“I saw the angel in the marble and carved it until I set it free.”

The students, buried in their work, only listened as the tall, older man walked by them and shouted the quote.  The sunny day drifted in through the large windows, illuminating the mess of art and the products of it.  Paintings, sculptures, and works in progress littered the room.  In the middle, a small circle of young men and women worked on various pieces of art.  The man paused by one such student.  Early twenties, with freckles all over her body.  Her red hair tied up in a ponytail as she sculpted a man holding an apple in clay.  Transfixed by her art she worked even as the instructor stood behind her.

“Michelangelo is attributed with that quote.  And I believe it.  Artists do not see a piece of paper or a lump of clay and wonder what they can make out of it.  An artist sees the finished piece in their mind, and goes about freeing it onto their canvas for the world to see.”

The man put his hand on the young woman’s shoulder.  He gave it a slow and easy squeeze until she paused and looked at him.  She smiled.

“So, how do you think I am doing in that regard, Mr. Pelletier?”

The man smiled, showing wrinkles from a life of luxury and sun.  He looked at the sculpture and nodded.

“It is missing something, Ava.”

He walked away without another word, continuing to talk about art and artists.  Ava stood there, stunned.  She looked back at the sculpture in disbelief.

For the rest of the class Ava only heard water sloshing around in her ears.  She paid no attention to anything else except trying to figure out what Mr. Pelletier meant.

When the class dispersed, she felt no closer to the answer.

“Are you going to stay here all day, Ava?”

She looked to her left to see Mr. Pelletier watching her with an amused look in his eyes.  The man reeked of professionalism, from the sharp suit to the perfect skin and hair.  She turned to face him and wiped her hands off on a rag.

“I’m trying to see what you see.”

“Well, that is impossible, Ava.”

“You know what I mean.  I was on a roll.  And, with one sentence, I’m completely taken off my game.  I’ve been looking, and looking, and I can’t see what you mean.  Can you help me, please?”

Mr. Pelletier chuckled softly.  “My dear Ava, is one man’s word enough to throw you from the artistic fever I caught you in?  Are you that insecure about your own ability?”

Ava gripped the rag with her hands, wringing it in frustration.  “No, sir, I am not.  You know I am not.  My work and the awards I have won with it prove that.  But, we don’t come to you for anything less than razor-sharp feedback.  And you know that I’ve followed your work for years.  Your feedback above anyone else means a lot to me.”

Mr. Pelletier nodded, tapping his bottom lip with his finger.  “I see.”

He walked back to the sculpture.  Ava followed behind him, curious.  He regarded the sculpture for what seemed like days to Ava.  She clenched her jaw, wanting to ask but knowing to stay silent.

Mr. Pelletier caught her nervous stature out of the corner of his eye.  He smiled.

“It is technically proficient.  It has a good style, and I like the pose.  You have found your voice.”

“But.”

“You always expect a ‘but’, don’t you?  Tell me, were your parents supportive of this endeavor for you?”

“My Dad was a little hard on me.  Said if I wanted to waste money being an artist I needed to be good.”

“Ah, and so that has manifested in you being unable to accept a compliment without hearing the negative.  Because to you, there must be a negative.”

Ava stood there, stunned as Mr. Pelletier walked around the sculpture.

“Yes, yes.  I see it now.  I think I have an idea.  See me tomorrow, and I think I have a solution to what you need.”

“O-okay,” Ava said, looking around.  “Can you at least tell me what you see?”

Mr. Pelletier stopped in front of Ava.  “You will be a great artist.  You are only missing one thing.”

He jabbed her in the chest with a finger.  “Heart.  You need to understand what it is to be the art, to be revealed to the world.”

Ava raised an eyebrow.  “What?”

“To understand art, you must be art.”

Ava chuckled.  “Well, how can I be this?” She said, motioning to her sculpture.  “Be a statue?”

Mr. Pelletier’s smile unnerved Ava slightly.  “Perhaps.  Now.  Go.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ava walked out of the room, her head spinning but hopeful for the next day.

***

“Ah, Ava, perfect.  Come here.”

Ava, two steps into the room, snapped her head toward Mr. Pelletier.  He motioned for her to come to him, where he stood by another student.  Ava remembered her name.  Mandy.  A very shy sculpture with curly blonde hair and big eyes.  She flashed Ava a little smile as Ava approached.

“I’m glad both of you are so early today,” Mr. Pelletier said.  “Because I have given quite a lot of thought to the two of you.”

Ava shared a look with Mandy.  Ava spent most of the night thinking of what Mr. Pelletier meant yesterday and what he had in store for them today.

Mr. Pelletier put his hands behind his back and started to pace around the room.  “As you know, I’ve been retired for many years.  And yet, I have been more involved in the art community than when I was a sculptor.”

Mr. Pelletier turned to face the two young women.  “Do you know of my parties?”

Ava’s eyes went wide.  She saw the social media photos, few as they were.  To her, looking at who attended those parties played like a game of “Where’s Waldo” except she knew every single person in the crowd.

“I see you do, Ava.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pelletier,” Mandy said with a squeak of a voice.

“Don’t be.  My parties are very exclusive and private.  To know of them, let alone see evidence of them, requires a very curious,” Mr. Pelletier stared at Ava, “And determined mind.  I do not make word of these parties public, and have excommunicated those who have leaked them.”

Ava gulped.

“I want you two at the next party.”

Ava felt the floor give way beneath her.  She stammered and gripped the nearest desk to compose herself.

“U-us?  But why?” Many asked.

“Because you two are on the cusp of being great artists.  Perhaps even greater than I.  But, both of you lack a keen skill that I think is required.  That is to understand art.  To be the art.  I think if you two attended one of my parties you would understand.  There are a great many minds there, a great many artists who can share what they know.  I can say without hesitation that this would be life-changing for the both of you.  Of course, I will have to draft a few NDA’s for you to sign.  As I said, I keep my secrets.”

“Even the secret on how you got your sculptures to be so photo-realistic?  So perfect?” Ava asked, tipsy on the opportunity before her.

Mr. Pelletier smiled.  “I think that very thing will be revealed to you two, yes.  Now, are you–”

“Yes!” Shouted Mandy, covering her mouth in embarrassment after her outburst.

Mr. Pelletier chuckled.  He turned to Ava.  “And you, dear Ava?”

Ava nodded.  “Of course, Mr. Pelletier.  I would be honored.”

Mr. Pelletier smiled and clasped his hands together.  “Excellent.  Wonderful.  This will make quite a party.  Now, before the rest get here, I do have to show you something.”

He motioned for them to follow to his computer.  With two chairs, Ava and Mandy sat down in front of the monitor.

“Due to the secrecy of this party, I do need to show you this simple video that explains the security and history of the event.  It’s usually given to the guests, but, well you’ll see why you two should watch it as well.”

Ava looked over at Mandy, confused.  Mandy seemed to share the same question in her eyes: if the two of them were not guests, what were they?

The screen flicked to life.  Both Mandy and Ava turned their attention back to the screen.  They saw Mr. Pelletier in front of a large desk, staring directly into the camera.

Then, the flashes started.  Ava barely noticed at first, but as she concentrated, the screen started to flash more and more.  

“Guh,” Ava said, attempting to ask Mr. Pelletier about the lights.

“Just watch, ladies,” Mr. Pelletier said.

Ava found herself leaning in closer and closer.  The flashes kept her blinking and blinking.  She wanted to watch more.  Hear more.  Yet, the flashes kept her blinking.

Finally, she closed her eyes.  

“And that’s it.”

Ava blinked and shook her head.  Her eyes spun as she attempted to focus on the world once more.  She focused on the screen and saw the video finished.  She wiped a small pool of saliva from the corner of her lips.  Mr. Pelletier looked at both women.

“Are you okay?  Did you understand?”

“Y-yeah,” Ava said, concerned about her dozing off in front of her teacher.

“All right.  Then, let’s get ready.  I see some folks entering.  I’ll see you two at two o’clock sharp Saturday afternoon.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Mandy said, rubbing her head.

Ava met Mandy’s eyes as they got up and walked out of the room.  Ava wanted to ask Mandy if she felt as light-headed and woozy as Ava, but then Mandy’s friend entered the room.  Whatever discomfort Mandy shared with Ava, a few moments with her friend seemed to wash all of that away.

Ava went to her sculpture and looked at it.  Really looked at it.  She found herself almost envious of the piece.  Standing still and rigid.  A work of art.

“Saturday at two,” she said to herself.

***

Ava showed up at the same moment as Mandy.  The large highrise stood out in an affluent neighborhood.  Ava felt richer standing next to the building.

Like Ava, Mandy came dressed well beyond their own comfort.  Mandy’s transformation with makeup and a slinky white dress stunned Ava.  Ava felt a little insecure next to the mousey and quiet woman.

“You look amazing,” Mandy whispered as they entered the highrise.  Mandy gawked at Ava, also done up with makeup and a red dress that showed off ample cleavage.

Ava felt better as the woman looked her over real close.  Now she felt on equal footing.

The doorman checked them both out, but seemingly knew exactly why they were there and for whom.  He ushered them to a private elevator and held the door open for them.  Nervous and excited, they entered the elevator.

“Do you think we’ll fit in?” Mandy asked as the door closed and the elevator rose.

“No,” Ava said with a laugh, “But Mr. Pelletier knows that.  He’ll take good care of us.”

“Good care of us,” Mandy repeated, a little distant.

Ava shook her head.  She could hear Mr. Pelletier telling her those exact words in her head.

Before they could compose themselves, the doors opened.  They walked out into a grand hallway and a foyer that looked the size of Ava’s apartment.  Mr. Pelletier stood in the center with his hands behind his back.  He smiled wide.

“Ladies, you are simply magnificent,” he said, walking over to them.

Mandy and Ava blushed.  Mr. Pelletier moved his hands to his front.  He held a small box in his hands with a LED light in the front.

“Are you two ready to understand truly what art is, to get inside of it and be the art itself?”

Mandy and Ava looked at one another, confused.

Mr. Pelletier turned on the box.  The lights flashed and both women’s heads snapped to the light.

Flash.  Flash.  Ava stood there, stunned.

The flashing changed colors.  More and more rapid flashes almost hurt Ava’s brain.  She opened her mouth to speak.

Only, she found her throat silent.  Still.  She felt something deep inside of her stir.  A heaviness.  Stiffness.

Her body started to move.  Slowly.  Into a model position.  Chest out, hips out, one leg in front of the other.  Ava felt out of control of her body.  Worse, as she moved, she felt stiffer and heavier.  When her body stopped, she found herself unable to move.

She managed to catch a glimpse of Mandy in the corner of her eye.  Mandy too moved slowly, striking a different but also overt sexual pose.  She too froze in position.

Ava tried to open her mouth, talk, or do anything.  To her horror, she felt the stiffness, the heaviness crawling up her body.  Soon it overtook her neck.

“Perfect, you two will be perfect,” Mr. Pelletier said, turning off the box.  He snapped his fingers.  Men in suits appeared at his side.  “Gentlemen, disrobe them.”

Ava tried to widen her eyes in surprise, but no body part obeyed her instructions.  She stood there, frozen in place, as men took off her dress, shoes, underwear, and bra.  The deep embarrassment and terror flowed in her body without release.

Mr. Pelletier held up the box to her eyes.

Flash.  Flash.  Flash.

“Sleep now.”

***

“---ladies and gentlemen, it brings me great honor to see you all here today.”

Ava’s mind crawled back to reality, and she found herself in darkness.  She felt something velvet smooth and stimulating covering her body.  She heard noise all around her.  Still frozen, still unable to move.  She listened to Mr. Pelletier.

“As you know, time and disease have ravaged these hands.  I am unable to sculpt as I once did.  I felt that would be the end of my career, my station in life to usher in new artists and hold these parties.  But, as you know, I have found new ways to make statues, to sculpt the perfect human form.  I know a lot of you are excited for my next pieces.  I want to say I have the highest confidence that both of these women you see today will be amazing artists in their field.  Today they are here to experience what it is like to be art.  May I present to you, youthful temptation.”

The blanket covering Ava’s body that titillated her skin suddenly disappeared as someone ripped it off.  Ava stood naked to the world, posed as only Mr. Pelletier commanded.  The crowd gasped and awed in approval.  She could feel all their eyes on her.  Staring at her.  Drinking her in.  Admiring her.

She felt curiously aroused.  Terrified.  Humiliated.  And yet, there was nothing she could do.  But stand there, frozen.  A statue.

A piece of art.

Ava started to finally understand what it was like to be art.  To be something admired and cherished.

To be the centerpiece of the party.