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15TH OF MAY

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15TH OF MAY

THIRTY minutes left before 6:30, before he leaves.

We're standing outside their house, the stroller on his side. There's a glint of sadness in his eyes and pursed lips. He's wearing a white button down polo and black jeans. His Nike shoes make him look even taller. His hair is properly brushed up that you could clearly see his doe-shape face and prominent eyes.

Then, here I am, wearing a plain black shirt and white knee shorts with my slipper, feeling so tiny with his height.

"Don't forget me," the first words that he mutters as he squints.

It's only six in the early morning. The sun setting and the color of clear blue and white in the sky is a fascinating view to paint.

I take a mental picture of a girl and a boy, standing with the background of this beautiful sunrise behind them to paint later.

"I will," I sarcastically answer with a smirk.

He tsk-s and pinches my cheeks. "I'll remind you again and again if you did."

I chuckle that makes him smile.

"Won't you really miss me?" he asks with a soft sigh.

I will. "Why miss a bully?"

"Don't find another one, then."

"Whatever." I stick my tongue out.

"You should be Artist Ji when we meet again." His lips form an evil grin.

"I will be, but Artist de Franco, not Ji."

Speaking about it, I remember my conversation with Tatay last night. After spotting him watching the television when the electricity came back, I told him I will pursue arts no matter what.

The thing is, he doesn't argue further. I don't know if it's just because he didn't seem drunk or something came up to his mind.

"Don't be like us," that's what he said his eyes were not even looking at me. But I can't understand what does he mean. So instead I repeated it, and to my surprise, he said, "Fine. Prove me wrong then."

I unconsciously smile with the thought of it. I will definitely prove to him that I am doing the right thing.

His face is confused as I bring back my attention at him. His eyebrows furrow.

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