novelxo Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE–A RUINED MURAL
He swept his disdainful glare around the rest of the stunned students. “Well? Any other takers wisely seeking an escape from this pathetic sham before it contaminates you further?”
Silence answered his taunting call, with everyone exchanging uneasy looks. Penelope regarded Marco with icy dislike, one perfected eyebrow arched.
Jacob simply returned the man’s sneer with sullen indifference. Even sweet Agnes seemed to puff up slightly, lips pursing in disapproval.
“I believe you’ve quite overstayed your unwelcome presence here,” Jasmine stated, voice hardening. Make your insulting sales pitch elsewhere, Marco. These are my students, and they’re remaining right where they belong.”
The arrogant man opened his mouth, undoubtedly to unleash another volley of scathing put–downs. But Diego abruptly cut him off, straightening to his full height as he stared Marco down defiantly.
“You heard the lady,” he proclaimed, a familiar imperiousness reasserting itself in historie. “This community center and its people are under her respectful tutelage now, you contemptuous jackass. Take your small–minded jealousies and choke on them.”
Marco’s handsome features contorted in an ugly sneer “So she’s got you thoroughly neutered and leashed, has she? How pitifully on–brand for a washed–up has–been like yourself.”
Without another word, he pivoted on his heel and stalked back towards the exit, shoulders tense. Just before reaching the doorway, however, Marco abruptly paused. Slowly turning back around, he fixed the mural with a look of pure, unvarnished loathing.
“Perhaps this grotesque defacement of proper artistic ideals will help persuade you sad souls of the truth…”
And just like that, he was blurring into motion. Quicker than anyone could react, Marco snatched up a bucket of thick crimson paint and flung its entire contents in a wide, viscous arc – splattering across the top third of their lovingly–rendered mural in a violent spray.
A collective gasp went up, the stunned silence only broken by the dull thudding of the now–empty paint bucket hitting the floor. Marco wasn’t done not by a longshot.
Seizing a brush loaded with inky black pigment, he slashed furious, wanton streaks across another section, obliterating hours of intricate detailing.
Jasmine was so stunned by his sudden, destructive actions that for one sickening heartbeat, she could only watch in frozen horror.
It was Diego who broke the spell, barreling towards Marco with a strangled bellow of outrage, fists clenched for combat.
Incredibly, Marco barely reacted to the larger man’s charge – merely standing his ground with a taunting smirk as he inflicted one final sabotage blow.
Snapping his wrist with surgical precision, he sent a spray of putrid yellow–green paint arcing squarely into Diego’s face and torso.
Diego recoiled with a howl, clawing uselessly at his blinded eyes as thick streams of the viscous pigment rolled down his face and chest in grotesque rivulets.
By the time he’d regained his bearings enough to strike, Marco was already casually strolling towards the exit, brushing non–existent lint from his designer blazer
“Sleep well in the bed–of obscurity you pathetic hacks have made together,” he threw over his shoulder with a cruel chuckle.
And just like that, the vile man had taken his ego–driver vengeance and sauntered out, leaving the classroom’s Inhabitants to gape and splutter in the wake of his vindictive path of destruction.
The next few minutes were a blur of shock and rising anger as the true scope of Marco’s vicious actions
took shape.
Jasmine felt her heart clench painfully in her chest at the sight of their once–vibrant mural defaced – so much more than just paint now, but a profound violation of the community’s spirit and pride they’d poured
into it.
“That absolute son of a bitch!”
Marcus’s furious voice pierced her stupor, his slight frame practically quivering with impotent rage as he paced before the ruined canvas, shooting venomous looks towards the exit Marco had used.
“Who does that pathetic troll douche think he is, ruining weeks of our hard work like that?”
“A bitter, deluded asshole with deep–seated self–esteem issues and an overly large trust fund, seems like,
Jacob muttered darkly.
Penelope tore her scandalized eyes from the travesty to aim her trademark authoritative look towards Jasmine. “So…what do we do now, in the face of such staggering pettiness and disrespect?”
For several pregnant beats, no one spoke. Jasmine was acutely aware of everyone’s eyes drilling into her leadingly, awaiting some kind of decisive plan or directive.
Drawing a steadying breath, she laced her fingers atop her easel and met their questioning looks with her most reassuring expression.
“Well, it’s simple, really,” she stated softly yet firmly. We do not allow this shameful tantrum to deter us from our mission or sully the power of what we’ve created.”
She reached down to dip her fingers in a nearby puddle of paint, transferring the vibrant hues with gentle; swirling motions across her palette.
“No, we carry on channeling the community’s spirit through our art. Elevating above the ugliness through our passion and truth. If one unenlightened fool seeks to tear us down…”
Moving to the mural, she carefully trailed brushstrokes across one of the scorched areas, repairing the damage with subtlety and grace, “…then we simply rebuild stronger and more resilient, rising above those toxic forces like a phoenix from the ashes.”
For several heartbeats, her students remained transfixed, watching her purposeful movements and renewal of their marred centerpiece in reverent silence
Then, seemingly of one accord, they all began surging forward unslinging brushes and palettes to heed her–inspiring call to action.
Over the next several hours, a profound transformation took place within the studio walls. What had begun as a scene of desecrated anger and frustration transmuted into an empowered assembly line of rebirth and rededication.
Side–by–side and brush–by–brush, every gouge and stain Marco inflicted was coolly and meticulously un- done.
Yet instead of simply replicating the mural’s original details, each contributor allowed their own unique flourishes and embellishments to shine through as well.
Marcus’s signature harch graphic stylings restored sections with a defiant pop. Agnes’s delicate botanical motifs seemed to trail across repaired areas like balm–like salves for the wounds. Penelope added her minimalist, structured accents which grounded the piece’s gravitas.
Diego fell back into one of his familiar creative frenzies, fiery strokes practically dancing from his whirling
form.
And through it all, Jasmine steadily guided their collective energies streamlining their thematic efforts, harmonizing each individual expression into the greater vision, and even encouraging breaks when needed so spirits remained high and focused.