Every Single Day (A Fall Like Rain story)

Sapphires

Unlike his girlfriend, Mark didn't bury himself in work when he was going through things. Instead, he turned to art. And not the kind of art he did for work, but traditional, old school kind of art, made by his hands.

It was just perfect timing that their friend, Nico, a development worker for a small, private not-for-profit, had a volunteer art workshop that Saturday for one of their communities. This had been booked weeks ago, and Rain was supposed to go, too, but of course she wasn't there because she had to work. But Mark still went, anyway, if only to do something to get him out of his somber mood.

"Why does yours look so different from ours?" Faith, Nico's girlfriend and one of Rain's best friends, whined. She pointed at Mark's canvas. "We're both copying the same painting, right?"
"It's supposed to be different, French Fries. Stop comparing," Nico said with a laugh from the other side, calling her by his pet name. "And maybe you need to accept that art is not one of your strongest suits."

The workshop was set up like those paint and sip studios, where each kid and adult were to copy a painting that an art studio lent to them. They had all the materials, plus snacks but instead of alcoholic drinks, they had different flavors of juice in tetra packs – a good decision, so no one would accidentally dip their paint brushes in their drinks. Cheerful chatter and laughter filled the room as each volunteer got to know their partners and started their pieces and Mark was glad he had something else to focus on.

Faith pouted. "But they're not even following the lines!"

Mark's partner was a seven-year-old girl named Inah, who had listened with rapt attention as he gave her instructions while he sketched the guides in pencil on the canvas. But she painted over and outside the lines soon as they started, and Mark decided to let it be. He didn't mind because the guides were just that, guides and not rules they had to follow, and he wanted Inah to have fun. Rain, on the other hand, if she was here, would definitely follow the lines.

At the thought of his Rain, Mark pulled his phone out of his pocket, hoping to see a notification with her name on the screen. But what greeted him was just his wallpaper, a photo they took on their trip to Japan three months ago, their first international trip together. The trip felt like ages ago. He went ahead and opened his inbox anyway, in case somehow his notifications hadn't been working and he just missed it. But there was still nothing.

"Did she text you?"

Mark looked up at Faith and Nico, who were both giving him concerned looks. "No," he mumbled. He locked his phone and put it face down on the table. It had been twelve hours since they last talked to each other. It wasn't the longest time they hadn't talked - that time before they got together was still the longest, and they weren't even mad at each other. To be fair, she had "responded" with a like on his message when he asked her if she had gotten home. She had also liked his message telling her that he was with Faith and Nico, but the other messages about wanting to talk, apologizing, and everything else were left on read, no reactions at all.

"Did she text you?" He asked as he dipped his brush in the cup on the table beside their easel to wash it.

Faith's hesitation was enough for him to get his answer. "It's okay if she did," he continued. "I'd rather that she did than you know, keep it all in. At least it means this still matters to her."

"Ano ka ba, of course this matters to her," Faith chided at him. "You matter to her. She wouldn't have asked us to watch out for you today if she wasn't thinking of you."

"Geez, French Fries, he wasn't supposed to know that," Nico said beside her, rolling his eyes good naturedly.

"It's not like he didn't know that," Faith shot back. Then she pointed her brush at Mark. "How bad was it? She didn't tell us much, but she sounded very sad."