Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

CHAPTER ELEVEN: UNFINISHED BUSINESS

“I said I’m looking for Malcolm Ernest,” the girl repeated, her tone smooth but firmer this time. “I heard you,” I replied, my hand still resting on the door, blocking just enough space to make it clear she wasn’t walking in uninvited. A flicker of amusement crossed her face. “Are you his assistant?” she asked lightly. I smiled. “Do I look like one?” Her eyes dragged over my thick ash sweats; quick, assessing, before she tilted her head slightly. “Could pass for one though with how… territorial you are looking now.” I was about to give her a piece of my mind then I heard Ernest exhale quietly,“Lydia.” The name landed like recognition, like familiarity and…history. My grip on the door tightened just a fraction. The girl, Lydia, shifted her attention past me again, her lips curving into something softer. Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said as though she didn't walk all the way her to see him. I

CHAPTER TWELVE: THE NOTE

(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. “Are you serious right now?” I snapped into the open air, my voice breaking the stillness of the night. It wasn’t directed at anyone and maybe that was the problem. “Plagiarism?” I let out a hollow laugh, pacing once before returning to the railing. “Out of everything… that’s what you pick?” My chest rose and fell unevenly, “I didn’t do anything,” I muttered, quieter now. “I didn’t…” but the words died in my throat because saying it out loud didn’t make it feel any less fragile. I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “So what? Someone just wakes up and decides to ruin my life for fun?” The question hung there. Unanswered. The tears were not forthcoming and so, I stayed there for a few

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WHERE CREATION BREATHES

(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 somewhere to be and nowhere to stand still. I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds longer than necessary before finally sitting up. ‘Workshop…Right.’ The word settled in my chest with a strange mix of pressure and possibility. I pushed the blanket off and stood, stretching slightly before glancing across the room. Ernest was already up and of course he was dressed and ready. Trouser ironed to the nines, blue quarter zip sweatshirt, and camera slung over his shoulder like it belonged there. He glanced at me once, briefly. “You’re going to be late.” I frowned. “For what?” “Tour starts in ten.” I blinked. Oops! “…Already?” He didn’t answer, just adj

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: LINES CROSSED

(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, whispers fading into something quieter… more focused. I sat beside Karl, my sketchbook resting on my lap, pencil tucked between my fingers but unmoving. I was thinking about everything else. “Why do you look like you’re about to fight the air?” Karl whispered, leaning slightly into me. “I might,” I muttered. She grinned and flipped her brown wavy hair playfully, “Give me five minutes, I’ll join you.” A few seats ahead, I spotted Ernest. His back straight, elbows resting lightly on his knees, camera hanging but untouched. His attention was fixed forward like he had already decided this mattered. He didn’t look back and for som

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: AFTER THE SPILL

(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 realize how much I needed that until I stood there… still dripping slightly, shirt clinging uncomfortably to my skin, the faint stickiness of juice settling in. Karl didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at me with questions in her eyes. “Okay,” she said, already moving. “Nope. We’re not doing the standing-there-looking-like-a-wet-cat thing. Come here.” Before I could respond, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me further into the room. Her room was… warmer than mine. Not in temperature though, but in feeling. There were little things everywhere; soft throw pillows tossed over the bed, a half-open suitcase spilling clothes in a way that so

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE UNSAID

(Ernest’s POV) The hallway felt longer on the way back. Not physically. It was the same stretch of polished floor, the same muted lighting casting soft shadows against the walls but something about it dragged; like each step had weight now, like I was walking through something thicker than air.I exhaled slowly, running a hand over the back of my neck as I turned the corner. I shouldn’t have gone. Not because I regretted checking on her, but because of the way she had looked at me. It was defensive, like I had crossed a line I didn’t even realize was there. Maybe I had. My jaw tightened slightly. The memory replayed, no irritation… just clarity. There had been no hesitation in the push she gave me. No second-guessing, just instinct. That said more than anything she could have said out loud. I reached our door and paused for a second, fingers resting lightly against the handle before pushing it open. The room was exactly as we left it. Undisturbed.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: DEBIT ALERT

(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

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: UNDER OBSERVATION

(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

CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE PROJECTION

(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

CHAPTER TWENTY: THE CALL

(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

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