Chiaroscuro and Catgirls

Most importantly, I don't want progress pictures or reports or nuances or hints of anything that could spoil the surprise. Nor do I want you to rush. It will be done when you're done. Is that acceptable to you, Ellie?

Kirsty

I stared at her message. She was giving me complete control and funding my work.

I went for the offer like a starving weasel climbing a pipe full of meat.

I accept the commission. These are my bank details. Thank you! Thank you so much!

I sipped my tea, then shuddered, feeling for the first time in longer than I could remember that I could just... breathe.

My phone pinged; I glanced down at it and then jerked, startled by what I saw. I shakily set my battered mug aside and picked up my phone.

I stared at it, worrying that I was hallucinating or being pranked...

But no.

Another payment; £300 this time. And, shortly afterwards, an email.

"Ellie" -

I know you said £130, but, and please forgive me for this... you look and sound exhausted. Sleep tonight, and eat properly. Begin when you're ready, and let me know when you're done. There's no rush.

Chat soon. Sorry for being an idiot.

Kirsty.

And I suddenly found myself crying again as all my end-of-month fears about rent and food and... survival... burned away like mist under the bright morning sun.

When I could see and breathe I responded.

I will.

- Vivienne

It was only once I'd sent the message that I realised my lapse... but by then it was far too late.

I'd said yes, after all.

❧

It was evening again, and the autumn wind was howling through the alley outside.

My channel was chaos.

Four hundred and seventy people were online, and others were streaming in minute-by-minute.

I glanced occasionally at the madly-scrolling channel log, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. There was an ongoing low-level feud between several groups watchers; one side appeared to be a bunch of trolls and the other side seemed to be some sort of self-appointed clique of channel guardians.

I tried very hard to ignore the back-and-forth insults and ad-hominems as I did my best to answer those few meaningful questions that came my way through the noise.

I'd chosen a low-cut vee-neck shirt and worn cotton shorts for the evening; both were now dappled with paint from the forest scene I was cobbling together; it would go onto one of the online markets once done, a cheap filler for someone's office, if I were lucky.

mbak318> you have a lovely voice Ellie

I paused at that one, stared at it.

"What do you mean, three-one-eight?" I said.

KikisFanDeliveryService> you were singing "Tightrope"

KikisFanDeliveryService> from Greatest Showman

mbak318> it was awesome, your voice is so mellow, you should record stuff and sell it!

I felt myself flushing red. I hadn't even realised that I was singing; it had been years since I'd had anything to sing about...

CrystalMaze> omg guys she's blushing

JemmasBum> stop teasing her, you guys are such dicks

Jason14> she's so hot :3

mbak318> sing us something else ellie!

I began to laugh; and I had to put my paint down as my laughter cantered swiftly over to the point of hysteria.

"Sorry," I gasped, fighting for control. "Sorry. It's... well, you guys probably know that it's been a wild week so far. It's just... everything is up and down so much, and right now it's up, and I just really, really hope it stays up for a while..."

Jason14> I stay up for a while

RobsPear> omfg dude

Moxie> eeuw

KikisFanDeliveryService> classy - is that 14 your age?

Jason14> it's how many times I boned your mum last night bitch

I stared, trying to control my giggles, as another war of words developed. Then more words caught my eye.

KikisFanDeliveryService> Is it good news, Ellie? I sure hope it is, you deserve some!

I mulled that question over, wondering how much I felt like sharing. People bought my paintings - sometimes. For a song, or the price of a mug of tea, at whatever flea-infested market I'd decided to chance my luck at that month. I'd hoped, I'd prayed, I'd advertised online and thrown good money after bad trying to boost my visibility - all to no avail.

I'd believed, until now, that maybe it wasn't my lot in life - maybe my art was something that I'd eventually just have to let go. Like love, like belonging somewhere - it was something for other people. Perhaps living by and with my art wasn't something for me...

But now...

Now I had hope.

And... maybe it was good luck to share that hope. Let it go out into the Universe again or some such rubbish...

So I took a deep breath before answering.

"Well... I got an actual commission. So... I'm going to go with "maybe"..."

SolarBadger> Omg congrats

CrystalMaze> congrats Ellie!

ElliotP> Oh wow that's so cool, for a landscape?

"Yes. A landscape," I said. I picked up my palette and started to detail a silver birch. "Someone finally liked mine enough to want me to do something specific and not just generic filler for a fiver. God knows it's taken long enough; if it weren't for all of you guys I'd have given up long ago..."

ElliotP> being a creative is hard. my sister's an artist, textiles though, she's exhausted

ElliotP> she spends her life at markets trying to sell anything she can. She works shifts at a grocers

JacobsLadder> it's so cool you got a sale ellie

SolarBadger> can we see it?

"No - there's nothing to see. I haven't started it yet, see. I haven't even bought the materials I need yet - I haven't had time between you guys and my day job..."

SolarBadger> day job?

ElliotP> you work as well, ellie?

And suddenly it was easy to be honest with them.

"Yeah. I do. Zero-hour contract stuff. It doesn't pay enough, so it's you sweethearts that have kept me going these last months," I said.

I sat up straight and stared directly at my camera. "This life? It's... hard. I adore art and painting and I love talking to you guys, but... if my sister or my friends or a niece asked me if it was a good gig? I'd say no. I'd say it's soul-crushing. I'd say do anything else but this. I'm lucky; I have you guys, I get to paint and be me, mostly. And I try to please you guys in whatever way I can. I'm okay, and I have all of you to thank for that. But... other girls? The ones who aren't as lucky, the ones who don't have a thing that's theirs and so have to sell just themselves? I wouldn't want that for anyone I cared for. So... thank you. Thank you for letting me be me..."

I glanced aside and coughed as I tried to clear the sudden lump in my throat.

"But honestly? The... the only reason I'm still here is because of you guys; because you've kept me going. Because what little you are able to give me keeps me going for the month, and the month after that, and the month after that..."

My vision had blurred. My voice was failing me, going husky...

Moxie> oh ellie

KikisFanDeliveryService> :(

CrystalMaze> ellie no please don't cry

"I'm okay..." I gulped "I'm okay. It's okay. I'm okay now. I've got this commission, and maybe it's the first of things to come. And you guys have been so generous to me over the past months. Just... just don't be seduced by the pretty makeup, and the softness, and my... my not talking about anything dark here. It's not fun. It's hard. It's... exhausting. But it's what I have. And... and because someone out there is so unbelievably generous, I have a bit more, and maybe... maybe I can paint more landscapes for more people, and branch out a bit, and do this for you guys for... for fun rather than for... survival..."

Jingling on my client.

"Please, no, stop," I begged them, ashamed. "I'm okay, please... no, guys, please, don't spend your money on me..."

SolarBadger> I don't have much but you always make me smile <3

JacobsLadder> I don't need that pint at the pub, I'd rather you had it ellie

QueerBeer> ditto

ElliotP> you make us smile and draw our catgirls :3

NancyDrewADog> <3 you ellie <3 don't cry

QueerBeer> We've got you ellie <3

Money poured in. There was over a hundred pounds already. I'd take a small bit of it as I needed and donate the rest to the Samaritans or Centrepoint so someone less fortunate than me could also get help. It felt like the right thing to do; I didn't deserve this, other Ellies out there needed it more.

"So," I whispered, voice creaking and cracking, overwhelmed by the unexpected outpouring of affection from these kind, faceless strangers. "How... sorry... how do we feel about Catgirls tonight?"

Extremely positively, my channel's swollen populace unanimously declared, all former feuds put aside for now.

So I took another breath, and tacked some clean card to my easel, and drew their Catgirls for them.

❧

I washed my hands and turned, leaning against my counter top as I stared at the first rough wash of colours on Kirsty's canvas.

It was big; bigger than I'd thought it would be.

The linen was pristine white where it had not yet been painted; like a square of cloud that had been caught and pinned to a frame. Tightly-woven and bound to a rigid skeleton, it was so much better than the wobbly knock-offs or cardboard I was often forced to use...

It was a thing of beauty.

I'd put three hours in so far; the mountains were roughed in, and the foreground, and the patches of sky that would become the clouds I wanted to add.

It would be a dominant piece. I hoped she had a space that would fit it.

And I prayed she'd like it with the alterations I was planning to make.

She'd blown into my barren life like a monsoon storm, and in her passing I felt like I'd come to life for the first time in years.

So... I would do the same in her painting. Towering clouds in the distance, and in the foreground...

Rainwater and flowers.

I'd researched desert blooms, seen the bright violets and reds and yellows of the flowers that had covered the Atacama in the freak rains of the previous spring.

And I had the perfect scene in my mind. Now I just needed to capture it.

But I knew I could, and I knew I would.

I stretched the kinks out of my back. It was time to get online and tend to my own desert garden. But first...

I picked up my phone and opened my email app.

To: platinumblonde@occlude.me

Kirsty -

I know you don't want progress pictures, or reports, and I know I'm not allowed to ruin the surprise, and I know you said start whenever and finish whenever.

But just so you know - I've started. I don't want you to think that I'm a flake, or that I can't do this...

Thank you for believing in me. Words can't convey enough. Just... thank you.

Viv

I put my phone aside.

I covered her painting with a sheet to keep it hidden and safe.

Then I slowly unwrapped the new makeup set that I'd finally been able to afford. I took my time, spent the effort, treated my face with respect. A few nights of proper sleep had helped... as had the ability to actually afford some fresh vegetables rather than my carefully-rationed supply of cans...

I forced down the sob. I wouldn't waste any part of this gift of time.

I looked at myself in the mirror, for once not hating who I saw.

"Ellie" had got me this far. She'd been good to me. But... maybe I could take over now, and let her rest for a bit. She'd earned it.

I took a breath, summoned the courage from who-knows-where.

I tied my hair back into a tail. I put on my favourite Celadon-green tee shirt - the one with the white trim on the sleeves. I put on my glasses so that I could rest my eyes for once. And I made myself a mug of tea and put it in my garish neon pink mug for luck.

I set up my stage, made sure everything was feeding, that both cameras had power... and then I enjoyed the rare luxury of a moment or two where I could sit there with my eyes closed and just... breathe.

Show time.

"Hi, it's Ellie," I announced to my stream. "And... tonight, I wondered... I think I'm going to do something different tonight. Oh... oh Jesus there are a lot of you here tonight..."

ElliotP> omg you wear glasses. Ellie you're gorgeous

QueerBeer> wow, nice!

FranceIsBacon> Hey mom I'm on TV

QuakerGoats> Hi from Fife!

Moxie> ¯_(ツ)_/¯ all these new people

SolarBadger> What you doing tonight Ellie? Landscapes again?

"No," I said. "No. Tonight, we're doing something different. Tonight I'm going to be brave. Tonight, boys and girls, if you like, I'm going to give you a talk and demo of the power of light and shadow. Or, as it's technically known, Chiaroscuro. Rembrandt, Leonardo da Vinci and Caravaggio were all masters of the technique, and it's one of the most important tools in the box of tricks."

CrystalMaze> the only way this would get better is if she does it with catgirls.

d4gg3rdan> XD omg

"And aren't you a lucky fish, CrystalMaze," I said, grinning. "Because that's exactly what we're gonna do. Catgirls by Ellie, a study in light and darkness. To start with - charcoal. Hang on to your hats, and shout if I get too technical on you guys. I'd hate to lose any of you."

Moxie> Best. Channel. Ever!!!

d4gg3rdan> bugger me this is awesome I can't wait

And then my phone pinged. I glanced downwards at the message summary.

From: platinumblonde@occlude.me

that green is sublime on you - K

I shivered, flushed, and stared up at the camera for a moment. I scrolled through my channel members - seven hundred or more tonight - but didn't see her there. She was obviously hiding behind a new nickname...

"Hey, so, just so you all know, the person who commissioned my painting might stop in at some point. I hope you guys will all be nice to them if they show..."

d4gg3rdan> Hey look at my boobies -> (.)(.)

Moxie> call those boobies? mine are nicer (o)(o)

CrystalMaze> Moxie those are watching me while I move

Moxie> hahaha

QueerBeer> (.)(`)(.)

Moxie> oh eeuw XD

SolarBadger> mate, you need to get that looked at, that's doesn't look right

"Oh you guys," I sighed, grinning at my camera. "Very amusing. Anyway - lets begin. Lesson one - using shadow to frame the subject..."

My phone pinged again.

From: platinumblonde@occlude.me

Very funny. I'll remember that x - K

And I just smiled. She'd had it coming, after all.

❧

The days flashed by. My schedule became centred around her painting; around the need to capture perfectly the image that I wanted to present to her. My hours at my office job became an ever-more-frustrating experience of clandestine clock-watching - I was professional, efficient, and diligent; everything my agency persona required of me.

But any time not painting felt wasted.

My online followers surged; then dipped to a new, higher plateau; there'd been a change in mentality, too. I'd noticed a significant drop in the innuendo and smut in chat since my meltdown, but their engagement was up, people were online waiting for me when I signed in in the evenings, and one or two of them had even started to draw or paint off the back of the, for lack of a better word, tuition that I was giving them.

Some of them were really quite good at it.

I'd become their teacher instead of their kink, and I had to admit I liked the change in role, and I really liked the rise in my subscriptions.

I still dribbled paint on myself sometimes, of course - all good students deserve their treats. But it was Kirsty's painting that was my one true love.

Well...

Mostly just her painting. Over half, at least...

Because, somehow, Kirsty and I had drifted closer - she'd begun to share little snippets about who she was, signed and sent from the exotic and far-flung destinations she seemed to spend her life visiting (or pretending to visit, as my cynical inner self repeated ad nauseam).

She seemed to take delight in giving me gentle nudges about my stream - warm compliments about clothes she liked, or things I'd said that made her smile... and strange silences when I did things that she perhaps didn't like or approve of.

And... I began to catch myself pandering to her and her tastes. I defaulted to clothes I knew she liked, and to the less-outré, subtle makeup styles that she always complimented. I knew I was doing it, and I knew I was doing it for her approval, and it both irked and pleased me that I'd been so easily pulled into her orbit.

Her words had a dry wit to them, and I often found myself constructing elaborate scenarios as I tried to build a mental model of who she was because I had no visual of who she might be or what she looked like... or even what she sounded like. She was careful with what she revealed about herself, but she was clearly (or perhaps pretended to be) a senior person in a global company that sent her helter-skelter over the world, and that meant that she seemed accustomed to getting what she wanted.

She was phenomenally good at making me want to give her what she wanted.

A little part of me grew to resent the fact that she knew what I looked and sounded like but I had nothing like that of hers. I depended on her. I found myself craving her approval. And the lack of any concrete woman behind the words was becoming hard to bear.

It all came to a head one late autumn night. My simmering irritation and vague sense of being cheated suddenly boiled over and drove me to send her a testy email in which I included my phone number and the regrettable words - "If you're going to criticise me you should at least do it to my face."

She phoned me almost immediately - a video call - and I answered, still fuming, only to find myself staring wordlessly into the bright blue eyes and haughty face of the Ice Queen herself.

"Oh fuck me, you're gorgeous," I said, before I could help myself.

She blinked, then began to laugh as a rosy flush tinted her pale cheeks.

"Oh. Oh fuck. Oh God! Sorry!" I stammered, appalled at myself.

"Well... hello to you too, I suppose. Er... I was going to scold you for being testy, but that greeting kind of took the wind out of my sails..."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." I babbled.

"No, no, don't be silly. I... I think we both just got carried away with our roles."

"Yeah. Our roles," I added, trying not to read anything into the words.

She seemed flustered, and I knew that I was pink and growing pinker.

I took a deep breath, calmed a bit.

"Um," she said.

"This is awkward," I agreed.

"Yeah. Very."

"I wasn't actually expecting you to phone," I said.

"I wasn't actually expecting you to answer," she replied. "And yet... here we are. So... Vivienne. Or shall I call you Ellie?" she added, grinning.

"Viv," I offered. "Or Vivienne if you like... though most people don't."

"I can't see why, it's a lovely name. So... Vivienne," she said. "Hi there. I'm Kirsty... obviously."

"Hi," I said, sheepishly.

"Hi. So... um... oh God, look, I'm sorry for criticising. I wasn't trying to... well, not too much anyway... it's just..."

"It's fine. It's... it's not that I don't appreciate it, it's just..."

"Awkward."

"Yeah. Awkward."

"Awkward is such an awkward word as well," she said, grinning.

I laughed. "Yeah. Um. Okay. Can we start again? Please?"

"That would be great. Right. Breathe... and begin. Hi. I'm Kirsty. Nice to... to actually talk to you properly. And this is me, I guess."

"It's... really nice to put a face to your name," I admitted. "You're... well, honestly, you're not at all what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"Someone... um... not like you."

"Care to dig that hole a bit deeper?" she laughed.

"No. No, I'm great in here, it's more than deep enough."

My cheeks were still burning.