BENT: The Ballad of a Gender Bender 1/?

Author: Niq Caidic-Roman/Unanimo
Language: English
Genre: Romance, Drama, Humor, Adult
Warnings: Some themes and languages are not suitable for minors
Status: On going


Chapter I 


She had a life with a different perspective. Some call her gifted, witty, vibrant and everything in between. And some…well, flaws if you may, as Katalina had a long list of her unexpected behavior that will reveal by itself in the future.

Graduated as Cum Laude at the age of nineteen from respected universities and considered as one of the aspiring youth ever made into a one-man—or shall we say—one-woman art show, despite of her youthfulness, she made a name and bested her peers. What amuses the critiques mostly was Katalina’s technique happens to be much advance for her age, and four years later, the critiques christened her by the name of ‘golden hand’ and became one of the most well known surreal artists in local and abroad.

This young woman from a well-known family was a goal-minded, always determine to win, and thus she always win. No one in this world could stop her from committing success. No one can stop her gaining dignity and victory. She had it all; fame, fortune, name. A young age of twenty-four nonetheless earned the honor of a fifty year-old veteran. However, or others may say, all things come with a price. Hence it was true. All of these honor, reputation and wealth reduced and frosted her freedom. She did make her own way to the top, but the height became her greatest fear.

When she turned twenty-seven, her whole persona changed. She became bored, snob and egotistical. The tiring gestures she made at the parties, television shows and huge corporate events became her little world. She can’t even remember when was the last time she decides what to wear or what time to brush her teeth. She was all locked up from the outside world, confined and converted into corporate monkey who always tell when to dance and when to halt. Hell, she even endorsed some brands she can’t even recognize.

This is not the kind of life she’s dreaming about. Yes, she’s infamous, earning as much as six figures a week from her appearance alone, not including the price of her work. But it was all tiring, and the people around her starting to tear up her dream.

All good things come with a price. No shit.

She would cut her ear like Van Gough did just to make them go away.

And she did make them go away as her ‘issue’ suddenly burst out of nowhere. The last exhibit she made was a complete disaster, opposed to the ones she had made before. She did that on purpose. She did that to make them believe she’s gone insane so that she can go back where she could start a new beginning of her life.

But all things come with a price, like they said. The critiques and her own supporters dropped her like a rug on the floor. The years of crafting her name disappeared in just a day. The Kat ‘Golden Hand’ Grant became nothing more but a common stupid.

Moronic? Yes, with an absolute freedom, nonetheless…

Chastising away from the world of celebrities as she was once considered by critics, was great impeccable timing indeed for Kat. When her own manager declined her existence, she met a young man named Matt. An ordinary man ordained to rule her world. The handsome, tall, bedroom-brown-eyed boy that so perfect for her... or so she thought he was. Kat doesn’t care if he belongs to an ordinary world, differ to her own. What makes important was he loved her. The two get along after few months, became a couple and had a blissful relationship. Kat thought she had it all when Matt came to her life.

Anyway he thought the same way, but until Kat fucked up again.

Kat never lost the limelight of her name, really. Like hibernating, it made her popular even more. The ‘Golden Hand’ became the ‘Bad Girl’ when the beast inside her sprawled out. Her talent was set aside and her behavior was emphasized. She’s a feast from the eyes of any reporters, newspapers and magazines; labeling her as the greatest and the worst.

She doesn’t need to paint again… that was she said. “I am the icon itself. I don’t need them.”

Well, we’ll just see about that.

TBC
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BENT: The Ballad of a Gender Bender

Author: Unanimo

Language: English

Genre: Romance, Drama, Humor, Adult

Warnings: Some themes and languages are not suitable for minors

Status: On going

Prologue

Walking slowly at the spacious and well-lighted room of the Schaeffer Gallery, Dean Stratmore, CEO and Co-Founder of Indio Arte was examining the area, glancing here and there at the colorful and monotone paintings of famous local artists with calculating eyes, making sure if he did the right thing to designate the artworks into an alphabetical order. Sure some of the want-to-be artist and the likes were pissed off about the results, but their annoying debates had finally ended up with Dean’s decision few days ago.
 

He’s the boss, why do they bother anyway.

Smiling inwardly, Dean’s recollections few days ago was kind of… comical. As far as he knew himself, other than a business man, he was strict and conscious when it comes to his gallery. But what happened few days ago made him wonder why he did such a conclusion. Maybe because he intended to line the artist as equal or maybe just to shut them up.

The gallery’s due opening within three days and the interior was already settled. There are one hundred and thirty-two paintings on display and it all belongs to a group of recently Likha Awardees, ages twenty-two to thirty. Their works were not that bad, maybe splendid to others but hardly satisfactory for Dean himself. He’s a little dismayed every time he sees a painter revised or rather embracing too much influence from their iconic idols which made them almost their clone.

If isn’t about the money…

“They are all amateurs,” Dean murmured. “Mixing paints then splashing across the canvas… what a waste. You are all amateurs.”

After the long staring from wall to wall, arms across his chest, he stepped back and walked to another hallway. There, where the hall was lightly lit, he took his keys and opened a huge door at the end corner. This room was strictly forbidden for those who are not welcome. This door was his own sanctuary, a place where he filed his own memory.

He entered slowly and turned on the lights. He smiled, really smiled. His eyes were set narrowly at the center of the room, which the painting of his friend displayed.

The famous artist…

The famous young artist…

The famous young but dead artist…

And then and there, the name encrypted below the painting made Dean cried.

“Reminiscing again?”

Shaking his mind clandestinely without pinning away from the painting, he smiled as he expected an old-age woman with ash colored hair appeared by the threshold of the door.

“Are you ready?” she asked slowly before she stood beside him. “The gallery will open soon.”

“Our gallery will open in three days,” he corrected and then finally glanced at her. “Don’t forget you owned it too.”

“Partially,” she mirrored Dean’s expression. “Secretly and partially, don’t forget to add that too.”

He considered that note for a while then glanced back at the painting. The silence in between them was annoying; Dean hated this part for he knew she’s about to say something. But before she could do that, he started to move away.

“Do you pity me?” she asked finally while noting the melancholy look in his eyes. She sighed and stepped ahead towards the door. “Don’t look at me like that, it makes me feel guilty.”

Dean stood for a moment and then gazed back at the painting. “No, Kat. I don’t… never did.”

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