"So, how do you wanna do this?"

☆

"Paint me? As in like a life model?" Blake questions. 

"Yes, as in a life model." Tamesh clarifies. He heads to the shop door, pulling the now tatty advertisement down from it. "If you give me your time, say 50 hours for free, then you can just pay the last 10 hours worth." 

"50 hours?" Blake questions. 

"Yeah, like I said, that painting took me 60 hours to paint, so less your deposit, 50 hours."

Tamesh drops the advertisement on the counter for Blake to pick up. He studies the basic note, half pondering just to take the money instead, but his other castings he went on could bring in the cash, but again they may not. Plus this was kind of a modeling job of sorts. Just not the type he was used to. "Ok, I'll do it!" He says decisively, slapping his hand on the paper, looking up at a rather surprised Tamesh.

"You'll do it?" He confirms, wanting to make sure he'd heard correctly. He was all ready for the persuasive hard sell, but it seemed it wasn't even necessary. 

"Yeah, it's no biggie. I'm a model anyway." Blake laughs.

"You're ..you're a life model?" Tamesh questions. Blake did not really fit the usual description of the life models he was made to sketch whilst at art college, with their aged folds and wrinkles. 

"No, a 'model' model. You know, runways, photoshoots, catalogues, that kind of thing." Blake says smiling back at Tamesh like it was obvious. 

Tamesh just forms an 'o' shape with his mouth. That explanation makes much more sense.

There is a brief moment of awkward silence when both males don't quite know where to take this new direction they have found themselves in. Blake eventually speaks. "So when do you wanna start this? Do you wanna just do it now or..."

"Uh...yeah, I guess we could." The sudden change in Tamesh's plans throws him completely and as result, he finds himself in a state of absentmindedness, as he goes to reach for a paintbrush from his cart, picking one up before then thinking again and putting it back down, with him now pulling out his sketchpad and looking under his counter for some charcoal or a graphite pencil, but only managing to locate a biro. 

Blake just watches the bumbling artist with amusement, a smirk curling up in the corner of his mouth. "Hey... I'm Blake by the way." He holds out his hand. 

Tamesh stops what he's doing. Looking up over the counter from his bent over position. He sees the outstretched hand and takes it. "T...Tamesh." He manages to say. The simple interaction, managing to calm him down just a fraction and find his mind. "Just call me Tam." He manages to finally come to his senses as he clears his throat to speak. "My workspace is out back. Follow me." He drags his trusty cart through a doorway with a beaded curtain hanging from it, the word 'private' hand painted on some chipboard displayed over the top. 

Blake follows behind, with one of the laced beads getting slightly caught in his earring as he walks through, thankfully not causing him any damage.

Out the back, Blake sees to his left, another door marked private and to his right, one without a sign. Straight along the end of the corridor was a metal door, the words 'exit' written above it. 

Tamesh takes the door to the right, turning the handle and pushing it forward to reveal a medium sized room. As Blake follows, the smell of what he assumes is paint hits him. It is like the aroma he had smelt in the shop out front, but much stronger. 

There are a couple of big frosted glass windows, allowing light to flood the room, but not clear enough for people to see inside. Canvases unfinished and random artefacts were scattered around the room, with a couple of easels showcasing unfinished works. Blake could see one of the brown and green glass bottles in front of him on a small cloth covered table. The other just had a pencil drawing of what looked like a hand. 

"You already have a model?" Blake questions, pointing to the sketch.

"No, that's my hand!" Tamesh laughs. "I was just experimenting." He puts the cart to one side, pulling the hand sketch easel towards him and taking it down to only replace it with a blank canvas. 

Blake watches Tamesh busying around, wondering what he should do with himself. He sees a nearby stool and approaches the seat to pull it a little closer to the easel. 

Tamesh steps back from the ready to go canvas, glancing over to Blake, who was dusting the pad of the stool with the sleeve of his jacket. "Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee, juice?" He offers, causing Blake to look up. 

"Tea would be good, thanks." He replies, with Tamesh nodding with a smile and heading over to the small kitchenette area, where a kettle and a few mugs sat alongside brushes and jars. 

Tamesh busies himself with the tea making, thinking about how to best tackle his new subject matter. Creative ideas of Blake interacting with the still life were swirling around in his mind, but first he needed to study the man. It had been a few years since Tamesh had painted a person, he needed to sharpen his skills first, before he got too creative. 

Deciding on a course of action, Tamesh picks up the two mugs of tea, turning to see Blake sat casually on the stool, bouncing his heel up and down on the stool's leg, his fingers laced together. 

He offers up the tea to which Blake accepts. Taking a sip. "So..." Blake says a little apprehensively. "...how do you wanna do this?"