Chapter Text
I went into the café Atelier, my favourite coffee place in the neighbourhood. The place was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the chatter of people. I admit, I was lost in my own world, contemplating the upcoming school year and my dreams of studying Music and Instrumental Studies. I felt a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Would I be able to stand out in a field where uniqueness and originality were valued?
As I approached the counter to order, Jann, the friendly barista, greeted me with a welcoming expression. "Hey, Silvia! How's it going today? What can I get you?"
"Hey, Jann! Good to see you! I'm good, thanks. I'll have a caramel frappuccino, please."
"You got it! Excellent choice. Caramel frappuccino coming right up. Anything else?"
"No, that's all for now, thanks."
As Jann skillfully prepared the frappuccino, he asked: "So, Silvia, how's your summer been? Getting ready for the new school year?"
"Yeah, it's been pretty good. I'm actually really excited about starting my Music and Instrumental Studies at The College of Arts on Monday."
"That's fantastic! I knew you had a passion for music but I thought you’d choose something connected with writing. Anyways, I'm sure you'll do great in any artistic field. Don't forget to visit us here whenever you need a caffeine boost or some creative inspiration."
"Thanks, Jann. I appreciate it. I'll definitely be a regular here. You make the best drinks, and this place has such a cozy inclusive vibe."
"Aw, thanks, darling. It's always a pleasure having you around. And you know what? We should totally be writing buddies. I'm a writer too, and it would be great to exchange ideas and support each other."
My face lit up with a grateful smile as I got my drink from Jann.
"That means a lot, Jann. I'd love to have a writing buddy. Thanks for being so supportive. See you around!"
"Absolutely! Looking forward to it. Enjoy your drink, and good luck with your studies. You're going to ace it!"
I waved goodbye to Jann, feeling a warm sense of friendship and support from the young barista. With my drink in hand, I settled into a nearby table, feeling fortunate to have found a perfect place for my creative writing.
Deep in thought, I spilled my drink, so I made my way towards the counter for some napkins, but in the midst of my musings, my foot caught on the leg of a chair, and before I knew it, I stumbled and fell to the ground. Mortified and a little embarrassed, I quickly tried to gather myself from the floor. To my surprise, a boy sitting at a nearby table reached out his hand to help me up. I grabbed his hand and as I looked up. I noticed his glasses framing his brown eyes and long dark hair cascading down his shoulders. He smirked and said: “Watch your steps, girl!”
“What a rube”, I thought, feeling my face turning red, and I muttered under my breath “Being kind costs literally nothing.”
“Excuse me?”, he said, and leaned closer. I glanced up, I swear, the guy had a smug smirk on his stupid hipster face. Just then, Jann called: “Silvia! Are you alright?” Grateful for the interruption, I hurriedly stood up, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. “I’m good, I’m good”. I collected myself, grabbed the napkins, and settled back into my seat, avoiding eye contact with the snarky four-eyes.
With my thoughts still buzzing, I pulled out my notebook. Creative writing was my escape, my way of letting my imagination run wild. I began jotting down ideas for stories, letting the words flow onto the paper. The café became my sanctuary, a place where I could let my thoughts take flight.
As I was drafting, I couldn't help but wonder about the boy who had helped me earlier. What was his story? And did his snarky comment hide a kinder side? Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye. With a sense of curiosity, I pondered the possibilities, the beginning of a new chapter in a new story about to unfold.
Time flew by unnoticed, I had a complete draft for my new story in front of me, just a few details in need of being polished. I looked around, but the boy had already left, no trace of him. Good. And so, I closed my notebook with a smile, ready to embrace the adventures that awaited me during my studies at The College of Arts.
The next Monday I entered the bustling hallway of The College of Arts, a mix of nerves and anticipation fluttering in my stomach. As I made my way through the crowd, I noticed three girls standing together, talking and laughing. “Okay girl, it’s now or never. You can do it” I pep-talked myself and mustered up the courage to approach them.
"Hey, I'm Silvia. I'm starting Music and Instrumental Studies here. Mind if I join you?"
Mia, Zoe, and Ava turned to face her with welcoming smiles, their eyes lighting up with curiosity.
The girl with red hair broke the silence: "Of course! We'd love to have you. I'm Mia. Nice to meet you, Silvia."
"I'm Ava. It's great to have another creative spirit among us."
“I'm Zoe. Welcome to the world of artistic souls."
I was sensing an instant connection with these girls, a sense of ease.
"Thanks for the warm welcome, guys. I'm excited to be here. So, what are you all studying?"
Mia was the first to response. It was clear that she loves to be in the centre of attention. "I'm pursuing Visual Arts. I love exploring different mediums and expressing myself through colours and textures. Also, I play guitar."
Zoe followed: "I'm in the Theatre program. Acting and storytelling have always fascinated me, and I'm thrilled to dive deeper into the craft and The Method."
Ava, the shortest, and the shiest of them, spoke as the last: "I'm studying Creative Writing. Words have a way of painting vivid pictures, and I love weaving stories that touch people's hearts."
"Wow, that was my second choice", I exlaimed. "But I ended up on Music and Instrumental Studies.”
“So, we’ll sure have some classes together! What instrument do you play?” asked Mia.
“Piano. You all have such amazing passions. I can't wait to see your creations and collaborate on artistic projects together."
I continued chatting with Mia, Zoe, and Ava continued chatting, when two boys approached us.
"Hey, mind if we join the party? I couldn't help but overhear the artistic vibes here.", said a blond boy with curly hair falling over his blue eyes.
The other one, darkhaired: "Yeah, we couldn't resist the magnetic pull of creativity. I'm Ethan, and this here is my partner in crime, Liam."
"Hi, I'm Mia, and these are my friends: Silvia, Zoe, and Ava." Mia acted like she was the leader of the group.
"Nice to meet you both. So, Ethan, you're in the Theatre program?" asked Zoe.
“How do you know? Are you a kind of witch, telling future or something?” Ethan stared at Zoe with big eyes.
“It is written on the papers you are holding”, she replied and we all burst out laughing.
Ava turned to Liam: “And you? Theatre kid as well?”
“No, I’m in Creative Writing."
“So am I!”
“Do you want to talk about storytelling or maybe write something together… over a drink?”, Liam wasn’t wasting his time. Ava had caught his eye immediately and he didn’t want Ethan to ask her out first.
"Sure! I’d love to share ideas and create something extraordinary together.", Ava blushed.
"I don’t want to interrupt you, lovebirds”, I said “but we are having the first lecture in Art’s History. It's going to be probably sooo boring, but we don’t want to skip the lectures on the first day. Are you going with us?”
"Yes. We can’t wait to listen other people talking hours about art.” said Ethan sarcastically. “We are artist. We want to MAKE art, not to listen about ancient theories.”
As the fledgling students settled into the lecture hall, the professor, an esteemed figure with a passion for the subject, wrote his name, PROF. ANDRE PALMER, on a chalkboard, and stepped forward to address the class. His voice carried a warmth and depth, captivating the room with every word.
"Welcome, dear students, to the captivating world of art history," the professor began, his eyes shining with excitement. "In this course, we will explore the intricate threads that connect civilizations, cultures, and artists throughout time. From the awe-inspiring wonders of ancient civilizations to the bold movements that challenged the norms of their era, we will delve into the stories and significance behind the masterpieces that have shaped humanity's creative expression."
The professor's words ignited a spark within the students. They sat still, not knowing what to expect from this white-haired man in an orange suit. They could sense the professor's genuine love for the subject, and it resonated with their own passion for art.
"As we journey through the centuries, we will unravel the mysteries behind iconic works, understand the context in which they were created, and appreciate the artists' vision and their impact on society. Art has the power to transcend time, to inspire, to challenge, and to provoke thought. It is a universal language that connects us all," the professor continued, his voice filled with reverence. With each passing moment, the students grew more captivated, ready to immerse themselves in the stories of the artists and the transformative power of art throughout history.
"As we navigate this course together, I encourage you to not only observe but to engage with the art, to question, to analyze, and to discover the profound meaning hidden within brushstrokes, sculptures, and architectural wonders. Let us embark on this enlightening journey, where the past will illuminate our present and shape our future," the professor concluded.
“But first, let’s find an answer to the fundamental question: Why do we need arts?”, the professor looked around, looking for the answer on the faces of the students. The room fell silent.
“So we don’t die from reality” answered a boy with a full head of hair. He was sitting in the front row, so I couldn’t see his face but his voice rang a bell.
“Good remark, Mr. …?” the professor paused, waiting for the student to introduce himself.
“Theodor Andrei.”
“Mr. Andrei, basically your answer is right, but Pablo Picasso phrased that in a slightly more beautiful manner: Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life” added the professor.
“I guess we’ve got a new teacher’s pet”, whispered Ethan, sitting two rows behind. Theodor must have heard him, because he turned his head to the side, and then I noticed his profile, his glasses…
Oh no.
It was the boy from the Atelier café.