Mr.Brightside

Chapter 80

 Jack's Dilemma

The night after Clara left, I sat alone in my studio. The dim light of the lamp cast long shadows on the half-finished projects scattered around me. The weight of the conversation we had earlier pressed heavily on my chest. I hadn't wanted to hurt her, hadn't wanted to pull away—but I needed to. Something inside me had been restless for too long.

I picked up the sketchbook that was lying on the edge of the workbench and flipped through the pages. Ideas I'd jotted down over the past few weeks stared back at me—designs, concepts, fragments of what could be something great, but none of them felt complete. None of them felt like me.

I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a deep breath. Clara had everything figured out, or at least she knew where she was going. Her school was on the verge of becoming something real, something powerful. She had a vision, a purpose. But what about me?

I'd been floating, drifting along on the current of her ambition, which I'd been happy to do—until now. Until I realized that I'd lost my own direction in the process.

The thought gnawed at me. For so long, I'd believed that supporting Clara was enough, that being there for her and helping her bring her dream to life would give me a sense of fulfillment. And in a way, it had. I loved her, and I wanted nothing more than to see her succeed. But somewhere along the way, I'd neglected my own desires, my own goals.

I tossed the sketchbook back onto the workbench with a frustrated sigh. This wasn't what I wanted. This aimless feeling, this uncertainty—it wasn't me. I used to have a clear vision for my work, a passion that drove me to create, to innovate. But now... I felt stuck.

I stood up and crossed the room to the window, looking out at the quiet street below. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the pavement slick and shiny under the soft glow of the streetlights. It reminded me of the nights Clara and I had spent dreaming about our future together, imagining the lives we'd build side by side.

But now, our paths felt different. Hers was paved with plans and schedules, with clear goals and deadlines. Mine... mine felt like it was crumbling beneath my feet.

I needed to figure out what I wanted, who I was apart from Clara's dream. And I needed to do it soon, before the distance between us grew any wider.

A New Opportunity

The next morning, I woke up feeling a strange sense of resolve. It wasn't clarity exactly, but there was a small spark of determination inside me that hadn't been there the night before.

As I sat at the kitchen table, sipping my coffee, my phone buzzed with a notification. It was an email from an old friend, someone I hadn't spoken to in years—Nick. He was a fellow artist, someone I'd met during my early days of working with wood and metal. We'd lost touch over the years as our careers took different paths, but seeing his name brought a rush of memories flooding back.

Curious, I opened the email.

Subject: New Opportunity in Berlin?

Jack—

It's been a long time. I hope this email finds you well. I've been following your work from afar, and it's been inspiring to see how far you've come. I'm reaching out because I've recently relocated to Berlin and am working with a new creative collective here. We're looking for artists to collaborate on a large-scale public art installation, and your name immediately came to mind.

If you're interested, we'd love to have you out here for a few months to contribute to the project. It's a unique opportunity, one I think you'd really connect with. Let me know if you'd like to chat more about it.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Best,

Nick

Berlin. The idea of leaving everything behind for a while, of stepping away from the routine and the pressures of the school, felt both terrifying and exhilarating. I hadn't even considered something like this—a chance to create without boundaries, to push myself artistically in ways I hadn't in years. And the timing... it was almost too perfect. I needed this.

But then there was Clara. Could I really leave her in the middle of all this? The school's opening was just around the corner, and she was depending on me. Walking away now felt selfish, even if it was for something that could help me find my way again.

I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The weight of the decision pressed down on me. Staying meant continuing to be the support Clara needed, but it also meant putting my own needs on hold—again. Leaving for Berlin, even temporarily, could reignite the creative fire I'd lost, but it would mean stepping back from Clara's dream, maybe even risking the distance between us growing wider.

I picked up my phone and hovered over Clara's contact name. I needed to talk to her about this, but the thought of bringing it up felt like opening a Pandora's box. She had enough on her plate already, and I didn't want to add to her stress. But I couldn't ignore this opportunity.

I stood up, pacing the kitchen, my mind spinning in circles. I needed space to think—real space, away from the noise and the pressure. Without thinking, I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door, making my way toward the park near our house.

A Crossroads

As I walked through the empty park, the crisp autumn air filled my lungs, clearing my head. I found a bench near the pond and sat down, watching the still water reflect the gray sky above.

For the first time in weeks, I let myself just sit with my thoughts. No distractions, no work, no obligations. Just me, the quiet, and the decision I had to make.

Berlin represented something bigger than just a job. It was a chance to rediscover who I was as an artist, to create without limits, without the weight of expectations. It was a chance to break free from the routine that had been suffocating me for so long. But leaving Clara... that was the hardest part. We'd been through so much together, and I didn't want to lose her, not now, not ever.

But could I really keep giving her my best self if I didn't even know who that was anymore?

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves around me. I took a deep breath, feeling the cold air sting my lungs. This was it. I needed to make a choice. Stay here, by Clara's side, or go to Berlin and find the part of myself that had been missing for so long.

I reached for my phone again and, without letting myself hesitate, I dialed Nick's number.

"Jack?" Nick's voice crackled through the speaker after a few rings.

"Hey, Nick," I said, my voice steady. "Tell me more about this project in Berlin."

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