𝙎𝙏. 𝙀𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 . TIMOTHEE CHALAMET

𝙊𝙉𝙀 !

♪

It was near the end of summer and the leaves were beginning to ripen into light shades of golden marmalade. My eighteenth birthday was just a week before and everything felt fast. I wanted to slow down but life just wouldn't let me. I wanted relaxation but, as expected, life couldn't give me that either.

I had exactly two friends: Elsie Ridgedorf and Yui Okada. Elsie and I never really hung out. We didn't have much in common except for how long we had been friends. The only thing that kept us together was our long (almost sickening) history. I didn't like her too much and the truth was, I wasn't being fake as she didn't like me as well. We just called each other best friends because that's what everyone else thought. Yui and I, on the other hand, met at the beginning of freshman year. She was new and was from some random place in Wyoming. There were more things we had in common, for example, we both had similarities in the way we thought, characteristics we valued, movies we liked, our jokes, etc. We hung out more than Elsie and I ever did.

Elsie had some type of a god complex to her, or she just wanted to be better than me. It was always like that; going out of her way to find things we all didn't have or couldn't do. She would try her best to be this enigmatic being, which never worked out since she was bad at it. Yui and I would always end up finding out whatever she was up to or whatever she was trying to hide to keep this 'mysterious' persona. The feeling of pity for her would always be overwhelming. She was my friend at the end of the day. We might not have the most in common, yet she was the one who watched me through all my highs and stayed with me through all my lows.

•

Senior year was a pain. My eighteenth birthday was a pain. Elsie was a pain. All I had left was Yui and my small ounce of passion for art. I missed my old self— back when I was lively and enjoyed doing the things I did. I had only been alive for 18 years and it scared me. I had too much time left that I didn't know what I would have to do with it. I held onto art for dear life. Without art, I was nothing. I was an average student with average study skills and grades. I had been called a prodigy before and the truth is, I don't know if I am. I had talent, for sure. But without art, I was just like any other kid. Without art, I was going to have to live out my boring life and wait until I got pudgy and ugly with children at the ripe age of thirty-four. Without art, I would have to stay here. Without art, I'd rather die.

Maybe there was a reason why I held on to art and never let go. It was the only thing that gave me potential. I was in a slump, or that's what my art teacher said. She even told me art school wasn't the only way, but to me, yes it was. I even got to the point where I persuaded myself, that maybe I should just quit, but I didn't and just thought I was just being a bitter teenager going through puberty. Now that I was going to graduate in less than ten months and now that I had to submit portfolios in less than five months, I needed to get out of the hole I had dug myself in.

For artists to get motivated, they need inspiration. To get these inspirations, they venture out to blend themselves into communities with vast amounts of culture. Thanks to Yui's avid passion for seeking out the most obnoxiously scarce activities, I didn't have the hardest time satisfying my idle search for inspiration. Yui had found a house concert (which we later found out was just a party) for Elsie and me to come to take part in. Elsie wasn't the type for house concerts, she was more of a booked venue or stage type of girl. She liked to keep things official. However, that night she had decided to join us. I enjoyed being in the presence of my two friends. No matter how I felt about them individually, at the end of the day, the dynamic between us three was quite delightful.

•

The little excitement of being a teenage girl overflowed my two friends as they got ready for the night in my room. My room bloomed pink as the girls dug through my closet. Mini skirts flew around my room, getting drenched in the nauseating scent of mixed perfumes. A sense of nostalgia took over while I watched them, which I dreaded. Nostalgic feelings made me sad. I hated how it reminded me of all the times I would never be able to grasp onto again. This was one of the things I hated the most about living the life that was given to me. It was unfair. Whenever I was genuinely happy, I would be visited by the most overwhelming emotions that would sabotage my mood. Sometimes I wished to live a simple life. I wanted to be a simple girl. A simple person in a simple world with simple thoughts and simple problems. Or maybe, no thoughts at all. I would rather have lived as an empty shell than deal with my mind that had been exploited by my own awareness. However, though I would be contradicting my whole vent, I was still glad that my sense of awareness didn't make me a fool who couldn't read a room.