I can’t believe I just said that. If the look on Edward’s face was any indication of how flustered he was, my insides were about a thousand times worse. What the fuck? That just wasn’t really like me. I wonder where the hell it came from.
I tugged him down the alley, giving my beet red face some time to recover. He pulled at his tie, loosening it up enough that he hung limply against his chest.
He stopped us about halfway down the alley and nodded towards the building. It was fairly simple. Just ‘AM’ painted in block letters, but there was still something exquisitely beautiful about it. I cocked my head to the side and took it all in. I’d seen plenty of graffiti before but there was something about Edward’s work that always had that extra something. Almost like you could feel what he was feeling when he did it, or at least what he wanted you to believe he was feeling.
“This was the first one I did in New York…” He mumbled. “I was so used to doing mostly tags back in L.A. that it just felt comfortable to do it.”
“Tags?” I turned towards him.
“Yeah it’s kind of like…a signature for a graffiti artist. Sometimes like you’re claiming it, identifying yourself to the world. It’s called a tag or tagging.”
“Interesting. How did you get started? I mean…the first night you ever painted. Why’d you do it?”
His brow furrowed for a long time before he answered. “I don’t know…I mean I’d gotten in a huge fight with my dad over med school and the fact that I wasn’t going. I went for a walk to blow off some steam and ended up in what I thought was the wrong side of town at the time.” He leaned back against the building. “I saw a guy painting down by the train tracks and for some reason I just sat and watched him for the rest of the night. He knew I was there, but he didn’t say a word. He just painted and I watched. The next night I showed up and he offered me a can.” He shrugged. “I guess it just provided some kind of release for me. I never thought my life would turn out like this. Just…wandering around clueless without any direction”
“This doesn’t look like wandering around clueless to me. This looks like you know what you want. And not all who wander are lost.”
“You stole that from J.R. Tolkien,” he said, laughing a little under his breath. “I didn’t take you for a Lord of the Rings person.”
“I’m not. My dad is. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice and just think I’m brilliant.”
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