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Josh's POV

"Are you okay?" Tyler pat my shoulder.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine," I sighed.

"Your going to do amazing!" Tyler assured me.

"I hope so," I hugged him.

"Josh! Your up next," my art teacher informed me.

I took a art class club sorta thing. After school twice a week I would paint in a class. It was for people my age. Everyone in that class knew what they were doing. I felt lost.

We're having an art contest with my program  and a few other art clubs. We each have to paint a realistic painting. What was the hard thing is that we only had 3 hours. That was something that made me most nervous. I looked in the crowd seeing Tyler, Debby and Jenna taking their seats in the front row. My parents, brother and sister sitting by them. This could be a day I can show them that I can be someone they can be proud of.

"Please welcome on the stage, Joshua Dun from Main Street Art Program," The person on the speaker said.

My friends assured me everything  was going to go great and that I was going to win for sure. It's not like I cared most about winning (that's a lie) I just don't want people to think I can't paint for shit. I want to try my best.

I walked on stage and heard some applause and I heard Tyler cheering me on from the crowd. I sat down in my seat next to a canvas. I looked at my surroundings and saw 3 chairs around mine. I saw people come out.

One very artistic dude. He had light brown hair and glasses. He walked confidently and sat down like he had no worries in the world.

A girl sat next to me, she had bright purple hair and bunch of piercings on her face. She gave me kind of that goth kind of vibe. I was worried she was going to win.

The last contestant walked in. She walked a shy girl and rushed to get in her seat. Her presence is what caught my attention the most out of all. She's got this special aura. I had a feeling about her.

I looked around and back at the crowd. I wonder how they were going react. What painting are they going to make us paint? Will I lose? Did that purple haired girl give me a nasty look? What am I doing-?

"You may begin," the man on the speaker spoke.

I cut off my thoughts and looked at the screen infront of us, a painting of a very famous painting "The Swing" by Jean-Honoré Fragonard. I looked beside me and saw everyone already painting and I didn't start. I rushed to get my paint brush and paint and ready the base. 

I tired to look at the other contestants paintings to see what they were doing but I didn't want to see as cheating or invasive. The girl next to me was painting with great detail. You could already see the painting coming alive.

I looked back at the crowd and see everyone studying our every move and seeing my teacher giving me a thumbs up. It gave me a little motivation.

An hour and a half pasted by and I finished painting the lady on the swing. I looked at my other contestants and saw them almost finishing up.

Time was going by fast and slow. I tired to be patient and tired to my painting be perfect as it can be. I didnt want anything to mess me up on anything. I tired carefully but I didn't want to waste time. I put too much time on the small white dog in the corner than the actual painting.

We had one more hour left and I felt like I could make it. I tired hard and hard. I was stressed out and nervous but kept trying. I wanted to be labeled as good. I wanted to make my parents and my teacher proud of me.