43
Star
July was whizzing by ridiculously fast and summer was in full swing; although in Edinburgh that could mean four seasons in a day. The flowers were blooming in Prices Street gardens and tourists were appearing in the city in droves. I took refuge in Calton Hill cemetery when I needed time to myself, but even there I was worried I might bump into Fin. I’d managed to avoid him for the weeks after the ball. Even Tom had stopped acting as a messenger when he saw how hurt I was. We had spent time together working on the exhibition at his gallery and things were getting so real. He had gained Fin’s permission to use the images I took of him and for that I was grateful. Tom said he’d taken no convincing at all and that he wished me every success, that he looked broken. But hearing that sent my emotions into turmoil. Every time I carried out a task connected to the exhibition I was reminded that it was all thanks to Fin that I was even doing it.
My grandma had tried her best to comfort me and I had cried on her several times. I was so grateful that I had her as I missed my mom and dad more than words could express. My video calls to them had been short. The last thing I wanted was to worry them. Although my most recent call was longer. Thanks to Grandma.
‘Why didn’t you tell us what had happened honey?’ my mom asked, a crease of worry between her brows. ‘We shouldn’t have had to hear it from your grandma.’
I sighed deeply. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve just been so busy getting ready for the exhibition that I forgot to mention it.’
My father gave me a knowing look. ‘Star, be honest, we’re your parents. You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to worry us, that’s the real reason isn’t it?’
Busted. My lip trembled and I nodded. ‘You just feel so far away right now and it hurts,’ I told them with a wavering voice. ‘I’m not sure I can stay here.’
‘Oh sweetie, this has been your dream for so long. And now you have the exhibition. Don’t let Fin’s mistakes become yours. We’re going to try and make it over for the opening. See how you feel then huh? But don’t make any rash decisions.’
I agreed and changed the subject. I didn’t want to think about Fin any more. So I bombarded them with questions about the neighbours, the neighbourhood and anything else I could think of until we ended the call.
* * *
The opening night of my début exhibition was going well. I was astounded at the feedback I’d been getting for my work, and I was so glad I had stepped out of my comfort zone. But the Fin-shaped hole in my heart was still aching. The fact that I didn’t fit into his world had initially made me more determined to make a go of things. In spite of my initial desire to run, I’m no quitter. Clearly, the same couldn’t be said for him. I was hoping my photography could help take my mind off my sadness at losing him. It had always helped in the past when I’d been down. I could quite easily lose myself in a spectacular view for hours.
The gallery walls were adorned with some of the most exquisite works of art I had ever seen, and it still amazed me thatmywork—photographsIhad taken—were being viewed as just as influential and important. The images I had taken of Fin’s on-stage persona were some of my best work. The fact that he was so damned attractive probably helped.
The duplicity of his character had always fascinated me. The way he changed when he stepped out into that spotlight and dominated the stage like he owned the place amazed me beyond belief. The growl to his voice and the passion in his eyes made me believe every single word he sang. Even lyrics written by others were believable as his own. And some of the songs he chose to perform made me feel like I was on an emotional rollercoaster. Angst, loathing, adoration, pain. You name it, he expressed it beautifully.
The photos on display at my exhibition showed each side of his character, and it was so clear to me which song he had been performing just by looking into the azure eyes staring out at me from the canvases.
‘We’re so proud of you Estrellita,’ my dad said as he slipped his arm round my shoulder.
‘You must get your creative streak from your grandad. He was really good with his hands.’ Grandma Aggie told me with a wink.
I felt my cheeks flush and I whispered, ‘Grandma, behave yourself.’
She feigned innocence and with a glint in her eyes she replied, ‘I meant sketching, I don’t know what you thought I meant.’
‘He certainly is a handsome man,’ my mom said as she stared at the blue eyes staring out from the canvas before us. ‘But looks aren’t everything.’
My dad scowled at her. ‘Oh really?’
She playfully whacked his arm. ‘Oh honey, you know I think you’re a dreamboat.’
‘Miss Mendoza?’ The deep, masculine, American-accented voice pulled my attention away from my cute parents.
Frowning, I turned to face whoever had distracted me. ‘Yes?’
The tall, handsome man of around mid-fifties, with salt and pepper grey hair, held out his hand. ‘Marshall Davies. I’m the director of The Napier Gallery in New York. I have to say, I’m very impressed with your photographs.’
I felt heat rise in my cheeks. I just couldn’t get used to all the compliments. ‘Oh. Thank you.’
‘Tell me, is it true that you’ve had no formal training?’
‘Nope, it’s all natural,’ my dad interjected. ‘My Estrellita is just a naturally talented artist. The best I’ve seen.’
I felt a flush of heat rise from my chest to my cheeks as I glowered at my father. I cleared my throat. ‘No formal training, that’s correct. It’s all me. Y-you can probably tell.’ My stutter and nervous laugh told of the imposter syndrome I was fighting yet again. Still. Fin’s words echoed in my mind.‘You are the most intelligent, fun, caring, talented woman I’ve ever met, so don’t go getting a bloody inferiority complex on me, okay?’
My mom leaned in and whispered, ‘We’ll leave you to it honey.’ She squeezed my shoulder and the three of them wandered across the room.
