The Bluestocking 2022-23

takes readers into the fascinating and horrid world of the super-rich while we present a sympathetic, genuine person.”

Billy stretched. “So what else do you need?”

“Whatever you have.”

The next day, I found Billy standing outside my tiny apartment with approximately fifteen other people who he claimed were Maxwell’s friends and associates. “Good enough?”

My jaw dropped. “Next time, pick somewhere bigger.”

I interviewed the crowd one at a time. They talked about vastly different encounters they had with Maxwell, crying and laughing at the perfect times. But their answers portrayed the same person, and without exception, everyone regarded the artist highly. “He was kind, sweet, with a tint of sadness in him, man of my dreams.” “Art was all he had, everything that kept him going!” “I’ve never seen a more dedicated and exception al student than Jon. Truly a pity that he…”

“Thank you so much for coming,” I said, shaking hands after hands. “My deepest condolences.”

“We’re having an exhibition for Jon starting next week,” said Billy, crossing his arms in content. “I’m also hosting an auction soon, starring his paintings. You should come.”

“I’ll put that in the article,” I said. “Just sell the paintings at a good price. I’ll get fired if the story doesn’t blow up.”

And, thank goodness, it did. Overnight, Jonathan Maxwell was everywhere. Newspa pers, TV channels - he was a rising star. Billy’s art exhibition oversold its tickets, and the auction profited a whopping $120 million. The Maxwell family sought new busi ness connections. The Lumination got funded millions through the paintings. Billy re-started his acting career using his fame, and me, newly-made millionaire Quinn Zimmerman, got a raise. Everything unfolded perfectly, until I received a call from Maxwell’s father.