The Notes of Brianna Hildenburrow: Candidate Number Three

Red-hair, hazel eyes, strangely serious, beautiful, wearing a sweater and slacks, scowling at me like I plan on kidnapping her, smells like dirt?

Bri finished taking her first notes and nodded at the list. What else could an artist ask for in a subject?

The woman’s hands were folded neatly in her lap and her back perfectly straight like a nun was planning on wapping her shoulders at any moment. She had on practical walking shoes, comfortable dark pants, and a pinched expression on her face. It all foretold of someone who didn’t “get” musicals and didn’t believe in astrology. It was perfect.

Now all Bri had to do was name the right price to keep her around. She blinked at the woman, “Name and age?” She prompted again to draw her out. Another tense silence stretched on until the woman relented.

“I’m Paige,” she said slowly and Bri typed that down with precise keystrokes that were slightly more noisy than necessary. “I’m 27. And I…” She stared at her feet for a moment before jerkily standing up, “I dunno.” She pivoted toward the front door. “I should probably go.”

Bri’s eyes went wide and she stood up like a linebacker trying to protect their quarterback which happened to be the front door. “Hey,” She waved her hands back and forth through the air. “You just got here. We can go over details--”

“No.” Paige shook her head. “No offense, but this is like a sketchy craigslist ad that you hear about on the news after it goes wrong. I don’t know anything about art anyway.”

Bri’s brow folded inward, “I’m not sketchy, really. Look at me,” she spread her arms out wide, “I’m barely 5’2. What could I possibly do to you?”

Paige studied her. “You are quite small.” She said with a curt nod and Bri restrained herself from kicking her potential muse in the shins. “But that’s really not the point.”

“And what about the money?” Bri breathed because she loved to take advantage of capitalist blackmail. Paige’s eyes trained on her.

“I can just go get a real job.” She said apprehensively.

“But I’ll pay more.” Bri bargained. “Listen, I saved up for the last two years in order to quit my job and try to make it as an artist and I’m not going to give up now.”

“You quit your job!?” Paige was not impressed.

Bri drew herself up to her full height of an oversized garden gnome. “I took a chance. And what is a dream but something that must be chased? What is a chase but the sacrifice of self to the terrifying ordeal of possibility?”

“What?” Paige said flatly and took a step back since she obviously didn’t appreciate Shakespearean soliloquies. “But you quit your job.”

“At a bank.” Bri nodded. “And it was a decent job so I can pay you decent money.” Alright, so Bri didn’t have that much money saved, but she could swing for at least a couple months.

Paige looked her up and down and then hesitantly edged toward the couch again. “And no funny business?” She said with a click of her tongue. “I won’t have to inspire you through…” Her cheeks tinted slightly, “like that scene from Titanic or anything?”

Bri snorted with her whole body. “You mean the nude drawing scene or the part where we both drown in frigid ice water?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Well I’m hoping you won’t drown me either way.”

Bri shrugged and felt a little more settled. “We’ll see how this goes.” Paige opened her mouth to respond but Bri plowed ahead. “Fifteen bucks an hour! Only a couple hours a week.”

Paige leaned forward at the money. “And what would that look like?”

Bri smiled pleasantly and put her computer back on her lap. “I could follow you around some days or we would go to the botanical gardens or sit outside in a rainstorm or talk to strangers on their front porches for hours or feed stray dogs in a sunbaked alleyway while cop sirens go off in the background somewhere.”

Paige’s mouth had now fallen open. “What would any of that accomplish?”

“I’m trying to make art.” Bri pouted and returned to her list of questions. “What’s your job then?”

“I’m a PhD student.” She said and still hadn’t sat down again. “I work as a TA and doing fieldwork… soon at least.”

“Cool, cool,” Bri typed dutifully. “I don’t suppose you study the arts in any way?”

She looked away, “No. Biochemistry.”

Bri nodded like she knew what that entailed. “Are you free in the mornings?”

Paige wilted in place. “I still don’t know about this…”

“It’ll be a trial run.” Bri beamed at her and Paige cocked her head to the side. “I’m telling you, this will work. I’ll dedicate my poetry book to you when I’m done! I’ll immortalize you.”

Paige coughed to her fist and muffled a small laugh. “I don’t know about all that.” She looked into Bri’s eyes and there was some light there. “But it’s your money to do with how you like.”

Bri winked. “And more fun than retail.”

Paige shifted in place. “My turn. I have a question.” Paige said after a long pause and Bri could have punched the air. It felt like it was working, she was getting her. “What’s the point?” Paige asked slowly, “What are you getting at?”

Bri hummed in the back of her throat. “Love poems.” She said and didn’t look up. “People eat them up. The most successful poetry books are always books of love poems and I want to be successful as fuck.”

Paige’s eyes went wide. “Uh.” She glanced at the door again. “Love poems?”

“Don’t worry.” Bri put her hand up. “I might be an artist, but I’m not stupid. I know all that sugary crap is just fluff people like to indulge in.” She sniffed and scratched her chin, “I don’t actually believe in any of it. I won’t fall in love with you.”

Paige frowned. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Bri arched an eyebrow. “It’s all just to help with the process. And if you feel uncomfortable at any point with the romance aspect I can just delete those ones.”

Paige inhaled and looked away. “Don’t use my name.” She said with that stony expression. “No names, no details, none of it.”

“Sure.” Bri put her hand out. “I’ll just call you my muse.”

Paige stared at her hand abjectly and then glanced at her face. She mouthed something along the lines of ‘is she for real?’ But Bri wiggled her fingers in midair and Paige reached out as well.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She muttered and Bri firmly squeezed her her hand. They shook.