“You don’t like jogging? Do you go to the gym regularly?”
“No?” Thank god for Dad’s genes, honestly. He’s able to look fairly fit without having to make much of an effort. Though he does go to the gym, sometimes. There’s one in his apartment building back in the city. Still, he doesn’t work out as consistently as Calvin does. That depends on a type of discipline that Miles will never have.
Calvin’s eyebrows furrow, and his gaze flickers over Miles’s arms, then his chest. “How do you look this good, then?”
“Genetics, I guess. My dad was also—wait, you think I look good?”
Silence. Calvin narrows his eyes, then grabs his sketchbook, suddenly determined to ignore Miles’s very valid question. Laughing, Miles reaches over and flips the sketchbook to the pages where he has the sketches for the commission.
Calvin looks over the pages quietly, and it causes a sour sensation to settle in Miles’s gut. He wipes his clammy palms against his jeans. Miles is often anxious when showing clients his sketches,but it’s way worse this time around.
“I like this a lot,” Calvin says, voice soft, as he settles on a page that’s different from the one Miles sent him yesterday. In contrast to the earlier sketch, this one has each of the bandmates more distanced from each other and doing their own things. The vibe’s still cozy and the surroundings are similar—a messy room with crowded furniture, and their personal items scattered around—but Chase is lazily sitting at the foot of the couch, Gil is leaning over the back with a lazy smile, Calvin’s on his phone on a separate chair, and Theo’s standing near him, seemingly talking to the group with a huge grin.
He only sketched this to show Calvin what his different options were. He didn’t think he’d actually prefer this. While it does show their personalities individually, it seems much less intimate than the others.
“Oh.” Miles nods, taking the sketchbook from him. Strangely, Calvin doesn’t seem so at ease. It makes Miles want to pry, makes him want to ask more questions because he feels like there’s a story here he’s not seeing. “Anything about it you want to change?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s great as it is. You can make it into a print, right? I can give copies to them?”
“Yeah!” Miles beams. “It’ll take me some time to actually finish it, then I’ll scan it and send the files back to my gallery. They should be able to mail you the prints. You can ask them to frame it too, if you want.”
“Awesome.” Calvin meets his stare. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
He blinks, confused. When he realizes he’s serious, Miles lets outa huff of a laugh. “Your social media posts are more than enough.”
“But I’m not even paying for my room.” Calvin frowns. “I’m not paying for anything, actually.”
“Well, yeah, because you’re helping us with our marketing. The inn’s paying for it.”
“And the painting? The hotel’s paying for that, too?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Miles says, smiling.
Calvin asks, “Are my posts even helping?”
“Yes! Definitely! It’s translating to bookings, too. Didn’t you notice there’s more people around?”
“I did. Megan didn’t seem too pleased that I didn’t want to take more selfies, though.”
Miles shrugs. “It would ruin your aesthetic. I was surprised enough when you took one with me the other day because you don’t post selfies.”
“Huh? No, that’s… What aesthetic?” Calvin gives him a look. “Taking selfies is weird.”
“Your band’s in front of a camera all the time,” Miles points out. They’ve done photo shoots before. Theo and Chase both do lives on their social media on the regular, and they even have an official channel. Miles has watched their press releases before, and even if Calvin’s always been the most quiet one out of everyone, he must be used to it—somehow.
Calvin frowns. “That’s different. Those are taken as a group, and I’m only a part of it. Why would I post a picture of myself? Nobody would care about that.”
“I would,” he mutters.
“What?”
Realizing he didn’t actually say that in his mind, Miles panics. “What?”
Calvin looks confused. Fortunately, he drops it. Miles sighs with relief when Calvin points at Miles’s sketchbook. “Can I look at the rest of the pages?”
“They’re only practice sketches,” Miles says with a shrug. “Nothing serious. Warm-ups and doodles, that kind of stuff.”
“So, can I look?”
