Searching

The whole day I was smiling because I ran into him. If only I had the time to go and talk to him to make sure that he was real. Nothing of him seemed to change in the course of the year. It was nice, being able to see my hero walk freely in the streets. However, it surprised me. Did no one recognize who he was without the mask and street wear? That could have been anybody, but I knew it was him. He was looking at me, he was watching me when I looked back at him. Sealing it with a salute, I knew that it was him all along. If only I could have ran to him and embrace him. Oh well, at least I knew that he was alive.

When I entered my art studio, I inspected my art to make sure they were still in place. This was my sanctuary. My home away from home. My gallery opened only three times a month, and it has been successful ever since I opened it six months ago. My proudest work was the collage of the heroes that saved the world that one day. I painted each and one of them, taking my time. That piece alone took a total amount of six days to complete, working on it three hours a day. It was my pride and joy. The price I had it for sell was $2000 for how long I worked on it, and I am finally letting that be seen to the world for the one year anniversary that our saviours came. There had to be someone bound to spend that much for a painting such as this one.

Tomorrow was one of the three opening days, and I felt proud of what my gallery had to offer this time around. Everything had resemblance of the heroes, more specifically on that one that saved mine. In honesty, I had hoped that my advertising would catch their eyes so they can see the different paintings I had to offer in tribute of them. Hopefully that the Captain would come. My grandfather would be pleased to meet him if he did come, considering that my grandfather wanted to come to this specific gallery opening alone when I told him the theme. He had high hopes, and I did as well.

Seeing Captain America today on the street was still surprising to me. He was under my nose this whole time. Possibly he was in this city the whole time and I never knew. I smile was on my face as I pulled out another canvas, starting to work on another piece of art centered around the man. This painting was going to be for my eyes only.

---

This was the day.

My grandfather stood beside me as we watched as different people strolled in. Children were looking at the paintings, pointing and naming each hero that was presented in the gallery. That caused me to smile, happy to know that they knew who their heroes were. The one year anniversary was today, and everyone knew of that. I gave my grandfather a pat on the shoulder, and he gave me a nod as I walked into my gallery to see what everyone thought of the art that I came up with.

As I mingled for twenty minutes, I started to hear a few gasps and I looked up. A smile was on my face, and felt honored that one of them walked into my gallery. The billionaire, Tony Stark, was here. He was wearing a nice suit, and everything about him screamed rich. I walked over to the him, and gave a bright smile. He ooked at me, also sending me a smile in return. “It is an honor for you to be here, Mr. Stark, the man behind Ironman,” I said, extending my hand, “I am Krissy Bensworth, and I painted all of these.”

He took off his sunglasses as he peered at me, eyeing me up and down before shaking my hand. “The pleasure’s all mine,” he spoke, “You painted all of these by yourself?” He looked around the gallery from where he stood. There had to be at least thirty painted pictures, plus the one that was in the center of the room with all of the team. “You are talented.”

“Thank you,” I spoke, and I could feel the heat going to my cheeks. “Please, feel free to look around and feel free to ask questions, I would love to answer them for you.”

“I will call you when I need you,” he stated, sending me a wink before walking over to the big painting that was in the center of the room. He seemed intrigued by it. I never knew that a billionaire would be interested in paintings. Let alone my paintings. I was not complaining though. At least he was there to appreciate what I had for them.

I continued to converse amongst other people, listening to them speak and answering questions about certain pieces. Most people asked the same question, but I did not mind. It was fun getting insight with my pieces, and I was glad that this was a better turnout than it was when I last opened my gallery. When people read about my tribute, I received emails upon emails about the gallery. That made me work fast, getting as many pieces that I could in the two weeks I gave myself time to do.

When I looked at a painting I did for Captain America, I smiled. I was always proud of my work when it came to him. He was my inspiration to open up this gallery as a whole. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have been alive to make this dream come true.

A question was asked to me, but I did not look back to see who asked. “It seems like you have a fascination with Captain America,” he spoke. “Why all him?”

“He saved me,” I answered, being sincere as I answered the question, “If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have opened this gallery because I would have been dead.”

“That’s quite moving, ma’am,” the man spoke, and soon I recognized the mannerism. My head snapped up as I looked to the man. A blush crossed my cheeks, now looking down at the ground. “It is nice to see you again, Miss Bensworth,” he commented.

I was at a loss for words I was in the same presence of the man that saved me a year ago. I was not prepared to see him. I did not know what to say. My words were stuck in my throat. All I could muster out was, “Likewise, Captain.” That made me want to hit myself in the back of the head with a hammer. When I heard him chuckle, I couldn’t help but to smile. His chuckle sent a nice ring to my ears.

“Please, call me Steve,” he spoke, and I looked at him. He smiled at me, and I just smiled back at him.

This was the start of something new.