Wayo's POV
Spring. A season of blossoming flowers, between winter and summer. The arrival of fragrance and also... hey fever.
No...
Why did they give us this theme? Spring? Should I just draw flowers then? So mundane... what can be associated with spring other than flowers? Ughhh... think my brain, think.
Right now I'm banging my head on my pillow. It has been... three hours since I got home and seven hours since I got selected to join BArt. I know, I know... the competition is due next semester. But I need to prepare now. Soon.
BArt is one of the most prestigious competition for youth under the age of 20. It is one of the most sought after award in the art field. Participants were chosen by a strict committee and each of us have to hand over a number of artwork to them for final evaluation.
What type of art, you might ask? They are several categories. Song writing and music arrangement makes one. Sculpture is another. As for me, I'll be competing in painting. Oil on canvas is my forte.
Or so I think. I don't know. I never compete before. I only paint for fun. I draw what I want, when I want. And... for assignment as well.
Never for a competition. No...
I lay on my stomach, flipping over the document given by Sir Ranit previously. The theme for this year BArt is Spring: May it bloom in you.
What does that supposed to mean? May it bloom in you? Ughhh....
Every participant must embrace the theme given and portray them as best as your interpretation goes.
Can I interpret this using real spring then? I can call my work, Spring: May you bounce with it. Giggles.
I lay on back, staring at the ceiling. I have to make five artworks for this competition. Five different painting. Sir Ranit even told me that I'll be exempted from all art assignment this semester. But I still need to hand over my other assignments though.
Why am I taking art again? I turn toward the portrait, hanging on my right wall. My family portrait. Mom, dad and me.
I miss you, mom. I miss you so much. I know my eyes will start to water every time I think about mom.
She's a lovely lady. She loves me so much. She's the one that teach me how to draw, to paint and to enjoy every moment of it. I still remember sitting on her lap, watching her mixing those colours, smearing the canvas beautifully, creating her masterpiece.
I grow up playing with colours and canvas. Using paint knife as my sword, running around the room, playing pirates with Ming, until mom catch us messing with her tools.
Not once we were reprimanded by her. She would gently remind us not to play in her work room, while putting away the paint knife.
She passed away when I was 12. Since then it has always been me and dad. But dad never let me forget mom. We always travel to all art galleries around the world that carries my mom artworks.
I love how my mom was immortalized in those painting. She is being remembered. From her fans, by her work. From her family, by her love.
I choose to take art during high school as I want keep mom's spirit in me. I just want to see what my mom saw, and learn what she has leant, as I know she used to be taking art major in my school too.
"Yo, what are doing here, son?"
I startled. I don't realize that I'm no longer in my room, but standing inside my mom's old work room.
"I'm sorry, dad. I'm just thinking about mom. Remembering her."
I hug my dad, keeping my tears at bay.
"What wrong, son? Anything happen today?"
"Yeah dad, I was chosen to participate in BArt."
Stepping away from my dad, I looked up at him, flashing my happiness. He hugs me again, proudly.
"Your mom would be so proud, Yo. I know she will."
I nod my head in my dad's embrace, with tears rolling down my cheeks. I miss her so much now. Even when I miss her every day.
I'm not doing this as a long term career as I know I'll be taking over my dad company later on. But as for now, I want to walk in my mom's footsteps. I will make you proud mom.
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"Ming~ help me~"
The day is filled with one boy's pleas, asking his best friend to help him. From the beginning of class, between breaks of changing teachers till now, recess.
The rest of the students seems to ignore the antics of these boys, as they have frequently experience them. These two are the famous beagle boys. Cute, trouble maker with excellent grade to boot. Yup... these two are acting as normal as they can be.
"Ai' Yo, I know nothing about flowers okey? If you want me to fix your laptop or even building you a tree house, I can do it. But flowers... No. A big NO."
"And no... not even your pout and tears can help you today. I can't help you. I'm allergic to flowers, dammit."
Wayo pout sadly and rush away toward the que at the pink milk stall. He starts to think of ways to persuade Ming to help him. Creases start to develop on his forehead.
"Nong, it's your turn."
Wayo jolted up and rush to the counter, buying his daily dose of pink milk. Thanks god, he got to buy it. Only three bottles left. The auntie passed him the bottle number '98' after receiving his money.
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Unknown POV
He looks so cute frowning like that. What is he thinking now? Does he have a problem again? Yesterday he is absent for almost half of the recess period. I was waiting near the drinking stall waiting for him. But he didn't come, until the last bottle...
I have never see him without his daily dose of pink milk. He need it twice daily, I heard him once said. Without thinking, I cut the que and bought that last bottle. I need to use my charm though, to ensure the last bottle land in my hand.
And there he is, looking lifeless, walking toward that tall guy. I watch him slumps down, banging his head. I almost rush to check whether he is injured or not. Then I saw him in tears. I almost run towards his table, wishing to myself to rip away that arms that comforts him.
It felt like my heart is breaking when I saw him cried, but in an instant it shattered when I saw him smile as I know that smile is not because of me. But because of others.
I almost throw away that bottle of pink milk when I heard him scream. I looked up and I saw how that tall boy kneeling in front of my baby, asking for forgiveness as he failed to buy the pink milk. I watch as I saw my cute dumpling huffing and puffing, in rage with the tall boy.
I smile as I rush out of the canteen, ignoring my friends that kept calling me, asking where I'm going. I slipped in his class, locating his table as I have memorized it countless time, as I walk by his class every day, taking a glance at my baby. I put his pink milk there. With a note, wishing for his smile.
And my wish is granted. He kept smiling throughout the day, playing with the pink milk bottle cap.
But that was yesterday. He didn't even realise I'm standing behind him at the stall. He is thinking so hard that frowns starts to line up on his forehead. He didn't even notice that there is this one guy that inwardly drooling, staring at his face and later at his back when he walks away.
"Nong, are you buying this milk or not? There are people queuing behind you that want to."
I wai, saying sorry to the auntie. Like I said, I'm drooling, not noticing anything else apart from him. I bought the pink milk and I looked at him again. There... the famous pout of his is there and that tall guys seem to ignore him. He looks down toward his pink milk, drinking away, pouting.
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Wayo's POV
"You can wear a mask, Ming. Please na... na.. I don't have anybody else to go with me."
It's like a dejavu. But the role has change. Today I'm walking behind Ming, begging him. Hell, I have been begging him the whole day.
I found out yesterday day that there is a rare rose exhibition at Siam Paragon Exhibition Hall. And this weekend will be the last weekend for it. My dad told me last night after knowing that the theme for BArt is Spring. He told me that perhaps this exhibition might help.
I know Ming have pollen allergies, but I really have no other choice. My dad will be flying to Europe this Friday due to work and I have classes till 4 p.m. on weekdays. The exhibition closes at 5 p.m. I need to go this weekend.
"I need some inspiration for BArt, Ming. Help me na~ ouf"
I bump my nose on his back when he suddenly stops. Unlike him, I don't need to walk ten steps behind while begging him.
"Ai' Asshole, why did you st..."
"Yo, what is that?" He cuts me.
Still rubbing my sore nose, I step right next to him, trying to figure out what he means.
I blink, slowly. There it is again, a bottle of pink milk. With a note...
Nong Yo,
Don't frown to much na. Smile.
P