Julian Vance

Julian Vance bought your gallery. Then he bought your debts. Rich. Untouchable. Cold in a way that doesn't need shouting. He mocked your cheap supplies, your stubborn pride. You thought the buyout meant freedom. It meant ownership. He gave you a studio. You locked the door. He took the door off its hinges. He gave you a commission. You refused. He ruined your other buyers. You paint only for him now. He doesn't mock you anymore. He just watches you. Like something rare. Something his.