His right arm outstretched for—a handshake? A hug?
"Good afternoon." Chris tried to focus on Sebastian, who pulled him in for a hug. "Great to see you." Chris wished he could ignore the other man in the room but he couldn't. His eyes betrayed him as they kept flickering toward the intruder.
"It's been too long, Chris. Don't become a stranger, just because you're selling so well in the far east." When Sebastian loosed his grip, he turned toward the third man. "I believe you know Jeremy. He's investing in the gallery, and when I told him you are having an exhibition here next year, well, he was very excited about it. I believe you're old friends?"
Friends? Not the word Chris would've used. He looked at Jeremy and nodded stiffly, hoping to hide everything that he felt about the man.
Jeremy was on his feet walking towards Chris, who braced himself for a handshake or whatever unwanted physical contact was coming. He wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the man. Jeremy had apparently tricked his way into this situation by pretending they were friends, rather than ex-boyfriends.
"It's been a long time." Jeremy's handshake was firm and confident.
It could never be long enough.
"If it's okay with you, Chris, as Jerry is an investor in the gallery, perhaps he could stay and discuss your exhibition next year?"
Chris would rather not exhibit than have to deal with slimy, condescending Jeremy of all people. It was not as if Chris couldn't exhibit somewhere else, but withdrawing would have been crazy. This prestigious gallery, in a prime location, had an enviable client list.
Wishing he'd have had the chance to think about this, Chris didn't reply.
Jeremy cocked his head to one side. It was annoying. "I thought it would be a treat to surprise you."
Treat? For whom?
"It certainly is a surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you." And if I never saw you again it would be too soon.
He turned to Sebastian and added, "I'm sure Jeremy doesn't want to stay and be bored by the details of my exhibition." Chris shot Jerry an icy non-verbal warning, hoping he'd take the hint. "He never was a fan of my art."
"I wouldn't say that. You must be thinking of someone else. I've always been one of your greatest cheerleaders. I won't intrude on your work. I have the dates in my diary, and I'll look forward to catching up with you around that time if not sooner. We'll have to meet up when you're here. Just the two of us, catch up, you know. Sometime before your private view."
Over my dead body. Chris opened his mouth to speak but couldn't force any words of politeness between his lips, so he shut his mouth again and nodded.
Jeremy shook hands with Sebastian and then again with Chris and left the gallery.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, which disappeared under his blond mess of a fringe. "Chris, darling? Did I detect a little, shall we say, friction?"
"Darling, if that's what you want to call it. Shall we say, he was never a fan of my art when we were together."
"Oh, Chris, I'm sorry. He told me you were friends, not exes." Sebastian walked through the entrance toward the exhibition space beyond.
Chris shrugged. "I haven't seen him in years. Back then, he had strong views about the kind of art he liked. It wasn't anything of mine."
Sebastian shook his head. "He spoke very highly of you; gave me the impression you were good friends, and that he loves your work. Perhaps his tastes have matured?"
"He's an investor in your gallery, which will be good for you," said Chris. "Perhaps he's matured, but I've moved on a long way since him. I don't need to avoid him, but I'm not keen on spending any time around him if I don't have to.”
"Understood. Are you going to tell me about the work you're planning for this space?"
"Sebastian, your building is perfect for what I am working on. The glass ceiling in the atrium is a work of art, and I plan to incorporate it in the exhibition."
They walked around the building and Chris took some photographs. Even though he'd been to the gallery many times before, he saw it in a new way when preparing for his own work to take the spotlight.
"I want it to be beautiful and impressive, of course, but I'm also thinking of something that has meaning. Political with a small ‘p’. Making use of the glass ceiling as a practical light source, a thing of beauty, and a metaphor. I'm thinking about how women have broken through the glass ceiling, but are still faced with invisible barriers that many people don't acknowledge exist. The same for us, as gay men, and people with HIV. I've a vision of how to incorporate our story in this gallery space."