blind me with your colors || conan gray au

Prologue

Conan discovered the abandoned art classroom back when he just started out at college two years ago, still a freshman exploring the grounds. At the time, the whole room was covered in a  heavy layer of dust; it looked like it hadn't seen the light in years. In some ways, Conan felt connected to it— students wandered past it every day, and yet, it sat there, transparent: noticed, but not seen.

Ever since moving to California, Conan hasn't made many friends— just the customary acquaintances that form naturally from classes and such. Most of his friendships from his hometown fizzled out, as long-distance relationships tend to do. Most of his family barely knew him— didn't want to know him. Even Ashley, his childhood best friend, doesn't know all of Conan's ugly truths. Aside from his own artwork, nobody truly knew him, nobody stuck around long enough to discover what was under the layers of paint.

Back in Texas, in an unrecognizable, idle town, Conan was somebody. To his hometown, he was the "artistic boy," the one that could make any object come to life. To his close friends, he was loved and cherished for who he was, despite his bony frame and half-Japanese features.

But to the world, he was nobody.

Conan wanted to be somebody.

So, when his boyfriend at the time urged him to apply to UCLA, even knowing that there was no way he could afford the tuition on his own, Conan said, "Fuck it," and did just that. Conan knew that he had some artistic talent; however, he was still astonished when his acceptance letter simultaneously granted him a full scholarship to the fine arts program at UCLA and with it, an opportunity to escape the hole that he'd been born in.

Unrealistic expectations set, Conan quickly piled his limited number of belongings into a rental car, and set himself on his way to his new, exciting life.

Naturally, his picture-perfect UCLA college experience was nothing that he could have ever imagined. Just two months later, he was kicked out of his dorm room by his own roommate, blackmailed to never tell anyone why. With no money to rent his own place and nobody to turn to, Conan was forced to live out of the very same abandoned art classroom that he had discovered as a once excited freshman. And with that, Conan lost not only his living space, but also his faith and trust in people.

Two years later, Conan still finds himself living in the same room, which he now calls, "home," for the fear that his new roommates would tear him apart the same way as that first year.

It was perfect, really. He's closer to his classes, and with it being an art studio, he can devote even more time to perfecting his artwork to ensure that he can provide a future for himself.

Perfection doesn't always last, however. In fact, more often than not, someone will come along and destroy the perfect, little safe space you've built. They'll shred all the layers you've worked so hard to build, until you're left as nothing more than just a frail outline, a first draft, a mere sketch.

Hey y'all<3 Welcome to my story! I know the prologue was probably pretty boring, but I needed to introduce y'all to Conan's character. I promise it'll get better once the story begins to pick up. PLEASE leave comments, feedback, anything that you think will make this story better. Enjoy xx

also if you're from my instagram account @ weloveconangray, you are officially superior in my mind:)