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"...I need to see him again."
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'Should I or should I not...'
After you took a picture of the enigmatic boy, your thoughts were incredibly bizarre.
In all actuality, you just took a picture of a stranger. That's meant to be strange, isn't it?
You stared at the printout of the picture in your hand, taking in every detail and longing to recapture the dreamlike experience you had just a day before on your canvas.
"AHHH fuck it" You ran a hand through your hair in frustration.
It's not like you hadn't made an effort to let the mysterious person know that you had unintentionally taken his photo. But till you reached outside, the green-haired boy was nowhere to be seen.
Granting you a brief glimpse of true beauty before disappearing.
Shaking your head, you reached for a nearby brush and dipped it in a suitable shade. Before the brush touched the canvas, you paused.
You knew deep down that you would never be able to duplicate the same scene as it was on the canvas.
You will never be able to recreate that boy in your painting, no matter how hard you try.
But it didn't matter.
You painted for a different reason.
When you were a child, you grew frustrated that you were unable to capture the most beautiful moments of your life. You tried to memorize all those moments, but they quickly evaporated from your mind, leaving just hazy pictures of the memory.
That's when you picked up a brush, creating those same moments as messy stick figures on a page.
They were awful at first, but over time, your emotions seeped into every piece you created until,
Every painting contained a unique memory of yours.
You didn't mind if they didn't resemble the original memory. Your paintings reflected your feelings.
You were content with that.
You moved your brush across the canvas one last time before placing it in the water cup.
How long has it been? An hour? Maybe more?
When you saw the painting in front of you, you smiled. It didn't matter that it was way past midnight, it didn't matter if the painting looked messy.
What was important was that, after weeks of lacking inspiration, you were able to find it within a stranger petting cats.
The strangest thing about it is that...
You wanted to meet this boy. You wanted to know everything about him. You wished to paint him once more. You wanted to touch him just to see if such a person could even be real.
'...I need to see him again.'
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Chapter 3: The Sense of an Ending
Tony Webster, recalls how he and his clique met Adrian Finn at school and vowed to remain friends for life. When the past catches up with Tony, he reflects on the paths he and his friends have taken.
