The Universal Passenger Book 1. Someone Else
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“Then what is it about?” Van interrupted, anger growing on his face.
“I'll be honest with you. I don't just look at drawings as a passer-by, but also as a doctor.”
“As a psychiatrist, you mean,” Constantin casually interjected.
“I haven’t finished my thought,” the girl replied coldly. “I view paintings through the lens of my professional perspective. And no matter how beautiful a piece may be, I don’t want a seven-year-old boy gazing at it before bed. His psyche is still developing. Whether you like it or not, horror films aren’t just labeled 18+ for no reason. That’s what I wanted to say.”
“Many heard your dialogue and didn’t engage with that piece,” Constantin closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. “They didn’t grasp what I wanted to convey through it.”
“They’ll have time to reconsider everything,” Sophia replied, not understanding his annoyance. “Look at how many of your other works sold. Honestly, I’ve rarely seen an artist boast about selling so many paintings in one evening.”
“It’s too late now,” Constantin said, standing up and offering her his hand. “I’ll walk you out.”
As she left, she realized that the established rapport with Constantin had been interrupted. Turning back one last time to the painting, Sophia saw Elizabeth form the word ‘thank you’ in the air with her lips.
Getting into the car, Sophia saw in the headlights that Van had returned to the studio without looking back to say goodbye. The Ephor simply shrugged and drove away.
Chapter 4
After seeing Sophia off, Constantin couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.
“Maybe I was too harsh with her—”
On the other hand, they had known each other for only a day, and she had already scared off potential buyers. All because she couldn’t keep silent.
Trying to blow off steam, he took a brush and began to paint chaotic strokes on the canvas. He wasn’t painting anything specific, just improvising.
And he drank a lot. First, he emptied the whiskey, then moved on to white rum. When he could no longer hold the brush in his hands, Constantin flopped down on the couch where the exhibition had taken place and closed his eyes.
In the morning, his head was pounding, but that was trivial compared to the lingering feeling from yesterday’s parting with Sophia. He liked that headstrong girl. The way she boldly defended her viewpoint was captivating. Yet he, like a true egoist, couldn’t accept an opinion different from his own. What childishness.
For half the day, he couldn’t find peace. He didn’t have Sophia’s phone number, which meant the only way to apologize for his behavior was to head to the "Sleeping Dolphin."
The place wasn’t pleasant, although for a clinic it was ornate and tidy. During the times he came here, he wanted to run away. The patients were in their rooms – prisons. They only crossed paths during walks, but what always surprised him was that there were never any violent patients in this clinic. Either they were sent to other centers, or they felt much better here and weren’t in a hurry to leave.
Constantin approached the schedule desk and confirmed that Sophia was seeing patients today. Of course, no one gave him a referral, but for a box of chocolates and a promise to call, he managed to get the room number from the receptionist. Sometimes appearances helped, even though Constantin didn’t consider himself attractive. He inherited his mother’s Asian eyes and his father’s strong jawline. The mix of genes was evident.
Lost in thought about his roots, he didn’t notice when he bumped into someone familiar in the hallway.
“Costa!” the girl with an alien-like appearance and bleached eyebrows broke into a smile. “I’m so glad to see you! You haven’t written in a while.”
“Sayana, what's up?” Constantin hugged her and glanced at the identification bracelet on her wrist. “I’m not a patient here. I just came to see a doctor about a personal matter,” he said. “And you still haven’t asked to go home?”
“No. I wanted to, but anyway I wouldn’t have made it in time for my mom’s birthday. And you know how families aren’t too keen on having a schizophrenic around. They feel more at ease when I’m getting treatment, and I feel more at ease when they’re not jumping at every little thing I do,” the girl smirked.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. They still love you. Just give them time.”
“I’m afraid I might not have the patience for long waits,” Sayana said, laughing sadly and tilting her head to the side as if she were listening to someone else nearby.
He looked at her bluish face and noted that not much time had passed since their last meeting, but she appeared even more withdrawn. Her thin fingers awkwardly ran through her light hair, as if she were gathering the remnants of her femininity to “freshen up.” Her large eyes, once a beautiful shade of blue, had dulled and turned more gray. On the girl’s neck, there was a pattern resembling vitiligo, but since Sayana was very pale, the pattern barely caught the eye and resembled more of an unusual decoration than a flaw.
“I believe in you, Sayana,” he said, hugging her again. “Remember, all fears are just in our heads. People outside this hospital don’t know what you’ve been through. Play the role you like.”
“Thank you, Costa. It was great to see you! We’ll meet again.”
The girl slowly wandered off toward the cafeteria, and Constantin turned to the appropriate office.
“Costa?” Sophia stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, raising an eyebrow.
“I allow her to call me that. We were treated together and became friends. May I come in?”