1 - Artist

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Alysa pov:

"As is on every other year, tourists are flocking to the most significant site of the Plaza Strike that happened ten years ago on this very day. Candles and flowers are being offered to those who lost their lives to the strike, leaving behind loved ones who are still pained from the unexpected happening and-"

"Ah, there they go again with the Pavilion Strike! Hearing about it annoys me to no end!" muttered Julie. She turned the TV off before throwing the remote onto the couch behind her.

"Temper, Juu," came Miss Arien's voice from the kitchen. The short, lean woman walked to the dining room with a tray in hand, on which was a kettle and three beautiful, porcelain cups. She placed it in front of us, poured chocolate milk into the cups and took a seat opposite to us.

"Miss Arien is right, you know? You're going to break the TV remote one day if you keep throwing it like that every time you get angry at what's airing," I said, reaching for my cup of chocolate milk with a word of gratitude to Miss Arien.

"It won't break! I'm throwing it on the couch which, may I remind you, is a very soft surface!"

"The force with which you throw it is what we're worried about though." I gave Miss Arien a wide smile as she rolled her eyes at Julie.

"Honestly, Juu, can't you be a little more like Alysa? She's such a sweetheart, so gentle and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know my best friend better than you do so don't nag me about how much of a sweetheart she is." She put an arm around my neck, tugging me close to herself with a grin, "She loves me just the way I am, don't you, Lisa?"

"Of course, I do," I answered. I returned Julie's hug, wrapping my free arm around her waist to gently squeeze her. Not too surprisingly, that that was more than enough to earn a dramatic wheeze and glare from her in return.

Miss Arien sighed, "I can never win against you two."

"Anyway, I should head out or I'll be late for class! Shouldn't you be leaving too, Lisa?"

"Yeah, I probably should too," I said with a nod.

Finishing the last bit of my milk, I placed my empty mug on the tray. Post a word of thanks, Julie waited a moment for me to pick up my sling bag from my room. We then left our casita together after a wave to Miss Arien. We parted at the gate – Julie headed to Nour University while I went the opposite way to the art shop where I worked.

Julie and I were average eighteen year olds bubbling with energy. We had had our schooling together since kindergarten and we had been best friends since then. While she was a slightly hotheaded blonde with the most beautiful emerald eyes I had seen in anyone, I was dark-haired with violet eyes, a girl of average height and weight. I wasn't anything out of the ordinary in appearance or intelligence, except for my extraordinary skills in fine arts.

Though I worked as an artist in an art gallery, my job was not like that of what other painters with a degree like mine would be doing. My skills were a contribution from the shadows. Works that many famous artists of different genres and painting styles displayed around the world and took credit for were actually work orders that I had completed on their request. The fact that others artists were taking credit for my skills while my name and very existence were being kept in the dark didn't really bother me. In fact, I was thankful that I remained in the shadows. I did what I loved, earned what I needed to live comfortably but didn't have to deal with the sometimes-crazy publicity that came with it.

If I had not lost my parents in the Plaza Strike – a bloody incident where armed men had gone around on a random killing spree and caused the loss of many lives – I would have perhaps gone to college like Julie. It was a miracle that I survived the incident at all, and I had a large scar going across my entire back to prove it.

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