Chapter 6 – Journey into Colors
1500 Words
Mary carried a heaviness in her chest throughout the workshop. Since morning, the careless words she had overheard still echoed in her mind, sharp and intrusive like a thorn lodged under her skin. Every time her eyes wandered to Nicholas, she instantly turned away, refusing to give him a chance to read her expression. Even when he walked closer to check her canvas, she answered with cold indifference, leaving Nicholas no choice but to step back in silence.
By noon, her brush froze mid–stroke. The unfinished line trembled on the canvas as she whispered under her breath:
“Why am I giving so much power to that girl’s words? I’m here to chase my own dream… not to crumble beneath their shallow judgments.”
The air smelled of turpentine and acrylics, the hall buzzing with chatter, laughter, and the occasional scrape of easels against the floor. When Mary spotted one of Helen’s friends—the same girl she had seen at the café—a smile tugged at her lips. She walked over.
“Hi!” Mary greeted warmly.
“Mary! I didn’t even notice you. When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here a while… just finishing my piece.”
“You must’ve been focused for hours.”
Mary chuckled softly. “Yeah. By the way, Helen didn’t show up? I remember she mentioned in the café she might skip today.”
The girl hesitated, then forced a smile. “She’s not here. Usually, if Nicholas is around, Helen stays back… I mean—they handle gallery stuff separately. When one’s here, the other isn’t. That’s all.”
Mary nodded, but doubt stirred inside her. Something was being hidden. She decided not to press further. Her gaze wandered.
“Yong isn’t here either. You should’ve seen his paintings last week—brilliant. I just hope one day I can paint with the same depth as him… or Nicholas, or even Helen.”
“They really are something,” the girl agreed. “Especially Nicholas today. His canvas feels different… powerful.”
Mary’s stomach twisted. “Really? What did he paint?”
“You haven’t seen it yet? You should. It’s breathtaking.”
Mary shook her head quickly. “Maybe later. I need to finish my own work first.”
When her painting was done, she brought it to the instructor. He studied the strokes for a moment and then smiled.
“You’re improving. Your growth is obvious.”
Mary’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you, sir.”
“By the way,” he added, “we’re having a nature sketching trip on Tuesday. I think it’ll be a valuable experience. Are you joining us?”
Mary hesitated. “If I can get leave from work… I’d love to.”
The following day in the office, stacks of reports blurred before her eyes. Her phone buzzed. Helen.
“Mary! I’ve got good news. Tomorrow is the trip—you have to come.”
“I know… the professor mentioned it. But I haven’t asked for leave yet.”
“Then go ask now. You’ll regret missing it.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t leave me waiting, okay?”
As the call ended, Mary stared blankly at her monitor. The thought of asking Connor for leave tied her stomach in knots. Deniz noticed her unease and leaned over.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing much… just a trip tomorrow with my art class. But there’s too much work.”
“A trip? Are the guys coming too?”
“Yes. Why?”
Deniz rolled her eyes. “You’re crazy. You avoid men like the plague at work, at least meet someone decent outside.”
“Deniz, stop…”
“Nope. Enough. I’ll handle this.”
Before Mary could stop her, Deniz marched straight into Connor’s office. Minutes later, he called Mary in.
“Mary, Deniz told me you’ve got plans tomorrow. Go ahead and take leave.”
“But sir, the projects—”
“Work will always be here. Opportunities like this won’t. Don’t waste it.”
Mary froze, caught between gratitude and embarrassment. When she returned, Deniz grinned like a mischievous cat.
“You’re welcome. Pack your things—you’re going.”
The next morning, Mary stepped onto the school grounds with a bag slung over her shoulder. Two buses were lined up, buzzing with students’ laughter. Helen waved from one.
“Mary! Over here!”
Mary smiled and boarded, sliding into the seat beside her. Moments later, Yong entered and asked politely:
Mind if I take it?”
“Of course not,” Mary answered.
The bus was nearly full when Nicholas appeared, breathless.
“Sorry, Professor—I’m late.”
The instructor frowned. “This bus is full. Join the other one.”
But Nicholas’s eyes darted to Mary, reluctant to leave. He turned to Michel.
“Hey, would you mind switching buses?”
Michel hesitated, then agreed. Nicholas quickly made his way down the aisle, aiming for the seat beside Mary. But Helen tugged Mary’s hand, pulling her close.
“Better for the girls to sit together. You two—Nicholas and Yong—take that side.”
Mary quickly nodded in agreement. Nicholas muttered under his breath as he sat next to Yong.
“Should’ve just taken the other bus.”
Yong smirked. “Who has the patience to sit beside you anyway?”
“What did you just say?!”
“Both of you quiet,” the professor called out. “We’re leaving.”
Cheers erupted as the bus rolled forward, music blasting through speakers. Wind rushed through the open windows, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Laughter, chatter, and camera clicks filled the air.
Nicholas stole glances at Mary, frustration tightening his jaw. Leaning closer to Yong, he whispered, “Why do you always hog the window seat? Let me have it for once.”
Yong didn’t flinch. “Because outside is still prettier than looking at you.”
Nicholas scoffed. “Trust me, I’d rather look at trees than you. Speaking of—where’s Diana?”
Yong’s face darkened. “None of your business.”
After a moment, Nicholas muttered, “Listen… I need a favor.”
“We’re not friends,” Yong replied flatly.
“Just hear me out. Mary’s been avoiding me. I need to know why. Could you switch seats?”
Yong chuckled darkly. “So she’s finally figured you out? Impressive. I’m starting to like her.”
“Cut it out. Are you helping or not?”
“Does Helen know you’re chasing someone else already?”
Nicholas groaned. “You’re impossible.”
Yet after a moment’s pause, Yong rose slowly. But before Nicholas could breathe relief, Yong raised his voice.
“Mary! Nicholas wants to talk to you. Come switch seats.”
Nicholas nearly choked. “Yong, I swear—”
Mary hesitated, then reluctantly moved beside Nicholas. Her palms pressed together nervously.
Then softer, to Mary:
“I didn’t mean to upset you the other day.”
Mary shook her head. “I wasn’t upset. I just needed to focus on my work.”
“You take things too seriously. Art is supposed to be enjoyed.”
Yong leaned in mockingly. “Like he does?”
“Would you mind?” Nicholas hissed. “Mind your own business!”
“Sure thing… Professor.”
“I told you not to call me that!”
“Oops, sorry… dear Professor.”
Mary laughed suddenly, the tension melting from her shoulders. Nicholas’s lips curved into a smile.
“Has anyone told you how beautiful your laughter is?”
“No,” Mary admitted shyly. “You’re the first.”
“Then let me be the first of many.”
“Smooth,” Yong muttered, rolling his eyes. The bus erupted with laughter, their voices rising with the music.
When they reached the retreat center, the professor stood at the entrance.
“Listen up! You’ll get your room keys now. Boys will share in pairs, girls in threes. If you don’t like your roommates, find someone willing to swap. No arguments.”
Keys were passed out. Mary received Room 26. Helen rushed over.
“Michel and I are in 15. Want to switch and join us?”
“That’d be perfect,” Mary said gratefully.
But at that very moment, Nicholas unlocked a door only to freeze—inside, Yong was already unpacking.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nicholas muttered.
“You?!” Yong’s eyes widened. “No. Absolutely not.”
They stormed off to the professor, but he was nowhere in sight. Attempts to swap keys with others were met with shaking heads. No one dared intervene.
Defeated, they returned to their room. Two sets of eyes locked in silent battle. Finally, both dropped onto their beds with a frustrated thud.
The silence between them wasn’t calm. It was the silence before a storm.
- Writer
