Things we lose. Things we love. Things we hold. They will always be lost. No matter how tight you hold onto them. Over and over... They slip through the cracks like sand. I couldn't save him. I couldn't save myself. I couldn't save them. Again And again. History will always repeat. No matter how hard I try...

TW// This fic includes topics of Gender Dysphoria and Depression. Reader discretion is advised Paintbrush is a 16 year old dropout music artist with a dream to become mainstream. Even though they may have the skills, do they have the willpower to get through their journey alone?