**

When I got back to my apartment, I threw my bag on the couch and walked back to my art studio. I felt frustration inundate me and found no other way to cope with it than with art. Blue would be coming home soon and I knew I would be lectured on how much of a selfish idiot I'd been and how I needed to get back with Aiden because my mom had no right to barge into my life and judge every aspect of it.

But I also knew that lecture would be absolutely pointless and a complete waste of time because I was very aware of all that.

So I decided to take out all my paint, the biggest canvas I had, and began splattering different, bright colors all over it. I didn't care if it was the ugliest or the most impressive piece of art I'd ever made; I needed to chanel out all my anger on that white canvas.

I let the paintbrush stroke it angrily, abrupt and harsh streaks of different colors now inhabiting what was perfect and white just a few seconds ago. To go along with my wreckless behavior, I allowed a frustrated yell escape my lips.

"Why,"

Red streak.

"Is life,"

Blue streak.

"So,"

Yellow streak.

"Complicated!"

I dropped the paintbrush on the floor and stared at the piece of what you could call art. I nodded in approval, very satisfied with my work. It looked like an abstract painting. Aiden would've been proud.

And as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I felt like crying all over again. So, instead of letting my tears win me over, I decided to walk towards the canvas and pick it up.

My finger slid across the top of it softly, letting my sense of touch take in all that the texture of the canvas material had to offer. Then I ran my hand across the whole thing, not caring about the fact the paint was still fresh. I recklessly began destroying it all, my hands moving up and down all over it, and then I punched a hole through it.

I frowned at it.

What a shame, I thought.

Oh, well.

I lifted it up and then threw it across the room, part of me knowing that sooner or later I would regret it, seeing that my impulsive reaction had just knocked over my perfect, color coded colored pencils shelve. It had taken me two hours to do that.

My frown deepened as I stood there alone, my eyes fixed on a broken canvas and a destroyed shelf. It was incredibly disturbing to stand there feeling so empty, hollow, and dull in the presence of so many bright, happy colors. I turned around and walked out of the studio.

I immediately went to the kitchen and washed my hands, the all too familiar smell of paint lingering in the air, prominent and making it harder to take my mind off Aiden.

Every time I smelt it, the memories of Aiden and I covered in colors at the paint shop came back. I wondered if it would ever go away or if it would be one of those memories that is permanently imprinted on your brain and linked to a certain object—in this case being the paint.

I sighed, realizing I was getting too carried away with my train of thoughts and I should probably hop off of it.

Once I washed off all the paint, I grabbed a small, yellow towel lying on the counter and dried my hands with it.

Ding.

I walked over to the couch and sat on it, taking my phone out of my bag.

[1 Message From: Charlotte]

Hey June! This is Charlotte (:

I stared at the screen for a second, not sure whether to reply or not. After pondering on it for a while, I finally decided on replying.

To: Charlotte

Hey (: what's up?

From: Charlotte

Nothing much. Wondering if you wanted to hang out!

I bit my lip. Did I really need to be with Charlotte? Maybe it would be good to take my mind off things. Plus, it would also help me put that lecture that would surely come my way soon on hold.

To: Charlotte

Sure. You can come over.

And then I sent her my address.

She was just about ten minutes away, so I could only hope she would make it to my place before Blue did.

A while later, a knock on the door came. I walked towards it and looked through the door hole to find a blonde on the other side of it. Lucky me, it was Charlotte. I let out a sigh of relief and opened it, allowing her into my home.

"This is a cute apartment." She smiled, her eyes scanning the room.

"Thanks," I told her, shutting the door behind her.

"So, what should we do?"

I shrugged.

"Would you like to paint some?"

It was then when it dawned on me that it would probably be awkward to explain to her why there was a freshly painted, ripped canvas, and colored pencils scattered all over the floor of my art studio. What would I say?

I didn't want her to know Aiden and I were over. Also, I didn't exactly find pleasure in telling her all about my anger fit.

"Well, I just ran out of paint. So maybe we could just...talk?" I tried, hoping I didn't sound too lame.

She nodded, an unexpected grin quickly making its way onto her face.

"That sounds great! Girl talk time!"

I let out an awkward laugh. I didn't like the sound of that too much.

She quickly plopped down on the couch and and patted on the spot next to her, like if I needed to someone to offer me to sit on my own couch. Needless to say, I did as I was told.

"So, do you wanna go first?"

"Uh, sure." I didn't actually want to go first, but I knew this would be a good way to stall on the question I knew was going to come up at some point.

"Do you have any experience with art related organizations besides the course?" I mentally face palmed. I sounded like I was interviewing her. So much for trying to open the friendship door...

"Well, unless you count school art contests, no. I haven't done anything like it."

"Same. If I don't win then I'll probably enter other contests just to get my stuff out there."

Considering I probably bombed that interview with Mr. Blackwood.

"Nice. I doubt you'll need to, though. I mean, even if Aiden wins, all the judges will see your work too. You're really good. I'm almost sure someone will offer you something." I wanted to think her words were pure and kind, and although she was smiling the entire time she said this, something in her tone was so subtly bitter. It was so subtle it was almost impossible to tell.

"Thank you. I'm sure you will too. After all, you're still in the top three," I reminded her.

"I guess so," she said indifferently.

"Anyways, all this competition talk is depressing, so tell me what we've all been dying to know! What's up with Aiden and you?" She asked, her mood immediately becoming lively again.

Stall.

"What do you mean by 'we'?" I laughed nervously.

"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't act like you don't know! Everyone—well, at least every girl—is either obsessed with Aiden, Blake, or with you guys' relationship. So, spill the details!"

I scowled a bit.

Wow, how great is it to know everyone is obsessed with your boyfr—ex-boyfriend.

Stall.

"Why would everyone be obsessed with our relationship? That's stupid."

"I don't know," she said awkwardly. "You're both just very interesting. Not anybody confesses their love to Falkov, or argue in class constantly and then end up dating," she reasoned.

"I guess that makes sense. But I promise we're not all that exciting."

Okay, that was a lie. I couldn't even deny to myself the fact that Aiden and I's journey had been nothing but spontaneous. Even if I didn't admit it, things could be exciting.

"I don't want to be intrusive, but how are things with him anyways? You seemed a bit down when I got here."

And there it was! That dreaded question. Thank you very much, Charlotte.

"We're still figuring things out, that's all. Many things are going on and everything is just a bit crazy."

Not a complete lie.

"But you are still together, right?" She raised an eyebrow.

I forced a closed smile on my face.

"Uh, we—"

"June!" Blue barged into the apartment.

Okay, so maybe I was a little happy to see her, even if a lecture was coming my way.

"Blue!" I grinned. "You came just in time! Charlotte just got here."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"Charlotte?"

"You know, the Charlotte."

Suddenly, it dawned on her. Of course I'd mentioned her to Blue before.

"Oh! Nice to finally meet you. I'm Blue. I've heard a lot about you." Blue plastered a fake, sweet smile on her face.

"Ah, I hope all good things!" Charlotte laughed.

"So, what are you doing here today?" Blue changed the subject, clearly to avoid replying to Charlotte's last comment.

"Boy talk!"

My best friend turned to look at me, giving me a look. For about half a second, her eyes looked at me with disappointment, but she soon looked back at Charlotte, her eyes bright again.

I wondered why we ever picked art and fashion design as our careers. Acting would have taken us far.

"How about we bake some cookies instead?" Blue suggested.

"Sounds great!" I exclaimed cheerfully before Charlotte could say anything.

So we walked in the kitchen and began making cookies.

--

Aiden's P.O.V.

*Earlier that day*

As I watched that yellow cab drive further and further away, I couldn't even really figure out how I was supposed to feel in that moment. None of it made sense.

I walked back to the restaurant, pushing past all the people on the streets, and when I got there, everyone at my table stared at me with confused and worried looks.

I tried to ignore them and angrily grabbed the car keys lying on top of the table. However, humans never know how to keep their mouths shut.

"Dude, what's going on?" Jay asked before I could manage to walk out of there.

"Nothing."

"Yeah, because you just barge out of the restaurant and then come back just to aggressively grab your keys and plan to barge out again," he replied very smartly. I shot him a death glare.

"I don't need you, out of all people, questioning me on my relationship problems, alright?" I spat, harshly pushing my chair back in its spot.

I started walking back out of the place, and, when I finally reached my car and stepped inside it, I heard desperate, light knocks on the passenger's seat window. Naturally, I turned my head to find out what was outside.

I rolled my eyes the second I saw the blue-eyed girl.

"Let me in!"

Of course, I wasn't going to be a jerk, so I—very unwillingly—unlocked the door, my morals overruling my emotions.

She took a seat beside me.

"What just happened?"

"I'm not even sure," I told her, my tone suddenly sounding more sad than angry. Her eyes shone with pity and confusion.

"I'm going to find out either way, so you might as well tell me now."

I let out a defeated sigh.

"I think she just broke up with me," I said quietly.

"You're kidding right?" She laughed incredulously, disbelief evident on her features.

"I wish I was." I mimicked her laugh, shaking my head.

"It's funny, you know? Just when I thought I had her, she escapes again. I can't ever figure her out," I admitted, unsure about whether talking to her best friend about it was weird or not. If it was, it was too late now.

"I know she can be quite confusing, but I promise she means no harm. She's been through a lot."

"She didn't even tell me why. She just hopped inside a cab and left. I don't know what I did wrong." I ran my fingers through my hair, letting out an exasperated sigh as I stared at my car's ceiling.

"Maybe she didn't really break up with you."

I smiled, finding it slightly funny how she was trying to comfort me with that kind of comment.

"I think I know when someone's breaking up with me," I told her, letting out a deep, bittersweet chuckle.

"I'm going to talk to her and knock some sense into that head of hers." She stared at me with a look of determination. "And you will be back together in no time. I'm sure there's a good reason behind this."

She opened her door and shot me a wide smile.

"Thanks, Blue." I smiled a weak smile in return.

"Anytime, Blackwood." She shut the door and ran off somewhere.

I shook my head lightly. It was kind of funny how she thought that I would let her solve my problems. Of course, it was nice, but there was no way I was just going to sit back and do all the work for me. I was smart enough to know when something was worth fighting for.

But, nevertheless, that girl sure knew how to lift people's spirits. It was then I could see why June and her were so close. Their personalities balanced each other out.

My hand reached into the keyhole and I began driving away to the only place where I knew I could be left alone. It was pointless going back and talking to June. She was firm in her decisions and I couldn't convince her to change her mind in that moment. She needed time. She simply needed time to adjust to the whole thing.

As I drove, more and more thoughts flooded my mind. Things started lining up and making more sense. It became incredibly clear, in fact. Something had happened that made her do it. She was just scared to tell me what that was.

Anger came over me again, and I sped up a bit to arrive to my final destination quicker. The radio seemed to be my only friend, so I turned it on to calm me down until I got to the lagoon. I let the music distract me from my thoughts, singing along loudly.

After about twenty more minutes, I finally spotted the small road that led to the forest entrance. As usual, I parked my car by the small entrance and exited it, immediately making my way towards the lagoon, journal in hand, and the sound of the waterfall leading my way.

I took a seat on the soft sand and grabbed some of it, letting my fingers play with the light grains' texture. After a few seconds, I let it slide through my fingers and fall back on the ground.

My gaze fixed on the waterfall, and I smiled a bit as I thought about the day when June first came. Everything that had happened since I met her had been so crazy. She was so feisty and uptight, but something about her was just so intriguing. One second, she had wanted to slap the living lights out of me, and the next, she had accepted to come to the fair with me. It was absolutely mind boggling, to say the least.

And in all honesty, it made it all even better. It made me realize not every pretty girl out there easily fell for somebody. She was smarter than that. But her being pretty was also so much more intriguing. I mean, it wasn't like she had this perfect model look, or flawless features, but she was just so simply pretty. I thought so every time I'd see her at that coffee shop.

Many times, I had tried to make myself go up to her and say something—anything. Maybe make a comment on how it was funny we both went to the shop practically every day, or ask her why she went so often. I would constantly try to get myself to man up and do it, but I couldn't. The gallery girl would usually come, and I didn't want to look like a player or something. I didn't want to give her a bad impression of me. Of course, that obviously didn't work out for me, given that she had had that impression of me anyways.

So instead, I'd just pretend I never noticed her and her big, cute hazel eyes, or that bright colored notebook with millions of cool doodles on it that she'd always have with her.

For a while, I thought she had a thing with Jack. She was there so often and she would always have conversations with him. The two of them seemed to be close, and I was almost sure she got discounts on her coffee from him. But as time went by, it became obvious that she was single.

Now, when I finally had her, she'd escaped right out of my arms again—like a cat. It's always so hard getting a cat to love you in a genuine way, and, one day, when it finally lets you hold it and hug it, it jumps out of your arms again. But it leaves you trying everything in your will to win it over. So when you finally conquer it, it's so much more satisfying. That's exactly how she made me feel. I wasn't going to let her run away so easily.

I couldn't quite understand why she had randomly broken up with me, but I was going to—

"BOO!"

I immediately turned around and punched whoever had dared giving me a, basically, mini heart attack. He let out a groan and fell back, his butt hitting the ground first.

"You idiot!" I stared down at him as he rubbed his, now, slightly pink—soon to be purple—cheekbone. I offered him a hand to help him up. He rejected it.

"You seriously need to chill." He shot me look and then stood up, dusting off his behind.

"You can't deny I got good survival skills." I tried holding back a smile, but the corners of my lips disobeyed.

"I got good survival skills." He began mocking me, ending it with a rather retarded look on his face. "I could've died." His face went serious again.

"Oh, right. I'm the one who got scared half to death."

"You're just a sissy." He scoffed.

"Jay, I know you're my younger brother but please stop using third grade comments. I've dealt with enough of your childishness for today." I rolled my eyes.

He replied with a light laugh and then sat back down. I rolled my eyes once more. The idiot had dusted off his butt for nothing.

However, I took a seat as well, returning to my previous position.

"How'd you even find me here, anyways?" I was quite confused, considering I had never told anyone, besides June, about this place.

"I figured it was the only place you'd go when you don't want anyone to find out. Especially if your heart's been broken," he teased, causing me to glare at him.

"First of all, how do you even know about this place or that I come here? And second, stop being a twat. My heart's not broken."

He looked at me skeptically, narrowing his eyes at me and his eyebrows coming together.

"I may be younger, but I'm not stupid."

"What comment are you replying to?"

"Both."

"Dude!"

"I followed you one day, because you always used to sneak out to who knew where. Duh. And don't even lie, you're whipped," he admitted, and then threw some sand at me.

I frowned at both, the sand and his reply.

"I'm not whipped. The only thing that will be whipped is your butt if you don't shut up," I spat.

"And then you wonder why I act like a child; I'm treated like one." He shook his head at me.

"Just get out of here already."

"No, I came here to fulfill my duty." He straightened up, making me raise an eyebrow.

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say whatever he needed to. As I did, I took notice of just how much we looked alike.

I mean, of course, during the transcourse of my life I had obviously noticed our similar looks, but right then, it really did stand out to me how much he'd grown. Jay had always been the type of guy to look younger than he really was, but he had a personality that, for some strange reason, got him all the girls.

About a year ago, he graduated high school, and moved to London to go to some college there. Even though he specialized in art, he also went to do some photography stuff. I hadn't seen him ever since, so it was obviously a big surprise when I saw his obnoxiously likeable self with his hands on June. Also, it was a bit surprising to see how much more mature he looked—keyword: looked.

He had the same green eyes as me, except, unlike mine, they had this cool, which I had always believed to be incredibly unfair, by the way, ability to change colors from green to blue. And his hair was, unlike Bella's and mine, a light brown. He was paler too, just like my mother. His features seemed older, and it was rather odd seeing him the way—seeing him a lot more like me.

"June's going to a party tomorrow night. Blue said you need to be there."

Okay, June was not the party type.

"A party? Since when does she go to parties?" I asked him, except it was mostly to myself, considering I already knew that Jay didn't really have the answer to that.

"I don't know. Something about a Charlotte girl having a party at her house. The whole course was invited. And probably some other people."

I clenched my jaw, instantly standing up.

"Of course she would do this," I grumbled, beginning to walk back to my car, Jay following after me.

"I'm not done!" He grabbed my shoulder, stopping me from getting inside my car. "Blue said this is your chance to win her back."

I let out an incredulous laugh, swapping his hand away and resting my arm on the top of the car.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

He grinned.

"That, my brother, is where the plan starts."