xxIcanmakeyouBEAUTIFUL --*chance

[sofia alyona volkova]

She would say that there hadn’t been days when she had been this excited, but she would be lying.

Commissions were hard to come by as an artist, even if you showed a flare for talent. What Sophie had to learn the hard way was that you had to appeal to a person’s vanity. Art, especially realism, was a good way to express that sort of vanity. When someone spoke of being immortalized within a drawing, they were right. Photography, writing, drawings, sculptures – what have you, not even time could ravage. Immortalized within that one piece, you lived forever, and everyone would want just a piece of that immortality, if you held it before their nose like a treat. Sophie made an honest living finding models for her drawings, usually drawing $80 per piece, on a good day. So, really, when she received a call from someone’s agent requesting a $500 commission, five drawings in all, she was flummoxed, overwhelmed, and ecstatic. She had been preparing for this day for a week, making sure everything was just in the right place, and that she had all the correct tools in order to create, what she was beginning to surmise, was her masterpiece.

In the small, messy studio, papers, charcoal, paints, and other tools of the trade were scattered about the floor. Her sketch book was prominent, seated in the middle of the room upon a wooden easel, with one white page staring outward – blank canvas, ready for her creativity. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, hairs sticking up haphazardly everywhere, as her jeans were rolled up to the knee and the strap of her kami fell over her shoulder. Her arms, calves, and her left cheek were spattered with paint, and from a distance one would assume that she seemed disorganized and stressed. However, were they ever wrong.

This was her element. She felt in tune with energies about her, and couldn’t, even for a moment, wipe away the smile that was plastered to her face. Her vibrant blue eyes searched the room, as she scrambled to make sure that everything was set for their appointment. From what she gathered, the man coming to visit her was an actor of sorts – a handsome young man, a bit of an Adonis, as described – which was something she enjoyed immensely. Good looking people were so fun to draw, since you could do anything you desired to them, and they would always look as beautiful as the moment they walked into the room. It was for this very same reason she loved nude models, though she wouldn’t push for that in this particular session. Maybe shirtless.

Maybe.

Russian music blasted through the entirety of the room, with a solid beat that her energy kept in time to as she bounced upon her heels, singing to herself idly. From within the creative cause, a small ring clamored through, and Sophie ran to the back of her studio, grabbing her phone, and answering it with a cheerful chirp: “Hello?”

She laughed, nodding to herself, as she stuck her pencil behind her ear. “Mama! Ey! Kak dela?” she bit her lip. “Horosho! V chem delo?”

From the other side of the studio, she could hear a resounding knock at the door. She went to her stereo and turned down the music, covering the mouthpiece of her phone as she addressed the person from behind the wooden portal: “Hello! It’s open! Come and make yourself comfortable inside!” Her nose scrunched as she grimaced at how absolutely Russian she sounded, before she bowed her head and addressed her mother again, waiting for the person to make their way inside.

^{STARRING : SOFIA && CHANCE
WORDS : 663
STATUS : FINISHED!
NOTES : WRITE SUMTHING
LYRICS USED : USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
LISTENING TO : Bad Apple
BANNER CREDIT : TANA
TAGGED : TANA}

[chance christopher caine]

Chance was definitely in need of a break from the busy week he had been having and for some reason or another, his agent had thought that it would be a good idea for him to go get himself sketched. Chance normally would have put up a fight and complained but after the long week he had so far, he wasn't really in the mood to argue and had finally agreed to go.

As he strolled up to the studio that he was suppose to be meeting the artist at, he climbed the stairs and knocked on the door before waiting for an answer. A few moments later, the voice of a young girl could be heard and she sounded like she was foreign. Possibly from Russia would be his guess. When she told him to go ahead and come inside and make himself comfortable, he stepped into the door and shut it behind him. The room was exactly how he would picture an art studio to look like. It had canvas and paint and all sorts of artistic material scattered about in a sort of organized mess. A slight smile raised the edges of his mouth as he looked around the room before spotting a couch next to a blank canvas that was ready to be filled.

Heading over to the couch, he stripped his jacket off, leaving him in a plain, slightly tight fitting t shirt with a pair of worn jeans and his shoes. Hanging the jacket on the edge of the couch, he didn't sit down just yet and instead looked over at the young dark haired girl that was talking away on the phone in Russian. He had been right about her orgins. A smile crossed his face once more before he finally took a seat on the couch and waited for the girl to come over to him.

His light blue eyes scanned the room for a moment more as he tried to figure out what was going to happen exactly. He had never had anyone draw him before. Most of the time he dealt with photography and photo shoots but never sketching him. He was a bit unsure but also excited to see how the finished product would turn out. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his phone out before turning it on silent and placed it back in his pocket before waiting for the young artist to get done on the phone.

[sofia alyona volkova]

The man entered, and, as expected, he was the pinnacle of gorgeousness. Her mouth dropped slightly at the sight of him, and she coughed nervously as she barely paid attention to the tirade that her mother was committed to on the phone. Sofia blinked once, smiling at the man reassuringly as she gave him a gesture indicating that she wouldn’t keep him waiting long. “Mama... U menya yestʹklient,” she murmured to her, giggling. From the earpiece of the phone could be heard words, questioning in nature, and Sofia fell silent as she looked the man up and down.

“Malchik,” she said.

Another query could be heard. Sophie’s sapphire eyes gave him another look over, and she smirked as she giggled and replied quickly into the phone:

“Da, on seksualʹnyi,” she said. “Da, da, Mama, tozhe tebya lyublyu… Bye-bye.”

With a gentle sigh she hung up, setting her phone on the counter beside her as she gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she murmured to him, as she began to approach. “I won’t keep you waiting any longer. So we should start, yes?” Her vibrant smile lit up her face as she pulled the pencil from behind her ear, placing the eraser against her teeth for them to idly chew away at it. Her calculating stare was piercing, navigating each detail of his form with a practiced sort of prowess. As she drew near him, she offered her hand. “My name is Sofia,” she said to him, sounding beside herself with delight as she placed her pencil behind her ear again. “But you may call me Sophie if you like.”

As soon as he released her hand she traversed to the side of the room, grabbing a digital camera that sat upon a pile of used papers. Without much pomp or circumstance, and aim or care, she began to snap photos of him as she walked all around him. “Your agent tell me that your name was… Chance,” she said, pausing as she reached his name to make she said it right. “He also said that you haven’t really been sketched before, that is true, yes?”

She glanced down at the visor upon the camera, flipping through the pictures that she had just taken, smiling with glee, and giggling as each new picture filled the screen. Her ebony bangs fell forward, and prompted her to pull them back against her ear, and she quietly reached for her sketch pad. She set the camera on the table with a picture she liked, so it was staring directly back at her, as she looked at him again. “I do things differently than most artists,” she said, her voice cloyingly sweet as she sat down on the ground. Her bare feet dug into the papers strewn about, and she pulled the pencil from behind her ear again, letting it rest deftly between her fingers. “I don’t ask you to pose, is not natural. I like to capture the essence of the person I am drawing, you see. So you can talk, or move about the room, or do whatever you please. I want for you to be Chance for me.” She nodded and her delicate arms gesticulated about the room, indicating the amount of freedom that she would allow him to have as she worked. Gnawing on her lip, she glanced between the picture and the real thing, as if she were juxtaposing the two images in the recesses of her mind.

He was a lovely sight to behold. Everything about him was firm and strong, the contours of his body like solid foundation of a building. He was the very essence of a walking sculpture. Everything from his jawline to his muscles seemed to have been chiseled by a great artist. His brow was prominent, and his eyes were piercing. Examining him now was excitement to her, with every new glance bringing her to notice new details about his body, face and clothes. She was nervous in a way, hoping that she could capture his visage in a way that did him justice.

She began to mark bits and pieces of the paper with her pencil, humming softly to herself before addressing him again: “You should tell me about yourself,” she told him, not even looking up from her sketch pad. “That way I can show who you are through my drawings. Art is not so much about copying a person than it is capturing them, you know? You are actor, which means you must be charismatic, yes? And your firm jaw,” she reached up then to indicate her own delicate one, as she lifted her chin upward, “In Russia, they say that a man with firm jawline is strong in his spirit and pride…”

With another smile, her sapphire eyes stole a glance up at him. “Is that you?” she asked.

^{STARRING : SOFIA && CHANCE
WORDS : 807
STATUS : FINISHED!
NOTES : meow
LYRICS USED : USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
LISTENING TO : Bad Apple
BANNER CREDIT : TANA
TAGGED : TANA}

[chance christopher caine]

As Chance sat on the couch, waiting for her to come over so they could begin. His eyes watched her for a moment, catching her looking over at him before she would speak something into the phone that he didn't understand. A moment later she had hung up and was on her way over to him. She apologized and he shrugged it off as he rose to his feet to shake her hand as well, a soft smile on her face. As she went to get her camera, his light blue eyes followed her and he looked her over thoughtfully. She was a very pretty young girl, probably only eighteen or nineteen would be his guess. He smiled a bit to himself as she came back over to him and stared at him before she began snapping pictures of him standing there. When she spoke, he was glad to have the distraction, unsure if he should smile or do something for the pictures she was taking of him.

"Yeah that's right. This is my first time being drawn." he replied, smiling a bit. It had been quite awhile since he had been new to something. Especially since he was an A list actor, he knew what he was doing and was well paid because of it. When she sat down with her sketchpad, he sat down on the arm of the couch, leaning towards her a bit as she made a few scribbles here and there on the paper. He wanted to know more about this girl. She was different and foreign and he found her to be quite intriguing.

When she asked him to tell her about himself, he thought for a moment and she explained that his jawline meant he was strong in spirit and pride. He smiled a bit and glanced down at the floor for a moment before turning his light blue gaze to look at her once more.

"Yeah I guess you could say that's me. And as far as I go, there's not much to know. I'm a spoiled rich boy with a dad that's never home and a mom that died when I was seven. I don't have a girlfriend and I sleep around a lot. Not a very pretty picture." he replied, glancing away after he finished. He normally wouldn't have told anyone that but for some reason he didn't care if she knew or not. He almost wanted her to know because he wanted someone to know. And she seemed easy to talk to and trustworthy. Something about her made him feel like he wouldn't be judged for the shitty life he had and the shitty stuff he had done in his life and was still doing.

[sofia alyona volkova]

Offhandedly, her voice rose from the silence that consumed them both as she continued to furiously sketch upon the pad, soft scratching sounds coming from the contact between graphite and paper: “Everything about you is pretty picture,” she said, squinting at him before drawing her pencil downward. “And there is plenty to know. Every life holds a story to tell, and your eyes…” she glanced up at him, pointing the end of her pencil at his eyes. “They speak wonders to me.” She bowed her head, crossing her legs over each other before sighing out. “You sell yourself short, which is a sad thing to hear…”

She leaned to her left, grabbing a bit of charcoal, and evident from her hand work, she seemed to be darkening the lines that she had created on the paper. It was second nature to her to spill her thoughts as she worked, and found she could concentrate better under the constant stimulation. She sung quietly to herself in Russian as the hushed music in the background came to its crescendo, and hummed when silence reigned between them again, which was broken only upon her own volition.

“Does it sadden you that you do the things you do?” she asked curiously, twirling the pencil in her hand as she looked over the work in progress piece. She hummed again to herself, and grabbed a large eraser that sat to her right, and furiously began erasing bits and pieces she found offending to the sketch. “It only sounds as if you are free spirit… unconstrained by the ties of this earth. Unless it is stability you wish to find in your life? I do not know, I only make assumptions.” Her bangs fell forward, tracing against the paper as she began to haphazardly make lines about the page. From outside, it must have looked random – though her chaos had a system, and the unorthodox way she went about sketching ended in piece that just screamed “Sofia did this.” She made a delighted squeak, which was evidence enough that she was happy with what she had done thus far, even if, from a distance, what was displayed upon the pad so far was rudimentary and rough.

“I must sound cheesy,” she said, giggling, as she stood and approached him. Her soft, small hands came to his face and she used her fingers to trace the lines of his jaw, cheeks, nose, lips and brow. Her sapphire eyes scanned his face more closely now, taking mental notes of the details that she couldn’t see from the distance. “And I hope you are okay with touch,” she added, inwardly berating herself for entering his personal space without permission. There was no use stopping it though, as she traced her fingers downward to feel his neck, and then toward his shoulders, before she grasped his hands in her own. She opened his palms outward, letting the pads of her fingertips take in the texture of his coarse palms and knuckles. “You, like many other people, have a certain beauty, and I don’t want to leave out anything.” She looked at him directly in the eyes, then, smiling in a beguiling manner before tearing herself away and back to her sketchpad.

With new details in mind, posing him within her imagination, she began to work with gusto. The sketches were still relatively rudimentary, wherein she continued to map out the structure of his face, neck, and shoulders. Time, in that instant, seemed irrelevant. Then again, time to Sophie had always been irrelevant. So how much time had passed between them in silence was lost upon her, as she diligently worked upon the page. It was within this entrapping silence that she looked up at him again, schooling her face cutely as she addressed him:

“Chance,” she cooed. “Look at me directly and smile, please.”

^{STARRING : SOFIA && CHANCE
WORDS : 807
STATUS : FINISHED!
NOTES : meow
LYRICS USED : USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
LISTENING TO : Bad Apple
BANNER CREDIT : TANA
TAGGED : TANA}

[chance christopher caine]

As she worked on the sketch, glancing up at him to make sure she was getting his features the way she wanted them. She spoke and for the most part, he sat still and listened to her, trying to sneak a peek at her drawing whenever the opportunity arose though she did a pretty good job of keeping it tilted away from him so she could continue sketching. A soft smile played at his lips as he finally gave up on peeking and instead sat up a bit, still sitting on the arm of the couch so he was closest to her. When she asked him if he wasn't happy with some of the things he did he felt the smile slide from his face and his eyes stared at the floor for a moment, his brow furrowing a bit as he thought about her question for a long moment before replying.

"I guess I'm not happy with some of the things I do but it's who I've been and who I am so I don't know what else to do or who else to be." he replied, slightly confusing himself with his answer. How could he be anyone other than himself? Was he being himself? He didn't know. All he knew was that life was complicated and he didn't want it to be. So most of the time he spent his time trying to forget about all of the complicated things that life had to bring and just focus on what was easy and what he knew. Like sex, parties, alcohol, fame. All of those things came naturally to him and he had grown use to them. Why should he move away from the things he was good at?

When she came towards him and ran her hands along his face, shoulders and chest, he smiled a bit and kept his eyes locked on her face, his light blue eyes watched her with interest as she took in all of his features before going back to her sketch. He found himself wondering how she saw things so simply and straight forward and in such an artistic way.

Finally pushing all of the annoyingly confusing thoughts from his head, her voice pulled his gaze up to meet her blue eyes as she asked him to look at her and smile. He let his gaze come to rest on her face before letting a soft smile make it's way across his face as he watched her. He felt the smile spread a bit wider as he watched her focus on him. It was almost like she wasn't looking at him but instead looking at everything he was. It was all very intense and confusing to him. He almost felt vulnerable because he couldn't put his usual badass, ladies man front up to protect himself. It was different with her. He didn't have to hide nor could he hide who he really was when he himself didn't even know who he really was.

[sofia alyona volkova]

 
His smile, like spring rain, was gentle and beguiling. She could sense it from the very moment his lips parted, revealing glistening white teeth. It wasn’t a perfect smile in its beauty. It was perfect in its simplicity and its sincerity. It was the smile of a man who had seen and done too much, who hid himself too often to protect something secret inside. She knew that smile well; since it was one she wore often herself. It was tired most of the time, pleading in some ways, beguiling in others. It was in that smile she witnessed that she realized she knew how to capture him, and furiously continued to work on her drawing.

Her frazzled black hair tossed about as her entire body bounced with energy, since the realization seemed to infuse her with an abundance of excitement. The discovery felt as if she had found something crucially important, and stemmed from the confidence she gained in realizing that she would do his image justice. Breaking into the core of a person was a way to capture their essence, and now she had ample time to express it and extend it into a series that would hopefully reach the eyes of others. It was strange in her sudden desire to share the discovery she had just found with others, in the hopes that they would see what she saw within that soft grin.

That was Chance.

Every so often, when she glanced up, she noticed that he was trying to take a peek at her drawing. That was to be expected, since people were naturally curious. She knew that any other artist would have been annoyed with the prospect of someone watching them create with someone hovering over their shoulder; but, it in no way bothered Sophie. In fact, she enjoyed it, especially if it were the model watching. It was integrating the subject into the process, which was something she enjoyed immensely. She smiled at him, turning her sketchpad toward him so he could see what she had done so far. “Is not much,” she muttered, her accent thicker than usual. The page was covered in the rough structure of his face, the lines and contours that made up his visage, which was slowly coming together to give an idea of what she was drawing. She turned the page back around and continued to work, shrugging as one of her straps fell over her shoulder. “Realism is time consuming. You do the structure, and then you start the details on one part, and work your way outward… So it doesn’t look perfect right now.” Her eyes glimmered with excitement, then, as her azure eyes swept over his body. “But I think you’ll be pleased when I am finished…”

With a small yawn, she stretched upward, waving her wrist from ache before continuing. Sighing through her nose, she re-crossed her legs, and stretched her back upward. “I heard you are famous actor,” she said, licking her bottom lip as she applied charcoal to the drawing again. “So are you in between films? Do you like acting? I find it interesting – I love art forms. If I had talent, I would have tried acting for a while.”

^{STARRING : SOFIA && CHANCE
WORDS : 807
STATUS : FINISHED!
NOTES : meow
LYRICS USED : USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
LISTENING TO : Bad Apple
BANNER CREDIT : TANA
TAGGED : TANA}

[chance christopher caine]

When she turned the paper around so he could see it, he smiled as he looked at the drawing. He had to admit she was quite talented, even with just the basic, rough sketch, it was still very well done and you could easily tell what it was that she was drawing and who it was. When she turned it back around to work some more, he smiled as she started working once more with even more energy than she had before.

When she asked him about being an actor, he thought for a moment, letting her finish speaking before he voiced his thoughts out loud.

"Yeah acting is a lot of fun. That and football are really the two things that I enjoy doing. And the fact that it's paid well doesn't hurt either. It helps me not have to rely on my father for money anymore." he replied, though his mind wandered over to the thought that he did still rely on his father even though he didn't have to.

He still lived in the huge beach house mansion that him and his father and mother had lived in when he was growing up. But when his mother died from cancer when he was seven, his father spent the rest of his time in New York, living up there so he could be closer to the headquarters of the massive cooperation he owned. Part of Chance knew that the main reason he still lives in his father's house even though he is the only one there besides the maid and the butler is because he feels that if he would leave then he wouldn't feel like he had a family at all.

A sort of new sadness spread across Chance's face and he furrowed his brows a bit at this new realization but quickly cleared his throat and wiped the expression from his face before turning back to look at her. He knew that it wouldn't be too hard to figure out why he was looking so sad and down, especially since he had already told her about the basis of his life. Plus she seemed pretty good at reading his expressions and telling what he was thinking even if he didn't know himself.