always you | fillie

2.

chapter 2: the painting

a loud thump jolted me awake. only i wasn't in my bed. mr. fawks, my art teacher looked down at me with a disapproving look. he said nothing as he walked away from my table to return to teaching the class. a class i don't understand. i love art and all, but what exactly are we learning here? it's supposed to be creative, spontaneous; art isn't something you teach. it's something you just do. an expression of human imagination. not a lesson.

"everyone listen up," he began using his announcement voice. "today is free day."

thank god.

"you can draw or paint what you choose, just don't over use any supplies as we are running low, and i'm not sure when more are coming in," he warns.

it really is a shame how much funds are used for sports and not arts and music. i thought tickets and stuff for games are supposed to go towards the school? yet as i look at my surroundings i see old wooden tables with dried out paint, and a limited amount of supplies scattered effortlessly around. schools don't care about us. just two more years. two years and i'm out of this bottomless pit of hell.

"mr. wolfhard?" fawks spoke regaining my attention. "get drawing."

fifteen minutes had rolled by and nothing. i stared directly at my blank canvas, hoping that maybe it would paint itself. it didn't. i sighed, slouching down in my squeaky old chair. what could i possibly paint about? my dog?

no, too plain. this might be harder than i thought. think finn. my mind began swarming with pointless ideas until it landed on one, like that spinny wheel on those game shows. i picked up my paintbrush and began looking through the sorts of colors that lay in front of me. i began picking at colors, swiping them across my canvas, being messy here delicate there. my arm was fueled with inspiration that i hadn't felt in a long time.

"finn," a familiar voice spoke behind me. i continued to paint, not taking my eye off of the work in front of me.

"hmm?" i barely replied.

"this is...something," mr. fawks figure appeared next to my right side.

"is that good?" i asked after a couple moments, adding the last few details.

"oh, yes, it's very creative. what's your inspiration for this?" he asked pointing to it. i placed my brush back into its bucket, following his gaze back towards the painting.

i shrugged. "i don't know," i said honestly.

it was just a blob. a black blob. well, more like a silhouette, of the girl i saw last night. there were many bright colors leaping from the figure; yellow, purple, red. i'm not completely sure what it meant. she looked so dark, yet in the moment something came off to me as radiant. i don't know why that's what i thought of, but when creativity strikes, i guess you have to act on it.

"well you did a good job regardless. nice to see you have your inspiration back," he complimented.

"thank you," i smiled slightly, stretching my arms from the amount of work i had just poured into the painting. i stood from my seat, stepping back to admire my work. it wasn't the best, but it wasn't bad at all. i hadn't had an inspiration for weeks now. and for once in a long time, i was proud of myself.

-

"can i ask you something?"

"yeah," i said after a moment, too deep in my thought to notice the boy talking to me.

"are you...are you gay or?" the brunette asked. i looked into his hazel eyes, filled with honesty and curiosity.

"no, w-what the hell is that what you think?" i questioned.