Paint Me a Picture with Nothing

Chapter Two

There was nothing. Literally nothing. The scenery I once knew was gone. Everything was white.
People have said that this was it. Nothing more, nothing less, but when I looked again, I saw it. The thing no one mentions. The thing that is gone with a flash the minute it's seen. But wait, it's still there.

“Like all good things, it has come an end.”

The voice, it was as though I’ve heard it before. The slight lisp in the tone made it apparent that it wasn’t just my mind going crazy. It was a person.

“I know what you’re thinking; I can see it in your face. You’re scared.”

The words lingered through my ears as I slowly moved closer to it. The light, almost too bright for my eyes to see, but I soon began to see what I wish I never saw. It was him. No, not God. It wa-

Alex's words were stopped when his alarm blared. He doesn't most of his morning by writing, as always. He looked at the time, his lips pursed as he saw that he had a few minutes to get ready. Today was the day he decided to set up the Skype call with the elder's possible new editor.

He sighed and saved his work before dragging his feet into his closet to find something to wear; simple light blue button down shirt to compliment his plaid pajama pants. He didn't care about his bottoms, it didn't matter, his top half was the only thing that's visible anyways.

After successfully doing his hair, he walked back over to his desk and opened his laptop up again, meeting with his unfinished work. He shook his head and opened up Skype, scrolling down to the Taylor Jardine’s contact on his contact list. Alex took a deep breath before pressing the video call button, waiting patiently as he heard the more than irritating call waiting noise Skype produced.

"Good aftern-" Taylor stopped herself when her eyes locked on Alex's face. "You're my neighbor. My disrespectful neighbor."

Alex sighed, showing no emotion to the fact that his neighbor wants to work for him. "Good after noon, Ms. Jardine." He replied, his monotone voice coming out, as usual when he becomes A.W. Gaskarth instead plain ol' Alex.

Taylor furrowed her eyebrows, she was expecting a snarky response, but no, just a bored tone as the words spilled from his mouth as though he said the same thing every day. "Um, hello, Ale-"

"Mr. Gaskarth." Alex corrected.

"Right, Mr. Gaskarth..."

Alex raised an eyebrow before looking at the papers in his hand. "Anyways, Ms. Jardine. I read over your resume. It's quite impressive, if I do say so myself."

Taylor nodded. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

"I know." Alex replied simply. "Back to what I was saying. Do you write your own work?"

Taylor slowly nodded. "Yes, actually. I've written two novels, but I've never published them."

Alex nodded. "Interesting... I wonder why."

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, and I'm pretty sure I'm doing the questions here."

Taylor sighed and slowly nodded. "So you were saying..."

"Ah, yes. So you heard from my friend that I need a new editor; however that doesn't automatically mean you've got the job. You don't have to earn it, but I need to know if you're up for it. I take my work very seriously, and if you think this is a game then you can kindly hang up."

Taylor furrowed her eyebrows; she didn't realize her neighbor was this much of a tool. "I’m positive that I can handle it. I've read The Thin Line Between You and Nothing, so I'm more than aware of how serious you take your work. By the way, I have to commend you on how beautifully written it is. Honestly, but was Winston schizophrenic? The way you characterized made it seem it was possible for him to be diagnosed as schizophrenic."

Alex sat there as he analyzed what had just come out of the younger's mouth. He's heard this assumption more than he's seen the sun rise. Every time he's heard this assumption come from a fan, a simple 'Maybe.' leaves the author's mouth. But this was different, she was different, and someone different deserves a different answer. "No." He replied after coming back from his five minutes of pure silence.

"Wait, what? No to what?"

"No."

Taylor sighed. "Okay, don't answer my question. Is this all? Are we done here?"

"Possibly."

Taylor clenched her jaw. "Possibly?"

"Possibly." Alex agreed with a slight nod.

"Okay, then it was nice speaking to you. I hope to hear from you soon."

"We'll see, Ms. Jardine."

Taylor nodded. "I guess we will." She replied before hanging up, her eyebrows still furrowed as she reevaluated what just happened.

Alex smirked, his normal demeanor quickly returning as he closed his laptop up. He let out a deep sigh and got up from his desk, figuring a nice walk would suit him.

After quickly changing into some normal attire, a pair of jeans and a simple blue t-shirt, he headed out the door of his apartment before immediately bumping into someone. Alex looked down at the figure below him, apologies leaving her mouth, only causing a smirk to grow on the elder's face. "Hello, Taylor."

Taylor looked up at Alex, her eyes wide when she met with the pair of brown eyes staring down at her. "H-Hi, Mr. Gas-"

"It's Alex." Said man replied before walking outside and heading down the corner of 4th and Fremont, leaving Taylor baffled as she stood outside of her apartment.

As Alex walked, the light breeze from to late September weather meeting with his exposed skin. He looked around as he dug his hands into his pockets, noticing the way a man stared out of the distance as he tried to drown out what seemed to be his child's bitching and whining. Alex noticed how his face creased at the top, his left hand bare without a wedding band, which only meant that he was divorced or widowed since a tan line remained on the fourth finger.

Alex's eyes continued to examine the passing civilians as he sat in the grass when he arrived at a local park. The less than appropriate playground being used by screaming children as their mothers' talked about Pinterest, the conversation being so loud that the brunette could clearly hear.

"So I pinned tips about reorganizing my fridge, but I just never have the time. My yoga class just takes up so much of my time that I can barely squeeze in my seaweed facial." One woman said, earning nods from her 'friends'.

An eye roll came from Alex when he overheard the conversation. He never realized how blatantly idiotic some women are until now. The intense high pitch leaving the woman's lips only caused Alex to curl his hand into a fist. Little things irritated the elder. Something so simple as leaving the door cracked irritated him. He never understood why, but it's not like he wants to. He rather leave this attribute a mystery, as with everything that would considered bizarre about him. He's not stubborn, nor in denial, but seeks the thrill in nothing. To him, knowledge is what we don't know.