Bound By Brushstrokes

Part-3

Sitting at the desk, I peeked at Karishma a few times, finally relaxing when I saw her shoulders slowly rising and falling asleep. Getting to my feet, I brought my bag with me to the bathroom and washed away the day. It felt good to dress in fresh clothes and scrub my teeth until I couldn't feel any tarter anyway along the base of my teeth. Feeling about ten percent better than when I'd gone in, I went back to the desk and saw about a million messages with my sister's name next to it.

-This is not funny.

-Call me now.

-If you can't respect what is best for you, then don't come home.

-What would you like us to do with  this art trophy?

My entire body heated up. Shara knew how much the trophy meant to me. It was the first thing I'd earned when I was a child and drawing for the first time. Using it against me almost had me throwing my phone against the wall.

I typed in three different messages before settling on, I understand. Do what you need to do with it.

Flipping the notifications off, I laid the phone face down on the table and rested my face in my hands. All I wanted to do was cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I felt exhausted and empty. Here I was, doing the one thing all comic artists wanted to do and I was completely miserable.

Shara would never understand. She wanted me to get a "normal" job, find a husband, make kids, raise them how she wanted them raised, then take care of her when she was too old to take care of herself.

And I didn't want to do it.

If she knew I was gay, losing the trophy would be the least of my worries. But she was already disowning me bit by bit with every passing day. What worse could she do to me? Completely cut me off?

But she would tell mom and dad. They'd been accepting of everything I'd done, but I knew my family wouldn't know what to do if I came out to them. I didn't know but I was also afraid to tell them. When I was younger, I'd gone to India with my family and sat at the dinner table listening to my grandparents talk about how they wished it was still illegal to be gay with the rest of my family nodding in agreement.

I'd been too afraid since then to voice it.

Sitting back in the chair, I stared upward. Cutting ties would be the best thing. Painful, but the best. It would happen one way or another. I could feel the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me as I considered the escalating tensions with Shara. The realization that my dreams and identity were at odds with my family's expectations deepened my sense of isolation. As I sat there, I knew I had to confront these fears. But for now, I was in a place where I could explore my passion for art and perhaps even find the courage to be true to myself.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts, ready to face whatever came next.Later I would figure out how to have the difficult conversation with my sister. Until then, I would distract myself with work.I grabbed the manilla envelope and opened it.

I could feel a rush of excitement as I looked through the character descriptions. Each one was vividly crafted, bringing their personalities to life in a way that made them relatable. I couldn’t help but see pieces of myself in the protagonist, a writer navigating her emotions and fears.

Sliding the sack of papers out, I crossed my legs and went over the first page and stared at it before rereading it a third time.

Title: Secret Crush

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Story synopsis: Writer falls in love with her artist and struggles with confessing her feelings to her and tries to do so with a story script. Will she be successful or lose one of the most important people to her?