"The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without the work."— Emile Zola



I woke up a half hour earlier than I usually did this morning to eat breakfast. I was having scrambled eggs and raspberry pancakes with strawberries on the side and a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice to start out my day, but of course, I needed to make everything first. I opened the cupboard next to the fridge and took out the new box of pancake mix and set it off to the side on the counter. Eggs were the easiest to make so I decided to start with that. I removed the carton of eggs from the refrigerator and took out two of them and then cracked them open in a bowl. I got a pot ready on the stove and put the yoke in there to cook for several minutes when yesterday's evening with Harry crossed my mind.


I couldn't help but wonder if he actually called that girl. Candice I think her name was. He probably did. Nothing was stopping him. She looks like a Victoria Secret model. I'd call her if I was him. Why do I even care whether or not he did? It's none of my business.


I pushed those thoughts out of my head and turned the burner off, scraping the eggs on to my plate. Now for the pancakes...I tore open the side of the box on the dotted line and poured some of the mix into a large container before adding ½ a cup of Soy milk. I grabbed one of those big spoons from the dishwasher and began stirring the pancake batter.

---

♢Harry’s POV♢


"Holy shit..." I cursed.


When Candice finished zipping up my pants, I offered my hand to help her up from the floor with a smirk. She blushed as she took it and nervously bit down on her lip.


"Harry, you taste amazing," She whispered.

"Thanks, love." I grinned while buttoning my pants, "Maybe someday I'll return the favor."

"So you'll call me?" Candice smiled hopefully, walking toward the door.

"Definitely," I assured her, chewing my bottom lip as I watched her leave. She's got a nice bum.

As soon as the door closed, I locked it with the chain in a light chuckle. I walked away from the door feeling a bit smug and strolled down the hallway until I reached the washroom. I needed a shower.

-

I threw on a fresh pair of grey joggers after my wash before putting on my sneakers, thinking I'd go for a run. I stopped at the fridge to grab a bottle of Poland Springs before heading out the door.

---

I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Mr. Rivera, before we get started, I just wanted to say I'm a huge fan of your work," I gushed.

"Why thank you, Laura. Its been a long time since I've met a fan," He smiled. My name is Lucy. "But now for your first task. I want you to sit on that bench, close your eyes, and sketch everything you see."

"But it's impossible to draw anything well with your eyes closed," I said while sitting down on the bench.

"Impossible? There's no such thing. That word is not in my vocabulary. Just trust your hands and use your imagination," He replied.

"Alright." I sighed, "What will you be doing?"

"Some stuff inside the school. Meet me inside room 503 when you like what you've done," Mr. Rivera told me before taking off.


I huffed as I reached inside my bag and pulled out my sketch diary before flipping to a clean page. I slowly closed my eyes and clutched the pencil tightly in my hand, hoping to visualize something drawable, but I saw absolutely nothing. How can he expect me to draw properly without opening my eyes? Maybe some music will help me focus. I opened my eyes to put earbuds inside my ear and to set my playlist on shuffle mode before shutting them again. The first song to fill my ears was "Lights" by Ellie Goulding, and it inspired me to draw what I hoped turned out to be shining stars. I drew whatever came to mind when a new song started playing and within an hour's time, my page was decorated with lights, diamonds, price tags, pills n' potions, etc.


It wasn't necessarily my favorite drawing, but I didn't feel like starting over again so I decided I was going to show it to Mr. Rivera. I set my sketchbook beside me on the bench as I wrapped my earphones around my iPod and put it into my bag. I got up from the bench and reached for my book but felt the emptiness of the seat instead. Oh no. I quickly knelt down onto the grass to look under the bench to see if it fell, but it wasn't there. That book was my life. What am I going to do?


"Looking for something, love?" A familiar voice echoed behind me.

Notes

Sorry if this is a short, shitty chapter. I'm feeling a bit under the weather, but I wanted to update for those who like reading this story. :/

Can any of you guess who the mystery voice is? Hint: Its a character you haven't seen recently.