the ordeal of being known

Layla

one year later

Layla,” a familiar voice called out gently.

It was still strange hearing her name spoken with anything but anger or weariness.

She had been on her own for a year now. Her skin was covered with little tattoos, mostly on her hips and back, tattoos that she tatted herself because she always wanted to learn. Her hair was no longer black, instead a dark red. She had always wanted to dye it that color but was never allowed, just like she was never allowed to have tattoos before.

Mateo came into view and gave her a quick hug, careful not to linger. His skin was a few shades darker than Layla’s, his black curls drew her attention and she reached out to mess them; he let her. It happened to be one of her favorite parts about him because it reminded her of Samira’s hair.

A couple of years ago, Layla had started posting her art online. She never had doubts about her talents. It was the only thing she loved and spent time on.Once she started posting, it got her a lot of attention. When she started, she did all kinds of arts. Her social media presence was a mess. She did book covers, logos, commissions, but her main passion was animation design.

Mateo was one of the first commissions she ever got. He wanted her to make a logo for his website and after she did, he recommended her to many other athletes. After that, she got to design logos for hockey players, basketball players and even models since he had done a couple of modeling gigs.

They became friends after that; he was her first friend, and she was his closest. They’d met for the first time in her studio apartment when he came to pick up a painting that he had commissioned; he’d asked if he could take a look at her other work and she’d said yes. Mateo looked around where he found the place to be very colorful. He found canvases, brushes, and colors everywhere. He found a camera and camera equipment.

“How many hobbies do you have?” he asked in a very curious way, his eyes wide.

“A lot,” she told him. He started fidgeting, still looking around.

“Does it keep your mind busy? Does it take a good amount of time?”

She nodded.

She showed him the tattoos she’d done on herself and he asked her to tattoo him. He didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t really a tattoo artist.

It was a long session, and they ended up talking for hours about so many things. The reason she accepted was because she could use the money, but also because she craved the company so badly. She didn’t warm up to people easily, but something about him had tugged on her to try. She was never one to ignore her intuition.

“Does art interest you? Because I could help you learn if you want.” 

“I need new habits. Healthier ones,” he confessed. Layla had always thought confessing things to a stranger was a bit easier than to a loved one.

He stared at her for a long moment. She got the feeling that he was looking for any signs of judgment or maybe positive advice, but Layla didn’t have those, so she just stared back at him with a blank expression until he relaxed.

After that, they met all the time at his place. She taught him everything she knew about art. Later, she learned more about his self-destructive habits. His fears became hers, her art became his. His family became hers, her dry humor became his. It was the kind of friendship she always dreamed of having.

Mateo’s sister, Cecilia, followed him. The diner was actually supposed to be their spot—just the girls—but Mateo had said that since he introduced them, he should be the allowed to be here.

Celia had obviously come from one of her interviews. She was one of the best talk show hosts in the US. People from all over the world watched her show, and A-list celebrities reached out to her all the time for a chance to be on the show to ‘tell their side of the story’.

The thing about Celia’s show was that she refused to have an audience unless she hosted multiple people. When it was one on one, it was personal, vulnerable, human, and cozy. Just the way she liked.

They took their seats around the table. The waiter knew Mateo’s order, so he brought it a couple of minutes after he sat—he was a big basketball fan, and he adored Mateo.

“You guys should come see me play at the first game of the season,” Mateo said. It was the off-season, but he liked to have an early schedule of when the girls planned on attending. He also forced them to go to the gym with him when he was bored. Layla questioned her love for him every second during those days.

“No,” Celia replied.

“You should be nicer to me; I’m your older brother.”

“I would rather die than be caught cheering for an athlete,” she said, shuddering in disgust, even though they all knew she’d be the first one there supporting him.

The siblings bickered for a minute; they switched from Spanish to English, but eventually Celia ignored Mateo so she could eat her food.

“So, I have a favor to ask,” Mateo said.

“What’s up?” Layla asked.

“One of my teammates wants to commission you—” Layla tried to speak, but Mateo covered her mouth with his hand. “I know you have a lot of commissions to work on, but I promise he’s not picky and he’ll be the best client ever! You’ll love him. I told him to meet you here tomorrow. He wants to see some of your work in real life. Like me, remember?”

Layla hit Mateo with a spoon and he winced. “What is wrong with you?”

“Look, I’m sorry! I couldn’t say no to him; he has a really affective sad puppy look, okay?”

Celia giggled.

“You’re so annoying,” she told him. He looked thoughtful for a second.

“I bet if I had his puppy eyes, no one would ever call me annoying.”

Layla had just finished a commission today with a difficult client. She was looking forward to a little ‘me-time’, but she knew Mateo would make it up to her. Maybe with another vintage Versace dress. She was grateful he always made sure anyone he sent her way treated her with respect. He almost always sent her the easiest clients.

They spent a little over an hour talking before Mateo had to leave for the gym. He gave her the guy’s number and the name on his phone caught her eyes.

Jess (pretty puppy eyes)

She chuckled. Mateo could be exaggerating; they couldn’t be that pretty.

I guess I’ll have to wait and see for myself, she thought.