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"Wow, this is amazing. You know, I have seen a lot of your other pieces, and this is a first for me. Your style has changed; why is that?" The judge asked.
"Well, you see, I have made some new life changes, and I feel that I can better understand myself because of it," I answered. All three of the judges smiled and nodded, pleased with my answer. "I hope that you will continue to make beautiful pieces like this. You could be the next famous painter in history, Mr. Vargas," they spoke.

Later that day, I received the news that I had won the prize of a scholarship and entrance into one of the most prestigious schools in the world. Royal College of Art in London England. It is overseas, and I would be living in Europe. It was great news, and my grandfather was delighted. I even had many relatives call and tell me congratulations. I wasn't even at school to see my new friends.

I stared at the trophy I had earned and placed it on my shelf with all the other medals and trophies I had accumulated over the years. Finally, I decided to turn on my phone and tell everyone the news.

Me: hey... so I won :)

It was a simple text, but I didn't expect anyone to answer immediately. My phone started to buzz uncontrollably, and I jumped at how many texts I was getting.

Alfred: O!!!
Alfred: M!!!!!
Alfred: G!!!!
Alfred: congratulations!!! I knew you could do it!
Arthur: great job!
Francis: amazing !! You are going places!
Francis: congratulations!!
Kiku: that is really cool
Alfred: hell yeah, it is great!!!
Matthew: amazing <3

I smiled at all of their texts and waited for one person to answer finally.

Ludwig: congratulations, I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to me than anything else. He was proud of me!! I did a good job, and he is proud. Why does this make me so happy? Why him, of all people? I responded to their texts with a thank you and could not help but throw myself on the bed and start screaming inside my pillow.

My bedroom door suddenly opened, and I quickly stood up. "Hey, what do you feel like eating tonight? I'll cook in celebration," my grandfather smiled. "I am in the mood for some pasta, just plain for tonight." I smiled. He nodded and looked around my room for a second. "Also, can I have friends over this weekend?" I asked. "Friends?" He asked, confused.

"I made some friends at school and would really like to have them over."
"Oh, I see... are they girls?"
"What? No! They are guys."
"Ahhh, okay.... I see"
"What?"
"Nothing, you can bring them over," he smiled teasingly. He gave me a thumbs up and left the room without saying anything else. Great!!! I'll have friends over! This will be super fun. I wonder what we will do? Or talk about it?

I'll have to ensure the whole house is clean and ready for their visit. I looked around at my room, and it is pretty neat already.

My phone started to buzz again, and I could see that it was a private message from Ludwig. I jumped from the shock, nearly dropping my phone on the ground. He had never messaged me privately before; it was always in the group chat. I responded to his message and waited for him to ask me something.

Ludwig: I just want you to know that it is okay to be conceited sometimes..

Me: what do you mean?

Ludwig: I mean, it is alright for you to be proud of yourself.

His message made my eyes widen. Be proud of myself? Was I... right? His comment made me think about how much I wanted my grandfather to be proud of me, but I never thought about how I felt about all of this.

Me: thank you, you are the most considerate person I have ever met. I hope we can be close friends in the future.

To be proud of myself? What did that mean exactly? How would that feel? Am I feeling it right now? I looked over to my trophies and breathed out. I love painting and how it makes people feel, and I acknowledge that it helped me gain friends. So what was missing in me that was so obvious? Am I not motivated enough? Do I not take things seriously enough?

I needed to know, but I'm sure Ludwig wouldn't tell me what he meant exactly. I used art as an escape from everything around me. Whenever I painted, it was like my soul left my body and found a new form of expression. I was in love with art, so why did it seem like something was missing? Maybe my motives for loving art aren't clear enough.

I started to hit my face on the pillow as I tried to figure out my feelings. I want to be an art teacher.... but what would grandfather think of that? Would he even like the idea of that? Would he think my talents were being wasted that way? I want to ask, but I am afraid of the type of answer I would get.

I stopped hitting my face and started to lie quietly on my bed. I loved cute things; I loved being excited over the little things. No, I still love those things. I loved all things that would make me look childish or less of a "man," and I wanted to keep doing it anyway. Would that be appropriate, though? I wish I had my brother here so I could ask him that. Maybe he would understand how I feel more than how I know how to handle these emotions. Ludwig makes me feel all types of emotions that I don't understand, and maybe that's my problem. I can not seem to understand and express my true self.


















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