Sat in the centre of my bedroom floor, I take a paintbrush in my hands. Grasping onto the wooden handle as of it was the only thing left in the world, I shutter. The canvas, representing an empty mind, eager to be overcome with creativity and bliss.
The colours that one picks is substantial for the aesthetics of the painting. If two wrong colours silently mix, the outcome is messy, ruining the painting entirely. But with the proper brushes, paints and patience, a beautiful masterpiece will come from it.
"That's life, I guess," I mumble, squirting some white and blue paint down on my wooden palette. On the palette holds an assortment of oil-based paints, a new technique gathered from watching 6 hours of Bob Ross last weekend.
The canvas is being held up by a one-foot easel that my dad made for me last month for my birthday, explaining that it's not 'professional' to paint on the floor but to paint with the painting standing as vertical as possible. You have to be able to stand back and admire the painting, looking at what you should and shouldn't do to improve the looks of the painting.
I laugh at myself again, dipping my brush in the white paint along with the blue, mixing them softly, "I'm only painting so I can aggressively beat the shit out of this brush..." I admit to myself, giggling like a school girl at the sudden thought. As I place my brush against the canvas, I smile, "I'm so relaxed,"
I drag the brush down the canvas, blending effortlessly. The light blue colour appears flawlessly, leaving no harsh lines or indents from the brush. Odd. I pick up another colour, a light pink and decide to mix it with some white. A pretty sunrise, hopefully introducing some friendly little birds along the way.
.x.
"What do you mean I have to quit!?" Her voice filled with aggression as her chest seemingly sank to her ankles, "I fucking love acting, why would I give it up!?" She mocks, "Because my stupid mother told me to,"
She slammed the door to her bedroom, locking herself in as tears escaped her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. The belligerence that overcame her struck her as a surprise, "This is why I hate you," She whimpered.
As the pounding on her door began, she sloppily trailed towards her bed, falling face first onto her bed, crying into her sheets. She gripped the pillows aggressively, "Why me?" She thought, "Why is it always me?"
She lifts her head as the pounding stops and all that was heard was an upset sigh. Her eyes, blurry and itchy, but focused on one thing from across her bedroom. A bright red notebook lying flat next to her backpack which was propped up against her wall.
The dullness of her grey backpack made the notebook pop, something she found to be almost beautiful. Unlike herself, as a matter of fact, she thought she was hideous. She shook her head as the thoughts came quicker than expected. She slowly stood up, crawling onto her bed as she sighed, "This year is going to suck,"
She opened her phone, revealing the bright lockscreen that just so happened to be a picture of her and her best friend, Yerim. She smiled as she unlocked her phone, opening the messages between them,
SooYoung 🍒
I'm quitting Drama.
Yerim 🍏
WHAT!?
THAT'S SO STUPID NO WHY WAIT WHAT
SooYoung 🍒
It's a long story, I'll explain tomorrow
.x.
I smiled as I looked at the finished product. A bright sunset as the background, bringing your focus to the many trees surrounding a log cabin. I've never been so proud.
I stand up slowly, knowing that it takes like a day for oil paints to dry. I carefully move the painting from across the bedroom, clutching the easel tightly as I carry it, understanding that it was quite unstable. As I placed the painting down against the wall, a feeling of completion came over me.
As I stood to go wash up, my door swung open and Jimin appeared with a grin on his face, "Dude, I just managed to get Yoongi to join Drama! The stubborn acorn finally budged,"
"I thought he said he'd never join, I thought he said it would turn him gay," I picked up my paintbrushes from the floor, smirking as I was about to beat the fucking devil out of these little guys, "But yeah, I congratulate your hard work and determination," I cackled, passing Jimin into the hallway, walking into the bathroom to rinse off the brushes in the tub.
Jimin followed, "He said he'd come if I could land him a date with a girl," He leaned against the bathroom wall as I turned on the water. "Who?" I asked curiously.
"Park SooYoung,"
---
A/N: Kek
I literally just watched 6 hours of Bob Ross though, fear me, mortals.
Also, I switched POV's so I hope I didn't have anybody shaking in their boots at the sudden change, if so, I apologize.
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