MODIFY ME

Perhaps I should introduce myself like the insane gentleman I am; my name is Adrian. Secrety I thought it used to have resemblance to the demon child of Rosemary´s Baby that would be raising my expectations way too much.
I am twenty nine years old and was born in the Year of the Rabbit; 1981 to be exact.
A humble messenger is my fate; am artist just passing by but if you wish to hear this tale of mine I´ll tell it backwards and it´s no lie.
It´s strange how you start with an ending. I say every ending is followed up by a new beginning.
My ending consisted of a breakup and I was consumed. If there ever was a name for this part of my life I´d name it.
VULNERABLE.
Like a rabbit except I wasn´t free in the wild forest that was called New York; it was an old rusty cage down the streets of Manhattan.
- Rusty Cage
It was my workplace where I felt secure; a big ass loft  that I´ve been sharing for a while with a variety of strange folk; most of them were men. September arrived, so did the deadlines and I was halfway through a new collection of acrylics for a solo exhibition in some fancy, cutting edge gallery in Chelsea.


That week I was supposed to be receiving another assistant to move in and my strongest bet was a girl named Edith Paige who was in her freshman year in NYU.
We had only met online. At first I wasn´t fully convinced but decided to try something new.
It was Wednesday and it had been drizzling. I headed down to the corner of Prince and Mercer Street around five in the afternoon  She was standing there with her arms thrown on her back with a very optimistic look.
Edith was like the storybook Alice; she was raven-haired with bangs, milky white skin, blue eyes, abit scrawny. It was a shame I wasn´t into girls.
I lived above one of those psychic shops which was owned by a lady named Ava who is very solicited.
We continued to make small talk in the elevator; I could noticed she was frittering and somewhat avoiding me.
"The name´s Adrian Black by the way; sorry if I keep going online by odd usernames. What should I call you?"
"Edie is fine."
"Strange; like Edie Sedgwick."
"Yeah except I´m not that beautiful and rich like he was."
"Oh, don´t be that disencouraged; everyone here looks like a rockstar. I´m simply white trash from Ohio who got lucky."
"Maybe my luck will change as well."
"Why this place is just around the corner for you, isn´t it?" I said.
"Oh, absolutely! But how did you manage to snatch this loft just like this?"
"It was no walk in the park, I´ll tell you that. You have to be some kind of artist. The former owner was Edward King. There was an urban legend that he used to lurk the campus at 3 AM because he went sleepless ."
"Well, that´s intriguing!" she cried. "I haven´t heard of that story."
"I wanted to be here so badly because I prefer to have a piece of history around me instead of something brand new. And because I´m a sucker for nostalgia."
"How come?"
"Because all people live or dead leave an invisible trace behind. Say like burned toast."
"Now you´re quoting Mr. Hallorann in "The Shining"! she cried.
"Are you some kind of film geek?"
"No but I have a very keen memory."
"And I'm an artist, it's not that unusual to have some scars in my life to inspire me. Actually I wondered if that was my fate; to have a tormented existence watching everyone around me being hurt or let me hurt them back.”
“God no,” she said swinging her hand in mid air, “you’re too young to be carrying too much grief, what are you, twenty something...”
“I’ll be thirty next january.”
“Oh, that’s bad, that’s way too bad,” she said cynically. “In a number of societies and subcultures being over twenty means that you’re practically washed up.”
“I’m not old!” I replied, “I’m just experienced. How about you?"
"Was that a trick question?" she snapped. "Well; I came all the way down from Michigan to major in Psychology.  I want to fix people´s minds, that´s all."
"You could never finish your work in a city like this! We´re all mad here. I´m mad, you´re mad."
"How can I be mad?" she asked.
"You must be; otherwise you shouldn´t have come here."
"Wait that sounds familiar; Alice In Wonderland, right?"
"Yeah, you got me. As a kid I used to quote it all the time; it applies to a lot of things in this crazy world."
"What other things?"
"Success in life. It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that! I´m always ahead of my competitors."
"You have competitors?"
"All artists are like that. Secretly we want to devour each other. The rest of the time we´re poking each others´ egos. Only a small number are your actual friends."
"Right. I´m not so much into that because I´m a real down to earth person."
"Stick with me and I´ll show you some of my work and tell me what you think."
"Are you any good?"
"I´m a badass. I always get what I want."

Away from all the high end shops and decadent flair of Soho was my private fifty five hundred square foot lair which was a literal flashback to the nineties. My comrades lived in a large set of vinyls and CD´s which were most of the time old Johnny Cash and Nine Inch Nails.
"There are two levels and a terrace up here. It´s like a freaking mansion with ghosts and all."
"Why are you saying that?" she laughed, "are you trying to scare me out of here?"
"No; I´m dead serious. There´s something bad here. No one believes it, of course but it´s an amusing story. Just like the one right here."
The entrance or foyer consisted of a large brick wall decorated with a copy of a painting I entitled "Home." The theme was a giant hole with a mixed media technique mostly acrylic and in the style of abstract expressionism.
"I have no idea what it means but the use of color is incredible. So you say this is a copy, where´s the original one?"
"It was sold to some art collector in London. I was lucky that she appreciated my earliest work."
"How is it that I know so little about your work?"
"You really need to get out more. Come; I´ll show you the way to kitchen because I could really use a drink. What´s your poison?"
"Oh, no thanks, really."
"I insist but don´t worry I don´t bite. My teeth might are too worn our anyway."
"You have a big imagination, Adrian."
"Yeah, among other things."

Edie was a swell tenant. She asked me why would I could choose for a girl who has nothing to do with the art world to live here. It was simply because she wouldn´t be such a huge distraction. Later on I would refer to her as my "non-artistic follower" with my colleagues in reference to the insane regulations of Soho living.
Her constant need to question and analyze everything served me well. Little by little I confessed her about my ill-fated relationship. She was eager to know because there were moments where I failed to express any emotions; I stood by the large windows in my studio.
The day the world went away
"Is everything alright?" she said one afternoon. "Or is it the rain that´s making you all melancholy?"
"Sorry, I didn´t notice you were here. What time is it?"
"Around six thirty. You don´t like to keep track of time, huh?"
"I used to but then I became very obsessive and I didn´t like who I was back then. I felt like a goddamn slave."
"I´m sorry, did I make you feel uncomfortable? I was going to make myself some tea; do you want to join me?"
"Now that´s something I can never refuse."

I wish I was actually doing portraits because Edie never looked so wonderful that afternoon; her little blue navy halter dress that went well with her sapphire like eyes. At least I could take a picture for the impression to last longer. It wasn´t a hint of attraction but she was mesmerizing.
"Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes."


"I feel unapologetic with you," I said.
"How come?"
"I haven´t told you about my previous tenant."
"That´s ok; you don´t have to tell me everything."
"You do it all the time; from the moment you´re out in the street till you come back."
"Would this confession be something I´m not supposed to hear?"
"No but you may have seen the majority of my online pictures with a certain Daniel Hyde."
"Oh, yeah; the model, what about him?"
"He´s my ex."
"I knew that! That´s not such a big mystery. Here, this is a special blend red tea. It helps to relax."
"Red; my favorite color besides black. You don´t the whole story, do you?"
"I´m not into gossip or prying into people´s lives, Adrian."
"Please do! It will help your career, I promise."
"Alright so what happened between you to?"
"Well," I said as I proceeded to take a sip of tea, "This is rather good,by the way. He´s the main reason why I was all lethargic just a few moments ago."
She said laughing, "So why didn´t you say so in the first place?"
"I´m a gentleman despite my deviate lifestyle. I feel so timid around you that I don´t want to scare you so much. Anyway, Daniel came into to live here like all the rest but he´s still impossible to forget."
"My, this doesn´t sound like small talk anymore..."
We took our conversation elsewhere to the living room exactly where I had my huge black leather couch; that´s where I crashed most of the time when I was fully exhausted.
"He had the hots for me since day one. I didn´t care at all because I´m fully concentrated in my paintings. There is an unwritten rule here that whenever I requested for a new exhibition no one and I said no one can ever disturb me."
"Just like now?"
"Sort of. I must work under very specific conditions in the style of Edward K. There are hours where I am severly productive like at eleven or three in the morning. Sometimes I stay up all night and sleep in the daytime. Even my agent knows; it´s effective."
"I have noticed that."
"It takes a while to get used to. Danny didn´t fully understand this so at the beginning he begged me to go to sleep. As soon as he entered my studio which is cluttered all the time not messy he even began to act in an unsual way."
"Define unusual."
"In this case being lustful was unusual for me. He wasn´t like that before. You would have said he was waiting for the right moment to strike me.
So I was in there doing my thing when suddenly he grabbed my waist but his hands were incredibly cold."
"And then?"
"I felt powerless. I tried to set myself free but he kept going. He pulled down my pants and fucked me."
She paused for a moment raising an eyebrow, "And you didn´t put any resistance, did you?"
"I honestly did! Like I said I was so concentrated, possessed even. I was thinking that maybe it would all clear up the next day but it got worse."
"In which sense?"
"He wanted control; it was something I couldn´t give him no matter what. We had an agreement."
"Why didn´t you just throw him out?"
Then it was me who paused.
"Daniel was so great in bed; that´s what."
"Well, I think that pretty much wraps it up. This is completely irrelevant to me!"
"Don´t be mad. I had a very hard time swallowing it."
"Really? How?"
"Actually I might be depressed right now but I can´t notice it because I have too much stuff on my head."
"Adrian, I´m not mad but I think you´re playing the victim here when you knew damn well what he was up to. I see no reason to weep for that bastard."
"I´m still going with the theory that there´s something bad here. You know, I´m glad you came along."

But I knew this piece of advice would not be enough; it was a wound that was still fresh. Unbelievable as it sounds Daniel was the Queen and I was nothing but a loyal subject. My failed attempt to seek help from the outside worsened these episodes of deep silence.

FRIGHT-DAY

I flashbacked to Elyria, the town I grew up in where I felt like a total fish out of water. I was never the ugly, chubby kid with glasses who played Dungeons and Dragons all the time; it was just plain old me.
When I was about five my parents had me diagnosed because they were under the impression that I was one of those autistic dudes who kept staring at the wall the time bouncing a rubber ball.
Then they suggested I should express myself with art and so I did; it was so delightful! The crayon was like a little magic wand in my hand. It never occurred to me to draw something I found attractive but just anger I had stuck in my head. Those were basically my afternoons having the backyard as my playground.
Like that day. Things haven´t changed much; it was still chaotic. Inside my studio time stops. There are no watches except for the ones that might be in computers and gadgets. It´s particularly cold, below sixty degrees and I like to paint half naked.
That Friday night Edie was away at one of those mixers and wouldn´t return for several hours.
Eleven out of twenty two paintings were completed now, all with all time favorite theme; rabbits. There was a white dwarf live one which I used as a model which I called Scraps. Edith asked me once why I would call that critter this way and I said that it stood for "the remains or scraps of my innocence." So if he dies then that will make me a heartless person.
Then again it was a metaphor.
Scraps had this interesting black eye patches so the first idea that came to my head was making this large realistic drawing of him simulating smeared makeup. I called it "Wore Too Much Eyeliner."



Or maybe too much wine. Inside a fire ignited my senses; a desire to behead that traitor. He wan´t protective or caring; he was downright selfish.
And why should one be surprised? That was his job, nothing but a beacon for the high standards in men; to dream the impossible dream, to climb the highest mountain. To be exact he acted like a sycophant around me.
I stared in the mirror and saw none of these things. My most attractive feature has always been my olive green eyes complete with a killer smile. I think that´s about enough but certainly not the model type.
taste in men
I stepped away and stood still. For a while I couldn't move let alone breathe normally.
A soft female voice said, "Are you gonna be done soon?"
I couldn't answer, he kept saying, "Good...soon everyone will know our story." He placed her arms around me as she whispered, "Adrian...you still can't get over me, can you?"
Its heavy and icy hand ran across my body and reached inside my pants.
Scraps began to jump inside his cage for he had also felt that goulish presence.
There was too much poison in my system. After that I realized I fell victim to my own stupid words; all people live or dead leave an invisible trace behind.
I collapsed.



"Adrian, are you alright?" Edith found me lying on a red sofa in the same room as if I had fainted.
"Back so soon?" I asked a bit agitated.
"You know maybe I took for granted what you said that day; maybe you are having a bad time and you can´t seem to get over it."
I laughed nervously, "I´m not there yet but I´ve been spacing out a lot lately."
"Oh; you´re not cold?"
"I´ve gotten used to it."
"Not me; practically the only thing I could complain about living here is that it´s so drafty."
"So how did that thing go?"
"It was okay. I turns out that a guy I used to date in middle school is taking the same courses like me. He looks so different now; it´s amazing how people change and somehow manage to disappoint you so quickly."
"So what do you seek in men, really?"
"Somehow who just respects me unlike who prefers to go out with boys from a cover of a magazine."
"You wouldn´t understand; it´s a well preserved secret that can only be told in bed."
"Yeah, well you look like you could use some sleep anyway."
"It´s early for me; I have some stuff to take care of."
"Don´t work too late. See you tomorrow."

I slept in my regular bed for the fear of being visited by another specter. They mustered the words Daniel used to say. Maybe he could have been possessed by any of them but it still didn´t make any sense.

AUTUMN

I decided to have a little reunion with some of my closest friends. I agreed to give them a preview of my collection.

There was Mark and James, the first was helping with some designs and upload some ‘stuff’ to my website which happened to a set of 22 acrylics and mixed media. I had been making this for almost two goddamn years and it finally saw the light. Though at the beginning I didn’t have the slightest clue of what I was going to create for a solo exhibition (a breakthrough for any artist) I decided to make the most deranged schedule I could think of choosing certain hours like 11 PM or 3 AM. They didn’t make sense back then and they don’t now. They are coincidences but I secretly wanted to provoke something.


“So is true this place is haunted? I heard some wild tales, you know...” said Mark.



I laughed politely, “That’s what the previous owner said. He used to be a painter as well but lesser known than me. They say he used to come with ouija boards to see if he could invoke the spirit...”



“What spirit?”



I said while I swiveled a half empty glass of red wine, “That’s the thing, no one knows and no one will, but it’s been around for a long time, back when this place was known as Hell’s Hundred Acres.”



“Sick, and if you saw it could you deal with that?” said Mark.



I stared with the eyes of a lost boy, “We’ll have to find out.”



Edith smiled and clapped once, “Well, you see he´s always full of surprises!”