Wonderwall

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•Wonderwall• 

" so this is for us.
This is for us who sing, who write,dance,draw, run, act and love
and this is for doing it even if no one will ever know because the beauty is in the act of doing it.
Not what it can lead to.

This is for the times i lose myself while writing,singing, playing
and no one is around and they will never know but i will forever remember and that shines brighter than any fame or glory i will ever have.

This is for you who paint, who write,who read or sing by yourself with the lights off and doors closed, when the world is asleep and the stars are aligned and maybe no one will ever hear it"

Grayson listened attentively, intrigued with every word leaving the mysterious beauty.

He was too focused, probably a bit tad much keeping his gaze fixated on her and only her. The room was filled with college students from different majors aligned together watching one another present their signature pieces in whatever they were majoring in.

Ethan sat next to grayson in the large pact classroom also very impressed by what Rose wrote but he also couldn't help notice his brother next to him. Eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pouted and eyes being too deep in trance. This guy is truly whipped

" Maybe no one will ever hear it, or read your words or see your art or know your thoughts
but it doesn't make it less glorious
it makes it mysterious. Infinite.Ethereal.

For it belongs to you and whatever god or spirit you believe in and only you can decide how much it meant  and means
and will forever mean
and other people will experience it too
through you.

Through your spirit. Through the way you talk. Through the way you walk and love and laugh and care.

And i never meant to write this long, but i what i want to say is:

Don't try to represent your art by making other people read or hear or see or touch it; make them feel it

Wear your art like your heart on your sleeve and keep it alive by making people feel a little lighter. Create art in order for yourself to become yourself.

Let your identity be your book, let the way people pronounce your name become like the sweetest melody.

So go create.
Take photographs in the wood, paint whatever comes in your mind, sing your heart out high up on a mountain, run alone in the rain
when no one will ever hear and your very existence will be the most hypnotizing scar.

Make your life, be your art
and you will never be forgotten."

In a matter of split flash seconds the room grew with applause echoing from every corner, displaying the pleased students. Relief washed over Rose, stealing away the anxiousness that captivated her from earlier.

Waiting for the claps to die down, she pursued her lips looking down into her fiddled hands. "I figured I would write this as a little reminder for everyone in this room."

She looked once again, locking eyes with several faces. "We're all gathered here together despite that each one of us has a different interest, different hobby and most importantly a different career pursue."

"I wanted to be relatable, in hopes of giving you a little inspiration rather than boring you guys out," she chuckled in a semi nervous manner.

Grayson stared ahead, an unconscious loving smile getting painted across his face. He knew at this point, one way or another, he had to get close ignoring the potential damage that would be done.

She was unique in his eyes, something he never witnessed before. A beautiful face to match a beautiful mind.

"Miss Rose," the professor looked over her, a proud smile faintly making it's way up. "I am absolutely pleased with your work, I'm positive you inspired them all today."

And he was right; Grayson felt so inspired in that exact moment. His hands tingled him, they just wanted to go create, grab his canvas and paint endlessly for hours.

And it is that moment he realized, he needed her vibes and energy around him more often.

Getting back to her seat with a satisfied grin on her face, it was finally another person's turn to present.

"Grayson, Grayson Dolan," Mr. Greg announced. "You're next," he checked up the roaster that held most of the college student's names, hitting Grayson with a reality check.

Rose was here. She's going to see the painting.

He didn't budge nor move but rather stay silent and fixed in his seat, letting his mind drift off to the land of worries. Ethan nudged him by the arm several times, forcing him into the current situation he was in as Grayson had no other option but to snap back.

"You'll do fine buddy" he reassured him, patting a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder—he seemed like he needed it.

Grayson got up glancing once more at his brother, grabbing from the corner his still yet covered painting before he stood in front of everyone, setting it direct to their visions.

The three professors aligned together, watching Grayson with anticipation as they knew he wouldn't disappoint.

Grayson was never this hesitant to show off his art but due to Rose's presence, he knew it was going to be a lot more harder for some unknown reason.

After elongated moments of hesitation and after getting an enough ounce of courage, his hands had removed the sheet carefully and slowly until it was fully exposed, bare and on display.

Muttered words out of shock and impressment were faintly heard. The student's face were pleased and slightly taken back. Perhaps...it was too dark?

Ethan couldn't help but smile cheekily in a proud manner at his brother's artwork also knowing something not everyone does— it's true hidden meaning.

Rose couldn't be anymore intrigued nor shocked either. Her mind played tricks on her, wandering off into so many questions. She was confused but couldn't deny that she was fascinated. However, it also left her wondering why.

Why would Grayson paint something like this? Was it a coincidence?

As it was a red rose.

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