4SINS: DECEPTION OF LUCIAN MARCUS GREY

7

The next few weeks after Glaryse joined the Art Club felt like a delicate balancing act. Between late-night study sessions, her growing passion for art, and her part-time job at Café Soul Ace, there wasn't much room left for anything else. But despite the exhaustion that weighed on her bones, she couldn't deny that it all felt worthwhile.

The Art Club had become a sanctuary where she could breathe without the constant weight of expectations. The space was imperfect, with its paint-splattered floors and walls lined with student work, but it felt like home. As soon as she stepped inside, she thought of unwinding herself just a little. Here, perfection didn't matter. Emotions could be messy, and that was okay.

Zarisha, her ever-spirited best friend, had immediately made herself at home. She found a group of students who shared her love for abstract expressionism, and within moments, the room buzzed with her infectious energy. Glaryse, meanwhile, wandered toward the back of the room, where a long table was littered with sketchbooks, pastels, and pencils. The room hummed with quiet conversations and the rhythmic sound of people working, each lost in their world.

It was peaceful. It was free. She felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in weeks.

A sudden burst of energy interrupted her thoughts as she sat down, reaching for a sketchpad. A voice too bright and too full of life to ignore echoed across the room.

"Hey, newbie! " A girl with wild hair, a paint-splattered jacket, and a devil-may-care grin stormed toward her, practically tackling Glaryse into a hug.

"I'm Erythine! " she announced, her voice loud and full of life. "You're Glaryse, right? I heard you and Zarisha just joined. Welcome to the madhouse!"

Glaryse smiled, a little startled by the force of the greeting but warmed by Erythine's unrestrained joy.

"Uh, thanks," she said, still taken aback. "I didn't know the club was so... lively."

"Oh, honey," Erythine said with a wink. "This is where all the weirdos are. Just wait until we get into full swing. By the end of the semester, you'll be covered in paint, and you won't even know how you got there."

Zarisha, who had been chatting nearby, glanced over and grinned. She made her way over, clearly delighted by the new addition to the club.

"This is going to be fun," Zarisha remarked, eyes glinting with mischief. "You two are going to get along like a house on fire."

Erythine laughed, throwing an arm around Glaryse's shoulders and guiding her toward a table filled with supplies. "Let's just say I'm artistic in every possible way. I'm going to teach you all my tricks, Glaryse. You ready to get messy?"

Glaryse hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Erythine's unrestrained enthusiasm made her want to dive in. "Sure," she said, a small laugh escaping her. "Let's do it."

As the session wore on, she found herself drawn into the rhythm of the room. There was a looseness here she hadn't expected—people working at their own pace, stopping to chat, sharing tips, or simply getting lost in their thoughts. It was a space where perfection didn't matter, and in that sense, it felt like a small rebellion against the pressures of her daily life.

Erythine hovered nearby, guiding Glaryse with her usual boundless energy. She offered tips on shading and blending and suggested random color combinations she would never have considered. It felt free to create without worrying about whether it would be "good enough." For once, she was allowed to exist in the process simply.

Zarisha, lost in her world of abstract sketches, would occasionally pause, laugh at the absurdity of her work, and then dive back in with even more vigor.