LOGIN(Olandria’s POV) By the time the day finally ended, I felt… wrung out. Not exactly tired, just… stretched thin. Like one more thing might be enough to snap something I couldn’t fix. I had tried; really tried, to focus, but my mind kept slipping. Lines didn’t land right. Shapes felt off. Even when I got something decent down, it didn’t feel like mine like I had drawn it, but I wasn’t in it. Dr. Hale noticed. She didn’t say much, just a pause behind me at one point, a quiet, “You’re hesitating,” before moving on like she hadn’t just seen straight through me. I didn’t wait for anyone. The moment Dr. Hale dismissed us, I packed up faster than usual, ignoring Karl’s voice somewhere behind me calling my name. Fresh air. I needed air. The sky had shifted into that soft, fading blue, the kind that sat somewhere between day and night without committing to either. The courtyard was quieter now, the late evening settling in with that soft golden light
(Olandria’s POV) My grip tightened around the phone. I knew it. That voice I hadn't heard for months. Not just the sound of it, but the weight behind it. The way it slipped under my skin before I could stop it. The way my body reacted before my mind caught up. I just… didn’t want to. “…Say something,” she continued, impatience creeping in now. “Or are you pretending you don’t recognize me?” For a second, I said nothing. The silence stretched long enough that it almost felt like I could still hang up and pretend this never happened. But that had never worked before. “…I know it's you, Clare.” I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended. There was a pause on the other end. Then a soft, humorless laugh. “Good,” she said. “I’d hate to think I raised someone that forgetful.” Raised…more like groomed a piggy bank. Around me, the room had started to come back to life; chairs shifting, people talking, laughter slipping through in bursts,
(Olandria’s POV) The room didn’t settle, even after Dr. Hale moved on, even after the quiet murmur of voices returned, something still lingered; thin, tight, stretched across the space like a wire that hadn’t snapped yet. I could still feel it. The image. Me. My grip tightened slightly around my pencil, though I wasn’t drawing. I couldn’t. Not with that still sitting in my head like it had been burned there. She wasn’t present. The words echoed louder than they should have. Great, an A-list Art tutor reading me in front of everyone. Ugh! I rolled my eyes, forcing my gaze down to my sketchbook. Focus. Just focus. Except, I couldn’t even tell if I was focusing anymore or just… pretending to. “Next.” Dr. Hale’s voice cut through again. Ever calm, precise and too soon since I wasn't exactly proud of my work…yet. My shoulders stiffened
(Ernest’s POV) The room didn’t breathe. Her question hung there, suspended between expectation and silence. What did you see? I kept my gaze on the image projected in front of the room, the still frame frozen in light. It looked different up there. More honest. I swallowed. “I wasn’t trying to create anything,” I said finally. My voice sounded steady, which surprised me because I was a nervous reck inside. “I just… noticed.” I added. A faint shift moved through the room with someone adjusting in their seat causing the chair to creak. Dr. Hale didn’t interrupt, she just stared at the projected image and nodded. After awhile, she asked. “What did you notice?” I exhaled quietly, my grip tightening slightly around the camera in my hand. “She wasn’t… present. I mean, she was sitting there,” I added, gesturing lightly toward where she had been. “Working. But…” I hesitated, because saying it out loud felt like crossing something. “…she wasn’t present,” I finished. I could f
(Olandria’s POV) Sleep didn’t come easy and when it finally did, it didn’t stay. I woke up before my alarm, staring at the ceiling with that heavy, disoriented feeling that came from too many thoughts and not enough rest. For a second, I didn’t move, then reality settled back in. The room. The workshop. Yesterday. My chest tightened slightly as I turned my head, my gaze landing on the chair where I had dropped my bag. My phone was still there, screen dark, quiet… like nothing had happened. I knew better but still, I reached for it. I unlocked it and checked, the debit alert didn’t change which meant that, it was still gone. Almost half. My grip tightened briefly before I locked the screen again, tossing it back onto the bed like it had burned me. Don’t think about it. Not now. I pushed myself up, running a hand through my hair as I swung my legs off the bed. If I kept moving, maybe my mind wouldn’t catch up. Across the
(Olandria’s POV) The walk back felt longer than it should have.Karl didn’t rush me. For once, she didn’t talk much either, just stayed close, her arm brushing mine occasionally like she was making sure I was still there. Still steady.Still… okay. “I’m fine, you know,” I muttered after a while, my voice quieter than I intended. “Mm,” she hummed, not even looking at me. “You keep saying that.” “I am.” “Sure.” I shot her a look. “You’re very supportive.” “I am supportive,” she replied easily. “I just don’t believe you.” I exhaled, shaking my head slightly. “You’re annoying.” “And you love me.” “Debatable.” She grinned, nudging my shoulder lightly. “Liar.” We reached my door sooner than I expected. I paused for a second, hand hovering over the handle before pushing it open. The room was empty. My eyes flicked briefly to Ernest’s side, his camera wasn’t there. Probably, he wasn’t back yet. Someth
(Olandria’s POV) The hallway noise faded the second the door shut behind us, though not completely. Just… dulled; like everything outside had been pushed a few feet away, leaving the room quieter, softer. I didn’t real
(Olandria’s POV) The lecture room felt different now that we were actually seated in it and not just passing in tour mode. Now, we were present and it became more alive. The wooden chairs creaked softly as people adjusted, sketchbooks flipping open, pens clicking,
(Olandria’s POV) Morning didn’t ask for permission. It arrived loud. Not in noise though, but in movement audible through the light wall of our ‘less intriguing abode.’ Doors opening, voices echoing down the hallway with footsteps overlapping in uneven rhythms like everyone had somew
(Olandria’s POV) After a while of drawing aimlessly, I didn’t even realize I had walked all the way to the balcony until my hands were gripping the railing, fingers tightening against the cold metal. The air outside hit differently. Cooler, sharper and exactly what I needed.







