The Unsolvable Equation

Thirty-six

“You know Brad, I’m open to a lot of things, but when someone thinks that a masterpiece which took over ten years to complete is less of a work of art than that piece of shit lying in a white room, that’s when I draw the line!”

Hannah and Brad had both stopped walking and were now standing facing each other on the sidewalk, both trying to burn the other with their stare of death. They had been arguing about art the entire morning ever since their group had paid their long-overdue visit to the Louvre. Alexia had learnt another trait about Brad and Hannah that she would probably have been better off not knowing, and it was that neither of them would shut up until they were proven right. Even as they walked to the airport, about to split up and be faced with the dreaded task of returning to their daily lives, Hannah and Brad couldn’t grant the rest of the group just one moment of silence and peace.

“It’s a different, more brilliant type of art, Hannah!” Brad exclaimed. “Da Vinci and the whole bunch of them just captured everyday things and people and put them on canvases. What they did was basically a long winded way of taking a picture! With modern art, the essence of society is captured. People are coming up with ingenious ways to represent deep messages through the use of little visual aid. Don’t you think that’s amazing?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Deep societal messages. Give me a break! The only message in modern art is that today’s leading artists CAN’T DRAW!” she yelled, causing a few heads to turn and tut in her direction.

“Their talent lies is a different form of expression! You think all your precious Renaissance guys could come up with the concepts that today’s art showcases? Fat chance!” Brad argued, raising his voice to match hers.

“Well, they definitely could, but wouldn’t. You know why? Because they actually valued talent! They valued actual artistic practice and technical skill, instead of crapping something that my baby sister could do and justifying it with some pretentious bullshit!”

“Then you need to get your definition of art checked! These people are geniuses! Their art exists in the mind of the the viewer, they play with your brain! Its extremely impressive!”

Hannah leaned closer to him and narrowed her eyes. “Anybody can do what they do,” she seethed.

Brad matched her stare. “Yeah, but nobody did,” he shot back.

“Woah! Guys, guys, break it up, already. We’re already coming to the end of the trip, I don’t think either of you wants to make a new enemy who mixes within the same artistic circles as you,” Almier interjected, prying them apart like the peacemaker he apparently took upon himself to be.

And speaking of Almier, Alexia’s relationship with him hadn’t improved since the boat trip the night before. In fact, their interaction had mostly been sour, reserved and frayed at the edges by growing tensions between the both of them. Alexia began to wonder if she should be worried by the fact that the state of their relationship did not exactly bother her as much as she thought it would. Maybe Almier just isn’t the boy I thought he was. Hey, it’s better to find out late than never, right?

The walked for awhile in silence, then Hannah kicked a pebble on the roadside. “Look Brad,” she sneered. “Modern art.” The pebble fell into a drain. “Shows the feeble state of society.”

Brad rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. They passed by a roadside cart selling watercolour paintings of the French scenery and a few keychains. “Look, Hannah,” Brad replied with a tone not lacking in sarcasm and dripping with acid. “Traditional art. Two dimensional and unbelievably boring!”

That reminds me! I haven’t got souvenirs for K.H or my family, yet! “You guys go ahead, I need to get some souvenirs. I’ll catch up!” she told them, lugging her baggage back to the cart.

“Me too,” Almier announced, much to her dismay.

Alexia tried to walk as fast as she could to get away from Almier and avoid conversation, but he eventually caught up.

“Hold on,” he called, grabbing her hand.

Alexia sighed and turned around. “Almier, if there was something important you needed to say, you had the entire morning to do it. Must you truly leave such matters for such an inappropriate timing?”

“Why have you been giving me the cold shoulder?” he demanded bluntly.

“The treatment is only as cold as you perceive it to be,” Alexia remarked dryly.

“Don’t play mind games with me now, Alexia,” Almier frowned. “I want to know what’s up.”

“I don’t see why you’re making a big deal out of this. I mean, I wasn’t exactly the fuzziest person to begin with,” Alexia replied, hoping that she sounded more indifferent than what she was feeling. Her stomach was twisted in knots and she wanted nothing more than to migrate to another country, far away from wherever Almier might be.

“Is this about the night on the boat? Because I may have gotten a little carried away,” Almier admitted, giving her a sheepish grin. “Forgive me?”

“Since you knew the answer all along, what’s the point in asking me? Are you really that incompetent that you are unable to rely on your own instincts and have to look to me for validation?” Alexia snapped curtly.

“Oh come on, Alexia. You’re not really that petty, are you?”

“No I’m not,” Alexia conceded, wanting to end their conversation before she lost her indifferent, ice cold persona and caved in.

“Friends, then?”

Friends. “I don’t see why not. We never broke up in the first place, Almier,” Alexia said, picking a few keychains and handling them to the store vendor.

“Wow, who’s that for,” Almier asked, his voice trembling below the cracks of fake curiosity and nonchalance, noticing her paying for a beautiful painting of the eiffel tower with warm, romantic shades of pink and orange dancing across the sky.

It was for K.H.

Alexia looked right at Almier. “It’s for Caden,” she said.