Colors // Joshler

// 2. Kind Of An Introvert //

The drive was okay. Tyler listened to one of the playlists on his phone as they drove, but softly, so that the sound of the rain could still be heard through the music.

He missed the attic already. Of course, he did; that attic was his God damn attic, everybody knew that. His family rarely ever came up there, unless they were looking for him or needed to talk to him. It was his bedroom, his music room, his painting studio. Tyler was practically bonded to that thing like a child to its mother.

While his actual mother had assured him that the new house would have a lovely bedroom for him, he couldn't fully believe her. No room could replace the attic.

Tyler and his family had lived in a reasonably nice house, just outside of Columbus. Tyler took the bus to school every day and went shopping for supplies in Columbus, so he knew this side of it well enough. But his family was moving to the other side of Columbus, and it was significantly far from the area Tyler knew. In addition to the new house, he would have a new school, and a new neighborhood.

The search for a new art store was more important to Tyler. He'd brought all his supplies with him, of course, but he'd have to refuel at some point, and now his regular art store--a locally owned building run by a middle-aged couple--was just too far away. Or at least, that was what Tyler's mother had told him. It was possible that she's said that just so he'd have to go looking for a new one and explore the neighborhood.

Tyler was kind of an introvert. He only really left the house when he had to--for school and supplies. The rest of his free time was spent painting.

Painting was, essentially, Tyler's purpose in life. He spent every moment he could starting a new painting, or planning a new painting, or finishing a new painting, or even touching up an old one. His attic had always smelled faintly of paint, and there were always buckets and tubes of paint everywhere, as well as tarps, canvases, and brushes.

Tyler was on a bit of a mission, you see. He wanted to create the perfect painting; at least, in his eyes.

As the car drove on, following the moving van, Tyler pondered the perfect painting, for possibly the thousandth time in his life, and hoped he'd find it soon.

// A/N: Sorry if this chapter was boring, I wanted to provide more background information //