Chapter Two
In which she had learned the reason.
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[Ross Pagette Monstine.]
I couldn’t even touch my paintbrush.
Eyes focused on the canvas, I found myself shuddering. The very thought of painting, or sketching had always given me a sense of excitement. It felt like an escape, the very thing that pulls me away from the thoughts that continue to press through my everyday life. All that I had made had its meaning, reflecting all the emotions that had plagued my mind since I was young. From the loss of my birth mother to the hardships that had gone through my life.
For years, I had trained to keep everything in order.
And now, I couldn’t even do anything.
“Are you okay, Ms. Monstine?”
I withdrew back, looking at my art professor. He seemed genuinely confused to see my canvas so blank, as he often saw that I would be the first to do anything in relation to painting. It was easy to sense concern in such a situation, as it had never happened before. All topics that would be given to me would be automatic in my mind, and I rarely needed a second to think about what I needed to deliver.
Puffing a sigh, I gulped. “I apologize, Mr. Kver. I couldn’t think properly today.”
“That’s odd, coming from someone like you.” He mentioned, tilting his head to the side.
All of a sudden, the weight of how people had perceived my art feels so heavy—like a burden. It was a feeling that I had never felt before in my art. The pieces that I made had always given me happiness, and rather than it being a core—I saw them as a way to reflect my emotions.
Mr. Kver had given me a number of pointers from time to time, and would often compliment how I do my craft. The man had always favored me since I am good at delivering what he always asked. “While I do understand that art block could happen to anyone, you can’t go home without passing anything, Ross. It is fine to have scribbles and pending words, just give me something.”
Fuck.
“Of course,” I found myself responding.
My hands felt the weight of the paintbrush; like it was a brick that I wasn’t supposed to lift. My mind felt like a blank slate, and I could not think of anything other than Ryli. The second that I had seen my sister in front of the easel, I couldn’t even bother to pick up the broken confidence that shattered after that. She could trample and dance over it if she wanted to—and I would never have the juts to even inch closer to it.
Even if I know that she was just starting, and wouldn’t compete with the years that I had spent perfecting mine—I couldn’t help but get scared at how she would handle her art. I seldom compare my art to other people, but with her works...
As the bell rang, and I had seen what I created—I knew that I had f****d up. It was nauseating seeing a piece that I don’t love, or something that doesn’t follow through with the subject that I was given. I could feel the confused expression on the professor’s face, figuring out what I had submitted.
“Please excuse me,” I muttered, not wanting to hear any criticism from the man.
Every passing second inside the workshop felt so suffocating like I could not breathe properly. The thoughts that continue to get louder in my head were slowly getting painful, yet I know that I needed to control myself. I could not cry in school halls, not when people knew me enough as Ryli’s younger sister.
“Ro?”
A sense of relief flashed through my chest, knowing the limit of people who calls me that nickname. Eyes searching for the source, I saw Vivian with a handpicked number of friends surrounding her. She easily excused herself, eyes focused on mine. She automatically knew something was wrong.
Whether it was my shaking body, or eyes that is close to tearing up—anything that indicated that I am freaking out was already enough for her. Vivian easily found a spot for us, reaching a desolate area with enough greenery to cover us.
I slid down, catching my breath.
“Ro,” she mumbled, slowly sinking down with me. Her sharp eyes focused on mine, only they were a tad softer than I remember them. “Is there something that I could do? Do you want some water? Refreshers? How can I help you?”
I just sobbed.
Her hands easily grabbed me, holding me close. Despite being unaware of what happened, or what triggered these emotions—she was there to offer me anything that could console me. It’s what made me grateful for having in this life. That despite what the world throws to me, I have friends who will be there through thick and thin.
“Is this about Ryli?” She asked, hands softly patting my head. “I noticed your face had been pale the second we saw her attending classes.”
I hitched a breath. “I don’t know. It’s just painful.”
Vivian is the mother of the group. How she easily detects things we all would try to hide always made her the person we would console when things are tough. She’s the emotional support of the group, and I would have lost myself a long time ago if it wasn’t for her.
“Should we go for a drive? Samantha made the mistake of lending me her car.”
My lips let out a staggered laugh, knowing how Samantha hated it when Vivian drives her car. Yet in situations where she would attend to a common subject between her and Elizabeth, she would rather have Vivian hold the keys to her baby.
“I would rather face this than Samantha’s wrath, thank you very much,” I replied.
Realizing that I wanted to face these uncertainties, Vivian did her best to stay by my side. She continued rambling things to calm my mind, effectively navigating it away from what made me panic. For someone who hardly ever said anything, I appreciated the effort that she shows me.
“I guess I just didn’t understand why she would do something like that,” I mumbled after a long silence between us. Her eyes followed mine as if urging me to continue sharing my thoughts. “Ryli had never been interested in arts, so to see her interested enough that she is attending classes poses some concern.”
“People would talk the second that they did hear,” Vivian mentioned.
That is one thing that I am most bothered about. Ryli’s given attention to painting would gather enough attention from people, and the second that people would be made noticed that I am also dabbling in that category—it would begin again. I was used to how people would compare us, not even batting an eye when everyone loudly express their opinion on our looks. That is why I hardly do anything that is slightly similar to Ryli.
For I do not like to be linked to her.
“Would it be possible for you two not to share that information?”
Vivian and I flinched, looking back at the sudden voice that joined us. It was the same man that I had seen in the atelier. His golden hair sparkled under the sun, with equally fair skin and enchanting eyes. Hands holding the strap of his bag, it seemed like he had heard a fraction of our conversation.
“Ryli doesn’t like people knowing that she’s attending classes in the atelier,” he continued, voice gruff and firm. Eyes squinting to us, he continued. “I understand that some people like to be involved in her life, but it wouldn’t hurt to give her some space to breathe. If she wanted people to know, she would tell.”
Vivian and I sat there, confused. Despite a sense of familiarity with this man, I wasn’t particularly sure what he was rabbling about. If we are talking about sharing information about Ryli attending art classes, the last person who would ever share such a thing wouldn’t be either me or my friends.
As the three were well aware of how long I had stood in the judgment of others.
“We weren’t planning on telling anyone,” Vivian mentioned, which seemed to ease the man. While he still did seem doubtful about the announcement, Vivian had continued on her sentence. Her hands pointed at me, informing him of who I was. “She’s Ryli’s sister. We are just confused about what caught her attention to gather some art classes. It isn’t gossip, just a friendly conversation.”
His eyes light up, a sigh escaping his lips. “Oh, that’s great. I apologize for the confrontation. Ryli is really adamant about attending, and it was only yesterday did she finally took the shot to give it a try. The last thing I wanted is to have people bring her down for trying.”
“Who—”
As the bell rang, I hardly had enough time to ask him for more information. He excused himself, walking back to the building. Seeing that it was my free hour, along with Vivian—we were both confused about what just happened. It was not surprising for people to get angry when it comes to Ryli, but he seemed genuinely worried about the news spreading about Ryli’s interest in art.
“Is he dating Ryli?” Vivian asked, eyes focused on me.
My forehead creased. “Why would Ryli date him?”
“Why wouldn’t she? Isn’t there a rumor that she was interested in him?”
“There is?”
Ryli is hardly linked to anyone, as she doesn’t particularly attend any social events. As my mind searched for a man who is linked to my sister, I couldn’t find the right person to name. Then again, I do not have that much knowledge about the things mentioned about Ryli. As long as my name isn’t uttered, I hardly ever bat an eye.
“Maybe he’s the reason why she’s attending classes.”
Vivian’s words caught my attention. It was true that nothing from our past ever indicated that she was interested to paint. Even when our parents bought me art materials, she hardly ever cared about it. She has her own things, and not once asked me if she could borrow mine.
For her to suddenly get interested in the craft all because of a man seems like a plausible thing. Ryli had been focused on her goal of graduating, so I would not be surprised if there’s one thing that would push her out of focus—it would be a man.
“Is he even qualified to get her attention out from studying?” I found myself asking, unaware that I had let out my thoughts.
Vivian looked at me, confused. “It’s Matthias O’Shea. Of course, he’s qualified.”
Matthias O’Shea?
As if being struck, I was reminded of a familiar face that I would see in Page’s dorm halls. It is one of K’s friends, someone who was studying to be a doctor. For a second, I understood why Ryli seemed distracted.
For she had always been interested in a man who has goals.
But for her to engage in attending the same art classes with him seemed odd. Is she dipping her toes in the water, because her affection is not answered? When Matthias talked to us, it did seem like he was worried—but as a friend would to their own.
Is Ryli having an unrequited love?