The class is busy preparing for their presentation since each of us arrived in the room. Some are panicking, some lax. Terrence and I probably belong to the latter.

Our topic doesn't require that many questions, for sure. It's more on explaining so I think we're good to go. The whole period is dedicated to reporting so by the time our turn is done, I take one problem loaded off my mind.

Considering, it is the last class and there are plenty of us, it is inevitable that time is extended to accommodate us all. It is almost six in the evening when the professor dismissed us.

"Want to have dinner together?"

I am ready to leave when my hands pause mid-air from Terrence's invite.

"Huh?"

"Let's have dinner," he repeats.

The weight of the past has been lifted due to our previous conversations, but I just can't forget in an instant.

I've been nursing that pain for years, only to realize it's my fault for misinterpreting. Frankly, it's harder to deal with our current relationship.

It's so easy to dislike him but when it is combined with some feelings that have been bottled and locked deep — one that should have been erased but slowly appears after his confession — how am I going to act around him?

I still need more time to adjust and his presence consistently in close proximity won't help.

"Will you?" he prompts, eyeing me, a little hopeful bassing on the crinkle of his eyebrows.

"Remybear!" Maize's quickly interrupts our staring contest. 

An excuse quickly comes to mind. 

"I'm sorry. I have something with Maize."

She whips her head on me. "You do? But I'm going back to my mom's today? She just called me and I'm here to tell you."

There goes my lie. I clearly see the ends of Terrence's lips slanting.

"Don't laugh," I retort.

He quickly straightens his face while Maize looks back and forth between us.

"I'll go first, okay?" she says but gives me a call sign. "Bye!"

I haven't contacted her over the weekend and I'm still not ready to spill everything. Thankfully, she's cramming the whole morning, having no time for gossip.

"I'll book the restaurant at seven, what do you think?" Terrence says while I watch Maize disappear through the door along with our classmates.

"I haven't even said yes."

"They have a good brownie there," he tempts, making me almost succumb.

"I can buy my own," I reply.

His smile falters a little, his face becoming less assured. "Do you really hate me that much? Can't you cut me some slack, Remy? Just give me a chance to prove to you that you are important to me. I'm already sorry I made you misunderstand and hurt you."

My frown only worsens. Why does he keep condemning himself when it's obvious it has been my fault?

"Stop it." I strap my bag before speaking without looking back. "Come on. You better make sure their food is worth it."

I hear the rustle behind me. My bag suddenly becomes lightweight as he gets it from me.

"Let me," he says.

I pull it back. "I can carry it."

"Just give me this. Don't I always carry your bag before?"

My lips purse, thinking this is one of his actions that made me think he likes me too... 'But maybe he really did?'

"When did you start liking me?"

I must be vain of me asking that. Regardless, it's too late to take it back.

"I told you, I can't remember. I just woke up one day and realize I want to be by your side always."

"I see." Huffing, I walk faster to hide the pink coloring my cheeks. I don't even notice someone in front until my forehead collides with their body.

"Ow!"

"Remy."

That voice quickly makes me stiffen. I back away in a second. It's been like forever since we are this close. I usually steal a glance from him but after the scene at the beach, I can't even spare him a peek.

I still want to be his friend yet I still have to come to terms that I'm rejected. But in this distance, the circles on his eyes have gotten darker. There's even a five o'clock shadow on his face.

"Hi. Why are you here?" I say, wishing my expression doesn't betray me.

"Can we talk?"

"Uh, I have somewhere to go with Terrence." I swivel to see he just exits the door. Without thinking, I grab his arm.

It's weird how the tables have turned. I used to be running away from this guy by my side but now I'm avoiding the person who made me feel butterflies at the start of my college days.

"...I understand, tomorrow then?"

"Okay," I say but I doubt I will. "We're leaving. See you tomorrow."

We walk past Uriel, daring not to look back. I don't know what's the culpable feeling inside me. For ignoring Uriel or for using Terrence?

The silence stretches between us as we stroll the corridors before Terrence breaks it.

"Do you still like him?" It's the exact question from last time but this time, I did not answer.

Instead, I say, "Where are going?"

"It's on the Third Avenue. Do you want to take the car or walk?"

"Car. I don't feel like walking five blocks from here."

"Okay. Let's go to the parking."

My head whips in his direction. "Wait, you have a car?"

"Yeah."

"I wish I have too. Dad says I can't drive until I graduate," I complain.

"Knowing how you can be clumsy from time to time, I'll agree with Uncle."

"I'm not."

"You are. You always trip out of nothing. Every time we sneak out, you manage to earn a bruise."

"Uh, please. Stop bringing back such old memories. I was a kid, what do you expect? And when did you become so honest with your words?" I chide.

"I learned the hard way."

That quickly breaks the mood. Years of misunderstanding have shackled both of us, making us tiptoe each other. Thinking about it, he has done his best to fix the rift but if my end refuses to move, will we be able to patch everything? 'Do I really want to take a risk?'

"Terrence..."

"What?"

Both of us have already remained on our feet. I meet his eyes, trying to gather my courage.

"Do you think if that didn't happen, will anything change between us?"

He takes his time to reply. Whirling emotions reflects in his gaze as if recollecting the past. "Maybe but we're still too young back then. I don't think we are ready to face any challenge and I will do my best to persuade you not to take the same school as me."

"Why?" My voice barely comes out. "Am I really that unqualified?"

"Definitely not..."

"I can hear the but. Spill it," I demand, wanting to get over it and preparing myself for the hurt.

"I'm aware that even if I try to convince you out of it, you are very decisive when it comes to your choices. I know you can do it but at that time, all I think about is to protect you from being hard to your own yourself. The school's environment will never be good for you, trust me. I know you'll force yourself too much when others don't even expect anything from you."

"What—"

"Wait, that come out wrong. What I mean is, whatever you do, I will support you. You don't have to achieve anything as long as you are happy with what you do. But if you want to seek something greater, I'll still support you. Just don't... Don't burden yourself too much."

With that, I turn away, treading in the direction of the parking lot while trying to prevent the tilting of my lips. 

🎨 🎨 🎨

"Have you seen the latest exhibit in the Delacroix Hall? The current showcase did not gather as much as people as they expected," Terrence says while we wait for our food.

The inhibition lingering between us is still hard to dispel but the topic makes me reply right away.

"Yeah. It's nothing spectacular. It's basically an artist who got there using connections as many have guessed."

Even though most students were busy with exams last week. It was huge news that the current artist who held his showcase had gathered the worst reviews in the history of the university.

My greatest pet peeve has always been those people who only know to use their family with no talent to back it up. Sure, it is lucky if they have both. Having connections is surely an advantage, especially in the world of art, but solely relying on that is an insult to those working their way up.

I can never understand their confidence. Is it so easy to ride on someone's coattails without any burden?

"Right..." He clears his throat before speaking, "His father is one of the major sponsors of the university. He's also a graduate of this school."

"I can see that. It's so obvious when Vincent's classmates can paint better than that guy."

"How is Vincent, by the way? He has earned a lot of accolades for his age."

"I know, right? He's a genius!" I gush.

"Seems like you're more accommodating to geniuses now with your brother. You used to sneer at them, especially when we first met."

I laugh, recalling the smug child who entered my house, all high and mighty. "Of course. You act like you own the world when you're actually afraid Dad will not accept you as an apprentice."

"Yeah but it's now Uncle who's chasing after me," he says, smirking.

"Not really. He already got a new apprentice."

"Uriel? I heard he's a charity case—"

My face quickly sinks, brows wrinkling, and ready to defend.

"No, wait. Don't get me wrong. He's an orphan with a sick adopted father and Uncle Mike held a fundraising for him. I heard he's too stubborn to accept help. It is admirable since he's more willing to do things by himself."

That quickly barred the words about to go out of my mouth. Uriel may have rejected me but I consider him a friend. I do see where he is coming from, though. But, I have no idea Dad is doing that.

"How did you know?"

"There's a painters association your dad and I belong to. Besides, I have to know my rival..."

The way he trails his word after emphasizing 'rival'. I don't know if he meant in art or if I'm too narcissistic to think it's about me.

As our conversation drifted more, I haven't realized we'd been talking for an hour.

Back in the day, we can always chat about never-ending topics. There's just something about his presence that can make me rival Maize as a chatterbox.

The only change is the fact that Terrence now knows how to open a conversation when it was only me does the talking before.

There's a twinge in my heart for the aching familiarity with a wave of novelty. Three years may be short but without any contact, there are certainly expected changes.

I have viewed him as the worst person to walk on earth for all those years but he's still the same guy with a poor choice of words. It was cute back when I like him but as I have said, why shall I adjust for him?

However, listening to him. He's still the same – speaking without thinking – but now, he can be self-aware and corrects himself.

Gradually, another layer of protection I have covered myself unveils.

🎨 🎨 🎨

By the time we're done eating, I can't believe I agreed to go with him to the Atelier. It's already past eight but here I am following his back as we enter his studio.

We've passed several students below earlier since the school facilities accommodate those who want to pull all-nighters. Though I don't have any plan for one, I just find myself here after he mentioned he hasn't started his project for Painting I.

Right that instant, I found a comrade.

Imagine the Terrence Kristoffer Wright, slacking off? I can never. For me, he's always a fountain of creativity that it's hard to believe he's procrastinating. Even Maize has already started with her weeks ago.

"Do you want me to set up your easel?" he says as he puts down his bag.

"It's alright."

Grabbing my sketchpad, I begin brainstorming. There is no sound but the scratching of pencils inside the room. I manage to make some outlines, though I don't think this will be giving me a passing grade.

'How can the topic 'love' be so difficult?'

Taking a glance at Terrence, I walk up to him.

Upon closer look, unlike me who has wasted a lot of paper in just a small span of time, his paper is still as white as it is in the beginning.

"Uh, do you have any extra paper?" I say.

"I have some watercolor papers at the bottom of the shelves. You can use as many as you want."

"Got it, thanks."

As I am bending to get the sheets, my eyes divert to the canvass in the corner. Maybe noticing the pause in his surroundings, Terrence jumps from his seat, runs to my side, and quickly flips the artwork out of my sight.

However, it's already too late. I have witnessed how that black and white painting, which was displayed in Monet Multicural Center before, has been slashed and damaged, almost torn to pieces if not for the thick material of the canvass.

He pivots away, too nonchalantly, while leaving me frowning.

"What happened, Terrence?"

It's not just him to be lashing out his anger in painting. He's the type to value even his sketches. Not to mention, I always assume his brain has already processed everything for him before he touches his brush. It's like there is no room for mistakes when he starts drawing.

"...Nothing."

Like I'll believe it after the pause when he spoke.

"Are you really down from the competition? I know I've already told you this but I don't care if I have to repeat myself. This is not the end, Terrence. You can always do better."

But unlike our last conversation, his expression becomes aloof. Maybe because of the serenity of the surroundings, his next words are something I never expect he will say.

"I don't think so. I have already maintained this illusion for so long." His voice cracks, looking away, before he continues. "They're finally seeing I'm just a fraud and never a prodigy. Every time I win, I know there is someone better than me who just lacks the connection I have. The only reason I'm here is because of my family's backup."

The dead air hovers around us. His concerns echo in me, like hearing myself out loud. But how can it be? Terrence is the confident one, not someone like me who's always washed away by self-doubt.

Even if I have hated him before, I am fully aware of how hardworking he is. He's always been over-achieving and perfectionist but saying that he's incapable and only got where he is because of his family? That's freaking not true.

However, this time, not a single phrase of encouragement escapes my lips. Because if I know how to deal with the weight of self-doubt that comes from being born into a high-profile family, I may have escaped the hell of anxiety a long time ago.

Note: It's nearing the end yet here I am deleting more scenes and rewriting the last four chapters. This is supposed to be 23 chaps only but I feel like I need more characterization for our leads so I added 5 more (ಥ﹏ಥ)