Favored by Indivia

13

Chapter Thirteen

In which she tried to see the good things.

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[Ross Pagette Monstine.]

I felt guilty about the whole set-up.

Everyone is so supportive the second I informed them that I would be replacing the other artist who had fought for our school. I know that a lot of students preferred me to represent our school for years. It is not a new thing that I paint—and most of my pieces are even sitting on the campus walls. My professors see good in my creation, so I was more than willing to share it with them.

Before, it used to invoke a good feeling for me.

However, when I spot them now—and see the pieces that I had made when I was proud of everything, I could not feel anything else. I did not know what made me share these with people. Why did I donate my art to the school, when I did not even like them? I was not even sure if I truly did not see good in them, or if I am just simply seeing all things that could be wrong with the piece.

After all, I am the meanest critic of myself.

My friends were giving me the time and space that I needed to go through this whole experience. They would still invite me to functions, but hardly needed some explanation when I cancel on them. Those three had always wanted me to enter a competition, so I could see the reason why they were loud enough to give me all the supposed lessons that I was taking to improve my skills. I would receive some good luck chocolates and some words of affirmation to inform me that I was the best. Everything that I had read through these passing days felt like a dose of torture that I did not even order.

What the f**k is going on in my life?

How did I get here?

I knew that I was doing something f****d up when I could not even share this with my friends. They are the type of friends I console with everything, and while I still have not explained everything there was between me and my sister—anything else under the sun was known to them. Then again, this event does have some relation to my sister.

Maybe it is why I find it hard to share it with them.

When I knew that I was making excuses to console myself that I was not doing something bad is already enough to know that I am indeed something shady.

“I feel like I am getting progressively worse,” Matthias mentioned, now reminding me that I was in the middle of the lesson. Looking over the entire thing that he had made, I noticed that whenever he would improve in detailing and shading—that is when he would doubt himself more. He had scanned through their references and for a while now, he had been able to go through the sketch without needed guidelines. That alone should be an accomplishment—but he hardly noticed it. My mind could not comprehend how he could see this as bad when he came from someone who can’t even draw stickmen properly. “It is, right? Am I too tired? or am I not doing enough?”

Many people who took the same course and lesson do have that thinking once in a while. None of us could see improvement until we really compare it to where we started. Some of us are even perfectionists enough to think that it was acceptable to see a huge comparison as the other picture in question was young and foolish—okay, it is me. Maybe I am a hypocrite, but I hate comparing my present art to the first one.

Of course, it would improve. I am learning things I did not know before.

What I wanted to know is—why is my art still not enough for me?

Remembering that Matthias was waiting for my judgment, I easily assured him. “I am still looking for the bad areas that you speak of, Matthias. This all seemed good to me,” pointing to the detail he added to the hair, I mumbled. “This gives it more depth. You are slowly learning how to add proper dimension, shaking, and even the proper color theory. Maybe it is because you’re slowly improving that you could not see how this is getting better every time.”

“I am improving? Not getting worse?”

“Do you want to remember where you started?” I asked, almost chuckling as I remembered what he had made me see on the first day that he is supposed to make me see what he had worked in the atelier. “There is nothing else that much worse than that Trust me..”

Matthias finally let out a laugh, and I could see that he seemed more serene than earlier. The tension that once bound him was gone in those small words. Not once could I do something like that. I would doubt myself more, or clearly place more pressure whenever people would give me compliments. Many people mentioned that it was my defense mechanism to humble myself—but I do not think that is possible.

Because who in their right mind hurt themselves by speaking so little of them? Nobody but me.

So I could never bounce back whenever someone gives me mindless compliments that I never fully understand. Is this the product when you are doing this whole thing simply because of your passion or interest? Am I this pressured and wounded all because I am seeing it as means to get above my sister?

Maybe it is that.

Matthias didn’t look like the type to get low esteem in things—but of course, he is still human. It is only natural that there are things that he feels inferior. Even when many would bow to his knees, wanting the brain he has inside that head, there are things that would make him do the same to others.

It was the art of life being fair.

“I have been learning in the atelier for a while, and I didn’t even get to this level. Everyone mentioned how it was impossible for me to get anyone else with what I had, but it seemed like you had proved them wrong.” He mentioned, and I know that he was pulling my leg. As if my earlier debate about the compliments were haunting my ass, he continued showing me with words that simply make things harder for me. I am sure that Matthias, was offering nothing but kindness. While it was a good gesture, not everyone see his words as a good thing.

Me, included.

The man often does this whenever he has the chance. While I say that he was simply buttering me up, he continued to admit that I am a lot more helpful than I give myself credit for.

Maybe like himself, I did not see it.

Of course, I could see that he did improve over time but I do not understand why I had the skill to help others—when I could hardly do the same to myself. No matter how hard I try to learn and try to fit back the steps that I had made before, nothing seemed to be working. All were against my odds, and I am terrified that Ryli was getting ahead of me while I am dragging this whole thing. Everyone is giving me excuses and some reason why I could not do the easy thing that I could before but I could hardly listen to them.

For me, it seemed like noise that all were willing to let me pass just because I was having a hard time. I had lived my life with people giving me excuses, and I did nothing but blindly listen.

“Should I then model for you?” Matthias asks, his eyes pierced through mine. While I know that look signifies that there is room for discussion—he forgot that in my world, that is not possible. He would often say the exact words when he felt like he had done enough. Even on the first day of the lesson, he was apprehensive to accept the lesson without paying me first. Matthias felt like he needed to pay me for the lessons, and when I would assure him that he had improved—he would propose that I paint him. I knew that he was saying it because it was in the clause that he had signed.

Even still, I still couldn’t.

“We don’t have to do that just yet,” I said, circling his attention back to what he was doing. Knowing that I have to do everything not to remind him of that made me panic. I am unsure why I would think this would work when I am dealing with a grown man. My lips could make out a number of excuses for him to feel like he was doing me the favor simply by letting me learn alongside him—but I would not lie. I am simply worried and anxious to let him see. “Calm down and focus on improving yourself.”

Matthias looked troubled, eyes following mine. “But I don’t think I am giving my end of the bargain.”

This is exactly the same thing that he would sputter whenever he wanted to model. I don’t know if he feels guilty, or if he was curious to how he would look under my brush. Either way, I do not have the confidence or at least sanity to let him see just that. Despite agreeing with the whole situation that we had for ourselves—I am still slowly trying to make sense of what I was doing wrong.

Aside from using my sister’s boyfriend as a material type of wrong, that is.

Because for some f****d up reason, that isn’t enough for me.

“I mentioned that I am having a hard time painting lately,” I mentioned, not believing that I would use this card in this situation. Matthias nodded, informing me that I could continue explaining why he still hasn’t modeled for me after the many lessons that I had done for him. “It is tempting to have a model, but I needed to figure out things more on my end. I could have any material standing before me, but if I couldn’t lift my brush or see inspiration to paint—I would never do anything.”

Maybe it was a bit rude to inform him that he doesn't invoke any inspiration from me, but it is the best that I could have. Whether I am shattered whilst creating a mistake I never knew the result, or try to lay it low by telling him a spread of lies that is slightly plausible for him.

“That made sense,” he replied, and I could see that he took no offense to my words.

When he informed me that he could be my model, whilst having second thoughts if he had any rights—I knew that I was holding something I shouldn’t. Matthias is the type of person who feels like he owes someone a favor just because they offered him one.

Anyone would have jumped on the gun, and used him.

I could tell that many could have done the same—or not. Remembering who his friends are, I doubt any of them could do anything bad to Matthias when Lucas would be there to cast them out of the world if he wanted to.

“If you are in a position to paint, please inform me.”

I nodded. “Of course, I would. You are my model.”