Chapter Text
Kylo’s playlist:
"Local God" - Everclear
"E-Bow The Letter" – REM
"Overkill" – Colin Hay
"Bull In The Heather" – Sonic Youth
"Man In The Box" – Alice In Chains
"Teardrop" - Massive Attack
“Be my Romeo,
Tell me all about your love,
Tell me all about your pain,
Baited breath and rubber gloves...”
Kylo fidgeted with the earphone he wasn’t currently using, only half listening to his professor droning on and on about under-appreciated artists and the “joy of the obscure”. He huffed a small sound of indignation; as if these plebs knew anything about the obscure. They probably still thought Damien Hirst and Banksy were edgy. Why they were even discussing this, Kylo had no idea. They’d been working on a completely different brief until he arrived. A new professor, a last-minute replacement after the usual guy called in sick a few weeks back. Not surprising; he was so old and decrepit it was amazing he was still standing and hadn’t just turned to dust already. All his art school professor were the same; boring, tweedy, and old-fashioned.
Kylo wasn’t sure at all about the replacement. He was eager and easily excited, keen to know every detail of what you were working on. Kylo preferred keeping his own council, sitting alone with his music on until he found himself needing guidance. Even then, he’d approach his professor, ask his question as quietly as possible, then retreat. He’d cut his hand off before he raised it for help as often as some of his classmates. Much to Kylo’s chagrin, the man had taken to walking around the perimeter of the room and hanging over Kylo’s shoulder to watch him work. Sometimes silently, sometimes offering advice, always annoying. He was in college for fucks sake, he didn’t need someone holding his hand.
Sheets of paper were making their way around the class, passing from row to row and eventually filtering back to Kylo in his corner. Wow, he thought, this is every bit as uninspired as I expected. The brief boiled down to: Find a relatively obscure artist, study their work, write an essay about it. Scintillating stuff. He crammed it into his notebook as he dragged himself out of his chair and joined the crowd filtering out of the classroom. He could hear his classmates chatting about the artists they might choose, names like Hussar, Ryden, and McPherson floating back to him. How original. Were any of them capable of looking further than Instagram for inspiration? No, they were happy to accept whatever dross websites like Deviant Art and Tumblr spoon-fed into their subconscious. He rolled his eyes, ramming his earphone back in and pushing past them to stalk into the rain.
Research was Kylo’s favourite part of a new project. Even if he wasn’t particularly enthralled with the subject matter, he enjoyed the challenge. Finding inspiration in the strangest of places then developing ideas over and over until he was sick of looking at them but knew he was so, so close to it. The idea. The one that he would spend weeks and months agonising over, pouring blood, sweat and tears into, sometimes literally, until he was...well, as close to happy as any artist ever is with their work. The sleepless nights and hungry days would all be worth it when he finally added the final brushstroke and called it quits. Part of him had learned to tolerate deadlines; he never felt his work was quite finished, but meeting hand-in dates had taught him to learn to live with good enough. It was almost freeing, in a way. Like he could abdicate responsibility for the quality of his work. If one of his professors felt his work was lacking in some way, well then that was their fault for not giving him enough time.
Time was most definitely not on his side with this brief. He only had a week before he had to present his initial research, and he still had to find an artist to write about. He felt a stab of envy about his classmates; if he was willing to compromise his ethics, he could have a name and a rough draft ready to hand over in a matter of hours. But no, that was just not the way he worked. Couldn’t work. Deep down he knew it was pretentious, but he couldn’t bear the idea of doing the same as everyone else, of being part of a crowd and not having anything interesting or unique to contribute. His ex had once called him a hipster, and Kylo had sulked for a week. Partly because he worried it might be true, partly because it was a bit rich coming from a trust fund pseudo-hippy. At least Kylo wasn’t posting mock inspirational tripe on Instagram, though his entire feed was carefully curated to match his particular aesthetic.
His aesthetic was currently being rained on, which just exacerbated his foul mood. His beanie was soaked through and his hair was stuck to his face, making him agitated and in even more of a rush to get home. He cranked the volume up on Alice In Chains and kicked a puddle, bitterly regretting it when it soaked the front of his jeans.
*****
Kylo almost walked right past the bookstore at first, such was his hurry to get to the bus stop and then home to a lukewarm shower and a dinner of instant noodles. It was a flash of orange in the otherwise grey vista that caught his eye, and he turned just as he was almost past the building. The orange blur wove in and out of view, and Kylo just managed to suppress a scream of fright when it leapt right up to the window, showing itself to be a huge ginger cat. Once over the initial shock, Kylo saw he was standing outside a second-hand book store. Usually he wouldn’t darken the doorstep of a shop like that, preferring the ease and simplicity of Amazon shopping, but a bookstore with a sign inside that said ‘ART HISTORY’ felt a bit too portentous to pass up. Or at least that’s what his ex would’ve called it, probably in a swirly, handwritten font. He tugged his earphones out and stepped into the unknown.
The bell above the door chimed obnoxiously as Kylo edged into the store, trying to make his huge frame smaller as best he could, overcome by that weird feeling everyone gets when they walk into an unfamiliar place alone. Not that it seemed to matter, the man at the counter didn’t even lift his head from his book. Later he would attempt to rationalise it by blaming it on his ‘artistic eye’, but he couldn’t help but stop and stare for a minute, marvelling at the way this guys hair perfectly matched the cat that was currently weaving through his own ankles against his sodden jeans. He made a mental note to apologise for getting the poor thing wet, and made his way towards his section.
It wasn’t a large store, just really one room bisected by a wall, a counter at the top of the first aisle, opposite the door, but the roof was high and the walls were full to the rafters with books. It was surprisingly imposing, but the ghostly sound of the intro to Massive Attack’s “Angel” made it less so. He turned left at the counter, the employee still not paying him the slightest bit of attention, and down the other aisle to the Art History area. Which kind of turned out to be a shelf. It wasn’t completely without merit, but Kylo was fairly sure “The Private Lives of the Impressionists” wasn’t going to help him much. A few books about graffiti and, strangely, a Banksy-illustrated copy of “And The Ass Saw The Angel” by Nick Cave were the only other books that caught Kylos attention. He was pondering the wisdom of buying the novel when his ears finally picked up an insistent noise, and he turned to see the same ginger cat batting at the arm of the man at the counter. The man who still wasn’t looking up from his book, instead giving the cat an absent-minded scratch on the head before pushing it gently off the counter top.
Kylo turned away again, momentarily taken aback by the music changing to ‘Pets’ by Porno For Pyros. This situation was getting stranger by the minute. Not that he could complain about the choice in music, but he wasn’t necessarily expecting to hear it in a dusty old second hand bookstore where the friendliest member of staff was a cat. He took a few seconds to let the music wash over him, Perry Farrell’s voice kneading his muscles and loosening his bones just like it always had. Ok, so he might not have found anything to help with his project here, but it had reminded him of a loved song which almost made him smile, so that was enough excitement for one day. Sliding the book back into it’s space, he hummed to himself as he made to leave,
His moment of distraction proved costly; the cat had obviously tired of trying to engage it’s owner and had instead returned to twine itself around Kylo’s legs, a fact Kylo discovered when he went to walk and found his way blocked. Instead he tripped over the animal and fell, twisting as he went down and landing hard on his ass, head knocking into the shelving behind him. Stars flashed behind his eyes and he felt like his spine had been rammed into his brain.
“Oh my god, are you ok?” Kylo could barely hear the voice shouting over the pounding in his head, pain and embarrassment making his face flush bright red. A pale face came into view, and through his blurry vision he saw red hair and thought the bastard cat had come back to finish him off. His vision started to clear and he could see the worried face of the previously uninterested employee, who was now staring at him with a worried look in his very blue eyes. Oh wow, he thought blearily, They’re some blue-ass eyes. They’re, like...cerulean. He shook his head, trying to bring everything back into focus, and tried to stand up. His vision instantly swam again and he sank back down to the ground, the stranger guiding him by the elbow.
“I am so, so sorry, sir. That blasted cat, she does this all the time. She’s more bother than she’s worth but she came with the building.” Kylo could tell the man was babbling but he didn’t seem to mind, now that his head was clearing he could make out the clipped English accent. He waved the man away and made to stand again, pulling himself up on the bookcase.
“I’m fine, honestly, it’s fine” He laughed lightly and instantly winced as it made his head throb. “I can’t honestly say I’ll forgive your cat that easily though.” The man smiled apologetically and collected Kylos bag from where it had fallen.
“Hmm, you say that now but Millicent has her ways. She worms her way back into everyone’s affections eventually.” He still looked concerned when he looked back to Kylo though, handing him his bag. “Are you sure you’re alright? You still look a bit shaky. Would you like a cup of tea, maybe?”
Kylo hesitated, knowing he was in a hurry and also rarely in the mood to interact with strangers, but truth be told he was a bit shaken. He was also freezing now that he’d dried off from being out in the rain, and a hot drink sounded damn good right about now.
“Yeah...yeah, actually that sounds nice. I’m Kylo, by the way.”
The man smiled again, brighter this time, “Nice to meet you Kylo, my name’s Hux.”