Mary and the Forest Within

Chapter 5 – Among Colors and Secrets

Mary’s laughter still lingered in the air. Nicholas fixed his gaze on her, as if he had momentarily forgotten they were inside the art studio. Yong, however, with his usual seriousness, picked up his canvas and walked straight to the instructor without saying a word. He cast a cold glance at Nicholas, as though an unspoken history existed between the two.

Nicholas muttered under his breath, his tone laced with admiration.

— I like that he never backs down…

He stepped forward to help Mary gather her things. He lifted her half-finished painting from the easel and leaned it carefully against the wall.

Mary smiled softly.

— Did you two meet here at the studio? Are you friends?

Nicholas let out a short, sarcastic laugh.

— Friends? Imagine me being friends with that arrogant kid.

Mary blinked, slightly taken aback, but pressed on.

— Still… it’s obvious you know each other well.

For a fleeting moment, a shadow crossed Nicholas’s eyes.

— If I didn’t know him… maybe things would’ve been much better.

The weight in his voice stirred Mary’s curiosity. She wanted to ask more, to peel back the hidden layers. But it was too soon—she was only just stepping into their world. So she held back and shifted the topic.

— By the way, your friend Helen—the one I met at the exhibition—does she come here too?

— Sometimes. — Nicholas’s tone was distant as he avoided her eyes. — Anyway, I should go. See you tomorrow.

— Tomorrow? I thought the workshop was closed.

— No, weekends have back-to-back sessions. Totally optional. If you’re busy, you don’t need to come.

— No, I’ll definitely come. I think it’s really helpful.

After he left, Mary bent down to collect her brushes. Her eyes drifted to Yong, who was listening intently to the instructor. She waited patiently, hoping the teacher would have time to give her feedback too. Just then, a few girls approached her.

— Hey, are you new here? — one of them asked with a friendly smile.

— Yes, this is my first session. — Mary replied politely.

— How long have you been painting? — another asked curiously.

— For quite a while… but until recently I was self-taught. I only started classes this term.

The girls lit up and soon they were chatting excitedly about art. Mary felt genuinely welcomed. That was when the instructor came over.

— Mary, are you finished?

— Yes, I was waiting to hear your opinion.

The teacher studied her painting, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

— Not bad at all. Your colors blend nicely, but you’re still weak with brush control. Here—if you’d used a cat-tongue brush, it would’ve worked better.

Mary chuckled nervously.

— Funny, Nicholas said the same thing.

The instructor nodded approvingly, then turned toward Yong.

— Yong, aren’t you going to give her some feedback before you leave?

Yong cast a quick, indifferent glance at the canvas.

— For a beginner, it’s pretty good. Nothing’s really missing.

The instructor smiled knowingly.

— As always, your words are more encouraging than discouraging.

Yong gave a silent nod of farewell and walked away. Mary wondered, What did he mean by beginner? Was he mocking me… or trying to be kind? But her thoughts kept circling back to Nicholas. He, like the teacher, had given precise, observant advice.

The next day Mary returned to the studio. Nicholas wasn’t there, and disappointment quietly settled in her chest. But when she spotted Helen, her face lit up.

— Helen! You remember me, right?

— Of course, Mary! Welcome back.

— Have you seen Nicholas? He told me he’d be here today.

— Oh, Nicholas? He’s never consistent. Maybe he had something else to do.

Mary nodded, then threw herself into her work. By the end of class, she found herself staring at Yong’s canvas. The colors were vibrant, each brushstroke bold and deliberate.

— Wow… that’s amazing! — the words slipped from her lips.

Yong looked startled.

— It’s not that amazing. Still needs work.

— No, seriously, it’s brilliant. Even the masters didn’t start like this.

A crooked smile tugged at his mouth.

— Painting is about persistence. It’s all about how much time you’re willing to give.

— True. Anyone who becomes a master has spent years of effort.

— Yeah… like Nicholas. — Yong added slyly.

Mary hesitated.

— You two don’t seem very close, but you argue like old friends.

— I wouldn’t call it that. — His voice grew firm.

He packed his things and left. Mary stood beside Helen, but her eyes followed Yong. Then she noticed him speaking with a girl—the same one she’d seen at the exhibition.

— Helen… who’s that? His girlfriend?

— Yeah. That’s Diana.

— Really? I saw her at the gallery.

— I’ve heard their relationship isn’t going well.

— Because of that painting I ruined?

— No, no. There’s another reason.

Relief washed over Mary, a weight lifting from her chest.

The following day at work, Mary sat beside Deniz. But lately, Deniz had been wrapped in secrets. Mary finally dragged her out to a café, where Ava joined them. Together, like two interrogators, they pinned Deniz down.

— Spill it! — Mary demanded.

— I… met someone. — Deniz admitted shyly.

Ava’s questions came like bullets, one after another. Flustered, Deniz finally confessed:

— He’s the son of the university president. And now he works at the same holding company…

Mary and Ava froze in disbelief. Deniz hurried on.

— I swear, he’s the one who liked me first!

The girls burst into laughter, and Deniz joined them, her smile triumphant. Yet Mary’s mind drifted elsewhere—back to the studio, caught between Nicholas’s sharp eyes and Yong’s heavy silence.

That night, lying in bed, Mary stared at the ceiling. Painting isn’t just a hobby anymore, she thought. It’s beginning to change my fate.

Days slipped by, and Mary grew closer to her classmates. One evening, Helen invited her to a café where more friends had gathered. The conversations circled around Diana and Yong, their university days, and old stories. That was when Mary learned the truth: Nicholas, Yong, Helen, and Diana had known each other for years. Half the gallery even belonged to Nicholas.

The revelation left her stunned. So everything is much more complicated than I thought…

That weekend, Mary stepped into the workshop. The first person she saw was Nicholas. Before she could say anything, a mocking voice rang out from the corner:

— She’s not even here yet, and already she’s flirting!

The words pierced Mary’s chest like an arrow. Her smile froze. Forcing a polite nod at Nicholas, she turned away, walking to the far end of the room. Her hands trembled as she reached for her brushes, but she hid it behind a façade of calm.

Inside, a whisper rose:

Among all these colors and secrets… where do I stand on this canvas?