He was exhibiting his paintings but my eyes stuck to him as if he was live art to me.
He was live art, alright.
I didn’t need to understand him, know him. No, I didn’t even need to see him, literally.
But I felt him and I felt about him – deeply.
The grey shirt clung onto his body showing his perfect lean body and his shyness was cute.
It was an art of social anxiety,
and he was a masterpiece, alright.
The painter shone brighter than his paintings,
even though he tried his best to blend in the sea.

He existed only in pages and yet made me feel more than IRL ever did.
He’s the male protagonist of “The Client” by Kimber Lee. KanyeInterruptedMe on Wattpad. That woman is amazing! Her other stories… *wipes drool off my chin* “The Dilf”… wow.

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