The flier in his fist was becoming wrinkled beyond recognition, but he didn't care. The art teacher had given out an assignment to visit a local meet and greet with an artist, assigning each student in the class a different artist. One girl in his class had gotten Below's best photorealistic drawing artist, one other girl had received the assignment to visit an abstract modernist painter. Flax? A children's book illustrator. The Nixie had grown to hate those thick, cartoonish lines that he drew. The bright colors and the exaggerated features of characters that looked like they might speak in rhymes and riddles. He wished so badly he could draw photorealistically, and he'd love to learn. He'd even like to pick up a mentor. But no, the teacher had decided for him. He would go and ask the cartoonist the required questions he had hastily written on the back of the flier, and write a report on the event.
The event was at a little family-owned bookstore just a short walk from the Academy. The place smelled musty, and it was full of used books. It was so full of used books, in fact, that the section that contained new books had a large, colorful sign above it. Tiny freshlings littered the floor, one hand holding their tattered copy of the book in it, and the other firmly in the hand of a parent. This was a presentation both done by the illustrator and the author. The author would read the book, "Little Cockatriels and Spectrefoxes," and afterward there would be a Q&A session. The book was a saccharine adventure about an unlikely friendship between two familiar families, and the pages were practically splashed with rainbows and glitter. While the author read, Flax sat in the back, trying his best to look as miserable as possible.
The little freshlings oohed and ahhed, screamed and laughed at all the correct times, and even tried to offer their advice to the poor characters, who were perpetualized in their repetitive buddy comedy. Flax was more interested in the reactions of the kids than he was in the book itself. Laurel and he hadn't discussed whether or not they would have children yet. In fact, marriage rarely came up, and when it did it was spoken about as if it were a thing inconceivably far in the future. He imagined their own children, grey and pink with fluffy ears and tails, gills and claws, their eyes sparkling like hers. He wondered if they'd like "Little Cockatriels and Spectrefoxes."
After the Q&A session, which Flax stubbornly tried to ignore, everyone stood in line to get their copy of the book signed. The Nixie hunkered over at the back of the line, maroon eyes on his toes. These kids were all so happy to meet the author, and he heard voice after tiny voice tell the illustrator, a cream-colored Imp, that they loved his drawings. Flax wondered if his children would like his art, or if they wouldn't even understand that it was art. Were children desensitized from the art their parents did? Say Flax was a classical musician... would they even like music?
Finally, the last of the freshlings were either ushered home or encouraged to search for a new book to add to their collection, and Flax was the only one left. The artist and author looked both equally surprised and pleased to see someone his age waiting to speak to them. "Uh, hello," he said, uncrumpling the fisted-up flier and approaching the illustrator. She was an imp with bright yellow colors, and her eyes lit up. "My name is Flax, I'm an art student over at the Asphodel Gardens Academy. I'm supposed to ask you a couple of interview questions..."
The interview went fairly well. Flax was nervous and, admittedly, not really into it. He asked the interview questions he was required to, squinting as he read the faded ink off the back of the flier, and trying his best to memorize the answers. The questions were mostly mundane - what was her favorite medium? Where did she go to school? What was her favorite style of art? And finally, they reached the end of the interview. He thanked the illustrator for her time, and turned away, before pausing.
"Can I ask one last thing?" he asked. "What made you want to do this? To be an illustrator, I mean." The imp smiled, leaning her head on her hands.
"I do this because I love kids! Don't you see how their eyes light up? I love making that world for them, that they can just be entangled in. And frankly, it's not always easy to get a job as a studio artist. My best friend wrote books for children, and I drew, so I figured why not? We became a team!" She looked absolutely elated about this information, and Flax thanked her again before leaving.
Maybe being an illustrator wouldn't be so bad, Flax thought to himself, folding the paper nicely and sticking it into his pocket. He'd have to ask Laurel what she thought, but maybe it would teach him a bit about kids and maybe even being a father. And maybe, just maybe, Flax was ready to face his strengths instead of focusing on what he wished he could do.
