If he did dream he didn't remember it come nightfall. He got out of bed immediately after the sun set and went straight to the waiting canvas. Once again he began by splattering the waiting white with his own blood, though this time he used the craft knife rather than his own teeth. He did it several times this time, for this painting he wanted a thicker coat of rust red. He felt a momentary wave of weakness, and hunger was clawing at his stomach, but he ignored them both. The painting was more important.

He was working on sketches again while the blood dried when somebody knocked at his door. He always felt a little nervous going and opening it, though so far only one person had ever come by his room. As always he nervousness was unfounded, since when he opened the door it was Jen standing in the hallway. “Hey there kiddo.”

“Hi.”

“How's it going?”

Andrew considered that question. “Actually... actually kind of good?”

“Hey, that's great! What's so good then?”

“Uhm. I've been painting.”

“Awesome! Can I see?”

Andrew hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

Jen had been in his room a few times. She'd asked about the canvas the first time she'd come over, but when he'd made it obvious how much his lack of inspiration depressed him she hadn't mentioned it again. Now she crossed over to the easel, regarding the blood-spattered canvas curiously, then looking down at the two that leaned against the wall. She regarded them both for some time. “These... these are really good.”

Andrew blushed a little. “Th-thanks.”

“They're good enough for a gallery even, I think.”

“Heh. I don't know...”

“They are!”

Andrew smiled a bit at her intensity. “Okay. But I don't think I could get into a gallery.”

Jen laughed. “You'd be wrong then. Because I happen to know somebody who owns one.”

He blinked at her. “You're kidding.”

“Nope.”

“But... how do you know somebody like that?”

She grinned. “You know how I hunt.”

Andrew blushed. Jen had told him not long after they first met that she would love to have him along when she hunted, but he would scare all the prey off, because her method was to dress in outfits that made him blush and visit bars and nightclubs to lure out some unsuspecting young man. “Yeah...”

“Well, there's a certain amount of overlap between the trendy club scene and the trendy art scene. I met her at a club, and she sometimes has parties at the gallery, I've been to a few. This,” she gestured at his painting, “is just the kind of thing she'd love to have, I'm pretty sure.”

“Oh. Uh... Then... you think I should show it to her?”

“I do indeed! In fact it's early enough I may go talk to her tonight, if you don't mind me abandoning you.”

“I, uh, no, I don't mind.”

“Wonderful! You stay here and paint then. I'll be back later.”

He had finished putting down a series of black lines that made a jagged spiral over the rust and white, and was starting to work on a few red drops, making them round and perfect this time, like dewdrops on a rose, blood red against black or white, when Jen came back. He was so intent on his painting that he didn't actually hear her knock, and after a moment she let herself into the room.

She stood behind him and watched while he completed one perfect little droplet. When he was done she said “These are really pretty awesome, you know that?”

He jumped. “Eep!”

“Sorry, guess you were concentrating pretty hard there! Anyhow, my friend has a busy week, but she says she wants to see you on Monday.”

“Okay. Uh. What day is it now?”

“It's Thursday,” said Jen with a grin. “So you have four days.”

“Okay.” Andrew flicked his ears nervously. He'd always been kind of shy, and talking to a gallery owner about his art... it was intimidating. But he'd always wanted to have a piece in a gallery. He could remember being a child and telling his parents he was going to be an artist when he grew up. An artist. And artists had work in galleries. He could manage to speak to any number of strangers if that was what it took.