The first event of particular significance at the fair is the painting contest, the one I've prepared for over the last two months, if not earlier. If I want to have a shot at winning it, I must be sure I have the best works. At the same time, I can't be too cocky. There's tough competition out there.

The biggest surprise, anyway, is seeing Preston Weddle among the participants. He's the Mayor's son, which shocks me even more as I initially thought he wouldn't be the type to mingle with the rest of the community. My initial impression is only confirmed in part, as he stays on his lane, checking his work instead of socializing like other contestants do.

By the way, now that I remember, I bought a raffle ticket earlier this week. The special raffle that comes after the painting contest offers some amazing prizes, while the revenue for the ticket sales goes to a special project. I believe it has to do with an initiative by the Social Circle.

To be more specific, a quilt the Circle started creating a few months ago and plan to finish so that they can auction it and then donate what they earn from the sale to local charities supporting families and children in need. I've donated for this cause three times already; that is if I count the raffle ticket, as well.

Anyway, the contest is set to start in a few minutes. I take advantage of the little time left to reach out to the Circle. They're busy betting on who has the greatest odds at winning. However, Mrs. Rountree notices me and greets me. "Kaesyn! Here you are. Kelly and I were discussing the entries."

"Good afternoon. Mrs. Rountree, Mrs. Cox, it's a pleasure to see you."

"Oh, come on, how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Briony. I'm not that old!" My neighbor protests, followed by Mrs. Cox and two other ladies laughing.

"Okay... I'll keep that in mind." I scratch my head, trying to hide the clear embarrassment. "By the way, who do you think will win?"

"Your painting is so neat, Kaesyn. I think you have a great shot at this. But then, the Mayor's son also did a great job. Paxton, right?"

Kelly Cox intervenes to correct her. "Preston. His name is Preston."

"Oh, sorry. I don't know why I keep getting it wrong." Honestly, I don't see why I should blame Briony for that. He isn't exactly a people's person, which is why not much is known about him.

I change topic. "So, about the quilt... How many raffle tickets have been sold so far?" I ask.

"Do you believe when I tell you the Mayor and his deputy bought twenty among themselves?" is Briony's surprising answer. Then, she precises. "I think they only did to donate a larger sum of money for the cause."

"There's a chance they may donate the prizes, too." If so, that would be another amazing sign of our administration's generosity. Seeing how committed this community is to support itself and others is heartwarming.

"Oh, the judges are ready to start. Good luck, Kaesyn." I don't answer straight away, but wave at Briony and the other ladies from the Circle, who go and take seats among the audience. As much as I wish their prediction were true, I can't underestimate my competition.

Here comes the jury, two men and a woman. They must be around the same age as the members of the Social Circle, or at most a few years younger. They also seem to be have extended knowledge of contemporary art. Anyway, what matters is that they give me useful feedback and are fair and transparent.

The judges start analyzing the first few paintings. As much as I try to keep my composure, I'm so nervous that I end up biting my nails. No-one notices, though. Ten minutes have passed since the judgement phase began. I wonder when is my turn, so that I can lift these burdening jitters off my back.

Unexpectedly, the three jurors split and decide to judge more works separately as a way to save time. The only woman in the jury walks in Preston's direction. She studies his panicky look, his contracted posture, his ragged breath. I feel for him. He has as much to lose as me, but has to deal with way more pressure simply because he's the Mayor's son.

Regardless of what awaits him, I have to focus back on my own work because the two male judges are both coming for me. I sweat so much that I'm a human fountain. Still, I flash my best smile as I greet them in a courteous manner. "Sirs, I have the pleasure to introduce myself and my work. I'm Kaesyn Seeley and-"

I don't know why I've just interrupted myself. It doesn't have to do with the judges' stone cold looks, or their stark presence... Oh, come on! Why am I lying to myself? It definitely has. I have to learn self-control and composure more or I'm bound to make more and more shitty figures all the time.

I take a deep breath. "What I meant to say, I'm Kaesyn Seeley and this is my view of Middletown at dusk. This may look like a landscape but it isn't really it. It's rather how I perceive the town, how I feel it, as the sun has set and the night is starting to fall." I think my explanation is convincing; I hope my technique is, as well.

Neither of the two men say a word. They just write something on their notebooks. As much as I want to take a quick peek at it, I stay put. I'm not supposed to know my result in advance. The wait is so nerve wrecking, though. At last, one of the two judges breaks the silence. "Thank you. Good luck with everything."

"It's been a pleasure." I shake hands with each of them; then, I watch them leave before turning my gaze back at my painting. I'm genuinely proud of it. There have been times where my confidence in my work wavered; yet, the hard work has paid off. I don't know if I'll win, but, even I I don't, I won't have any regrets.

The judgement phase is over when the three jurors are done with the last contestant. Soon after, they announce they'll retreat to deliberate, which means more and more time will pass. Hopefully not too much, otherwise I'll be tired by the time we move on to the next activity.

I use these minutes separating me from the verdict to catch up with Jennifer, who has socialized all the time. I think she only paid attention to the moment my painting was examined. Well, I don't care if she was busier chit chatting than following through the contest seriously. She's here for me, which is what matters.

"So, Jen, what do you think?"

"Wow... So much talent. Preston Weddle holds his own ground quite well. But I'm sure you'll win. You've worked so hard for it!" How she boosts my confidence... no-one can replicate it. Still, I must keep myself grounded. Anything is possible. If I'm cocky, the downfall will be harder and more hurtful.

Plus, I'm here to enjoy what Middletown has to offer for this special occasion, not to brag about my talents. Well... actually, if I win, I do get some bragging rights... Oh, when are judges back? I can't stand the wait to the point that I'm rambling. Someone stop me!