Arrivederci || Dan Heng [✓ ]

⋆ ✦ ˚｡ Part ten ˚｡⋆

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✦ ENTRY NO. 010
✦ TIME LEFT: 10 DAYS

Ι hᥲ᥎ᥱ ᥲᥒ ιᥒkᥣιᥒg ᥆f ᥲᥒ ιdᥱᥲ ᥆ᥒ ᥕhᥲt t᥆ ρᥲιᥒt ᥒ᥆ᥕ, ᥲᥣth᥆ᥙgh ιt ι᥉ᥒ't rᥱᥲᥣᥣy ꧑ᥙᥴh. Ι ᥕιᥣᥣ dᥱfιᥒιtᥱᥣy ᥉tᥲrt t᥆dᥲy th᥆ᥙgh, ᥉᥆ ι ᥲt ᥣᥱᥲ᥉t hᥲ᥎ᥱ ᥉᥆꧑ᥱthιᥒg. Ιt ᥕιᥣᥣ bᥱ hᥲrd th᥆ᥙgh ᥉ιᥒᥴᥱ ᥕᥱ'rᥱ ᥣᥱᥲ᥎ιᥒg ιᥒ thᥱ ᥲftᥱrᥒ᥆᥆ᥒ f᥆r ᥲ fιᥱᥣd trιρ, b᥆th thᥱ fιr᥉t ᥲᥒd ᥉ᥱᥴ᥆ᥒd yᥱᥲr ᥴᥣᥲ᥉᥉. ᥴhᥱᥱr ꧑ᥱ ᥆ᥒ, ᥕιᥣᥣ y᥆ᥙ?

✩ ◛ .⋆
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𓆩⟡𓆪
╰┈➤ "𝑨𝒂𝒂𝒂𝒏𝒅... it should be—right here!" My eyes indeed landed on a small door just around the corner of a hallway, which lead to an unused art room. It turned out that becoming friends with the up and coming journalist, Tingyun, had its many benefits. She knew the ins and outs of the whole school, which she gladly shared with me after I listened to her whole club presentation.

For being as abandoned as it was, the room was surprisingly cleaner than I expected. Some dust was sprinkled throughout  here and there, but it was well lit and the windows were actually open. The cream translucent curtains were swaying ever softly to the gentle breeze—a very idyllic setting.

I almost just gave up on trying to start my project; hell I could've just settled down and napped the entire day away in that room. However I knew what needed to be done, and as much as I wanted to procrastinate, it was impossible. Time was running out and I would be stupid to continue to postpone any longer.

Thankfully the art room had easels laying around. I took the best looking one from the corner it was shoved in, and placed my canvas on the small ledge.

There were a few silent moments of gazing at it, unsure where to even begin. All the inspiration I had seconds ago vanished. I shoved my face into my hands—letting out a long and exasperated groan.

"What the hell! It was a bad idea to try and paint without even having a picture for reference!" I threw my brush onto the floor, it's handle bounced many times before it rolled under a desk. Then once again, silence.

That was until I heard a sudden grunt, as if someone had just woken up from a nap. It made me jump, and I cocked my head toward the direction of the sound. Much to my terror, a young man sat himself up from a hidden corner in the room—rubbing his head. I could recognize him immediately from his long hair.

"Keep it down would you." His raspy voice sounded a bit strained, but his eyes were locked onto my embarrassed face.

"Ah—! I didn't know someone else was in here, I was told the art room isn't used anymore. I'm really sorry!" I bowed my head at him slightly, but he just stared with a blank expression. "Speaking of which... what are you doing here Vice President?" His response was immediate.