The Art Club

"Why do you like it here? Passion for the arts?" "More like...a second home."

I can do this.

I sound so pitiful right now, talking to myself and giving myself these little pep talks. But it’s all I can do right now, to calm this raging storm inside me.

My palms are sweaty. My heart is beating rapidly, dangerously fast. My stomach contains not only butterflies, but every other species of flying, buzzing or flapping insect known to mankind - that’s how nervous I’m feeling right now.

I turn towards the crowd, where people are standing. Where everyone else is chatting, laughing, smiling.

Where she stands.

I look back down at my trembling hands. The cue cards are in my pocket. My letter to her is snugly secured inside an envelope in my hand.

I sigh deeply.

I’m a complete mess.

 

 

 

Her name is Elene.

She’s 19 this year, has two younger brothers. Just finished her college exams, interning as an artist for a local illustration company. She’s my senior by one year, both from the same school and same club.

And she’s all that I’ve been thinking of for the past…I’ve lost count. Has it been a year? Two?

Nah. It’s been ever since I met her.

I still remember that day vividly in my mind, even though it was barely during the start of my school life in my new school. Lost, confused and insecure, I gingerly opened the door of the club room on the third floor of the school compound.

I peeked my head inside. “Uh, hello? Anyone here?” I asked nervously.

The room was old; it had no lighting except for a window near the single work desk from which a beam of pure sunlight shone through, illuminating the entire room.

I slowly took a step into the room.

“No one’s here? Strange…”

Gently closing the door behind me, I turned back to face the interior of the room.

And that was when I saw her.

A girl with lush dark hair, and a gentle expression that warmed my shy, awkward heart as she focused on the task that was in front of her: a simple watercolour painting.

As cliché as it sounds, only one thought ran through my mind that moment.

She’s beautiful.

I had no idea how long I stood there for, just watching her painting. It was like the perfect picture - a flawless image of serenity and grace as she sat there.

Then, being the foolish klutz I was, I accidentally bumped into a nearby canvas, causing the old and splintered rack of wood to tumble to the floor.

C-Crap!

Immediately, slightly shocked, she looked up. Our eyes met, and I froze.

Is she going to scold me? Shout at me for disturbing her? Or get angry for disrupting her concentration?

After studying me for a few seconds, she did the one thing that I definitely did not expect at that time.

She smiled sweetly at me.

“Hey, you’re…Darren, right? The new member?” She asked.

The sunlight that shone through that lone window cast a brilliant array of brightness over her face and expression, complementing the brightness and life that was in her smile.

My mind went completely crazy. I didn’t know what to say; so many thoughts ran rampant in my head at that point. I just stood there, tongue-tied, dying of anxiety.

“What’s the matter?”

“I-uh, n-nothing! Yeah, I-I’m Darren!” I stuttered out nervously.

I’m making a complete fool of myself.

She stood up from her chair, walked over to me and stuck a hand out.

“Nice to meet you, Darren! I’m Elene, president of the Art Club!” She chirped happily.

Elene. That name rang in my head, and all I could think of was how such a beautiful name perfectly fit such a beautiful person.

I gently returned the handshake, and she grinned.

“Well, this isn’t really much of a club, I know. After the previous year of seniors graduated, this is all that’s left of the Art Club. A shabby room, a few mouldy canvases, an old, creaky desk…and little old me.”

“That’s more than enough for me.” I blurted out.

She raised her eyebrows, and I panicked.  Dang! Did she manage to catch what I said? I started waving my hands frantically in front of me, dismissing what I’d just said. “I-I mean, t-this room’s really nice, and all the stuff is good and-”

My random chain of babbling was cut short when she started giggling softly. From the way she laughed I knew that she wasn’t laughing at me or mocking me, but I hung my head down low, feeling a bit embarrassed from my sudden outburst.

Suddenly I felt a soft pat on my shoulder. I looked up, and Elene was smiling at me again.

“You’re funny.”

Though it was technically a nicer way of saying, “you’re weird”, the way she said it spread a sense of happiness and joy throughout my whole body. My face turned red even though I tried my hardest not to let it show.

“Hey, I meant it in a good way!” She laughed. “Anyways, welcome to the Art Club!” I looked back at her and smiled nervously.

She grinned cutely, and handed me the watercolour paintbrush that she was using minutes ago.

“I have a feeling this year’s gonna be a blast.” 

 

 

“Hey, Darren, could you hand me that palette over there?”

I stood up from the desk and walked over to a huge box. Labeled messily on the front of the box was the word “Stuff”, written shabbily on a piece of masking tape and stuck to it.

“You know, we really should clean this place up.” I noted.

Elene yawned. “Ah, why bother? No one’s gonna come in here anyway.”

I shot her an exasperated glance. “You know, you’re giving off a really cheap and lazy image of yourself right now.”

She winked at me, and I quickly turned back to face the box as my face turned red.

“Palette, palette…” I murmured to myself, trying to calm myself down. My fingers brushed against a cold piece of plastic, and I yanked the object out from inside the massive clutter of items.

“I found it!” I yelled happily. Though, on closer inspection, I noticed that the palette was gray in colour, with messy stains of blue, yellow and red streaked all over it.

“Elene.”

“Yeah?” She asked, eyes still fixated on the oil painting mounted on the canvas in front of her.

“How long has it actually been since you’ve gotten new equipment?”

“Uh..a year? Two? Ever since the past year’s members graduated I’ve never bothered cleaning this place up, and getting new stuff means spending money which means writing a proposal to the student council which means-“

“Lemme guess. Too much work for you?”

She turned away from the canvas to face me, and flashed a grin.

“Mhmm!”

 

 

 

“Y’know, I’ve always wondered. Why are you still in this club when no one else was in it? Doesn’t that kind of, you know, defeat the purpose of a club?”

It was getting somewhat late, and the sunlight that shone through that window on the wall had a reddish tint to it. It gave the room a warm, cozy kind of feel, which resulted in Elene and I sprawling out over the floor, looking at the ceiling and chatting.

She pursed her lips in thought. “I dunno. The typical answer would be a passion for art and drawing and stuff. But, I guess…this place feels like my second home.”

“Second home, huh?” I smiled as that image formed itself in my mind.

“Yeah. You know, like a place that I can come back to no matter what happens in life. Even if I’m having the crummiest day, even if everything seems to go wrong in the worst way possible, I can just come back here. And everything will be fine again.”

I glanced towards my right at the girl who was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling with a contented look on her face. The sunset bathed the entire room in an orange glow, and her calm features radiated that same warmth.

Unwittingly I found myself grinning as I relaxed and looked back towards the ceiling.

“I guess I kinda know what you mean.”

She turned her head to face me. “Hm?”

I looked at her, and as our eyes met we both smiled to each other.

“I love this place too.”

She giggled. “Passion for the arts?”

I grinned.

“More like…a second home.”

 

 

 

“Hey, Elene?”

“Hm?”

“What are your plans for the future? Y’know, after you graduate and whatnot?”

There was a pause as she mused over my question in silence, gazing into the starry night sky through the window.

Somehow, we’d both gotten carried away with painting and drawing and stayed till the sun set.

Then, a sigh.

“You sound just like my parents now, Darren. They’ve been asking me this question ever since the year started.” She said with a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that…” I mumbled in apology.

She smiled. “It’s alright. I suppose you’re curious as well; about what a bumbling fool that can only draw like me could possibly do with her life in the future.”

Hearing this, I felt compelled to answer, albeit with a stutter. “Y-You’re not a bumbling fool! I think you’re really good at drawing, and you’ve got a bright future and-“

She giggled, amused. “Thanks, Darren.”

I let out a sigh, breathless from my sudden outburst. “I think you have your whole life ahead of you, Elene.” I said, staring back up into the night sky.

“Really? I dunno. I’ve thought about pursuing art professionally. You know, becoming a professional artist. Or maybe something more practical, like an illustration or animation artist.”

I smiled. “You’d make a great artist, no matter what kind.”

She looked at me again. “What about you?”

I grinned sheepishly, leaning back onto the floor. “Same as every other first year student, I guess. Grit my teeth and get through all of the exams.”

“What about the Art Club?”

I paused.

“Y’know, what’s gonna happen after I graduate this year? You don’t have any fellow first year members, so are you gonna let the club close down? You’ll be the only member left after I leave.”

I don’t want you to leave.

I felt a lump in my throat. I wanted to tell her, about how I hated, despised, even feared the thought of being left alone. Of being left behind by her.

“Elene…I-“

“Woah, look! A shooting star!”

Startled by her sudden discovery, I quickly glanced back towards the window. Wanting to get a better view, Elene quickly shifted her position so that she was right next to me, and we both sat on the floor shoulder to shoulder, looking out of the window.

A silvery streak stretched across the ebony black of the night sky, casting a soft white glow on everything inside the room.

I felt a light weight on my shoulder. Turning slightly, I found Elene’s head, with her lush, dark hair propped on my shoulder.

“Comfortable.”

I felt my face turn red, as she held onto my shirt sleeve and shifted her weight onto my shoulder.

“You’re like a pillow, Darren. My own personal pillow.” She giggled softly.

“A pillow?”

“Yeah. Specially for me, and no one else. Not even your future girlfriend, okay?”

I nodded, and she laughed.

“Hey, Darren. You know the tales about shooting stars, right? Make a wish!”

“Y’know, what’s gonna happen after I graduate this year? You don’t have any fellow first year members, so are you gonna let the club close down? You’ll be the only member left after I leave.”

I sighed.

I wish you’d stay with the Art Club.

With me.

 

 

 

“Argh! Darren, help me with this, it’s really heavy-“

“Here, I’ll take it- holy mother of-“

“Ahh. That’s a load off of my scrawny little painter arms. Thanks, Darren! Just place the box in that corner over there.”

Struggling to even keep a proper grip on the flimsy cardboard box, which by the way felt as if it had been loaded to the brim with rocks, I dragged myself over to the one remaining corner which wasn’t already cluttered.

As I plopped the box onto the ground with a thud, I wiped a drop of sweat from my forehead and turned around.

Elene stood there with a look that was a mix of both awe and exasperation.

“I still can’t believe you wrote a proposal, talked with the student council and even did a presentation to the principal…just for a new box of brushes, palettes and paint.”

“What can I say?” I grinned. “It’s just…a passion for the arts.”

She smacked me playfully on the head. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Probably not.” I said, smirking.

 

 

 

It was about halfway through the year. I was just sitting in the art room, doodling with my sketchbook and experimenting new styles of drawing.

Strange, I thought to myself. Elene would usually be here by now, whipping up a new pastel masterpiece on the canvas.

Then, among the silence and tranquility of the room, my ears picked up an incessant buzzing sound in the distance. 

As it grew stronger and louder, I was able to tell what it was.

Voices.

Yes, not just one voice. Not just the voice of Elene, mumbling to herself about what she was going to draw today in the art room. It was distinctly, as the voices drew nearer, the voices of a girl and a boy.

Together.

My heartbeat started to race slightly. There’s no way, right? As the door to the club room creaked open and a foot stepped into the room, I froze.

And in walked Elene. With one arm wrapped around the arm of the boy standing next to her.

As they both entered the room, chatting and laughing. My heart raced even faster. Though I already knew the answer to my question, I still kept asking it to myself.

Who is he?

Elene looked at me and grinned. I could see it, as much as I hated to admit it; a look of pure bliss and joy radiated from her face.

“Darren, this is Jake.”

I gritted my teeth. There’s no way, right? No way.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

And with those three words, it felt as if Elene had shattered every bone in my body, burnt every cell under my skin.

I had no idea how to describe this emotion, this feeling. Was it sadness? Loneliness? Sorrow? No. It was more like…

Agony.

I had no idea what to do now. It felt as though I was being torn in half; though there’s always that clichéd thing about “feeling happy for someone else” when they find someone they love, I couldn’t help but feel…

Agony.

I forced a smile, and shook the firm hand that had been extended towards me.

“Jake, this is Darren. He’s my junior by a year, and one of my best friends. He’s probably what’s been keeping the Art Club alive and breathing for so long.”

Jake grinned, flashing his pearly whites. “Nice to meet you, Darren. I’m Jake!”

Yeah, sure as hell wasn’t nice meeting you.

“Nice to meet you too.”

 

 

 

Ever since that day, Elene began spending less and less time in the art room. Initially, I assume because she was feeling sorry for me, she would text me once every few days, apologizing for not being able to drop by the club room because she had a movie to catch or a meal to eat - with Jake, of course. But this ended pretty quickly.

It reached a point where I would just lie listlessly on the club room floor, staring up onto the ceiling.

The ceiling that Elene and I once shared.

I realized I began to miss her voice. I began to miss talking with her, hearing her laugh, listening to her troubles in her final year of college and how all of her homework was piling up and giving her less time to draw and paint.

I began to miss her touch. I missed the times she would hit me on the head whenever I mocked her or made a joke. The times she would lean on my shoulder, calling it her “personal pillow”, and making me promise that no one else, not even my future girlfriend, could use that shoulder.

I began to miss her smell. As weird as this sounds, she always had this…fragrance around her. It wasn’t anything crazily sweet like honey and vanilla ice cream or anything like that, but it made me feel warm. It was like a mix of everything she loved: paints and brushes, the scent of her favourite flower, the rose, and the delicious smell of her favourite food: waffles.

I missed her. I missed everything about her. And I guess that was when I realized something else as well.

I loved her.

 

 

Then came the onslaught of the final exams - well, for the first year students, at least. The second year students had a study break, which meant I didn’t even get to see Elene in school anymore.

Despite that, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was driving me crazy - images of her smiling, laughing, talking; they all flashed in my head whenever I visited the art room.

I dreamt of her almost every other night. Be it a sweet dream or a nightmare, she would inevitably make an appearance - either as my future girlfriend and wife, or as a fearsome monster who would devour me and destroy me.

Though the art room was where all of my fondest memories of Elene remained, and where I longed for her presence the most, it still remained one of the few places where I felt comfortable.

Like…a second home.

 

 

 

Then, one evening, when I was finally relaxing inside the art room after the conclusion of my final Mathematics paper (which, by the way, was hell for two hours), scribbling randomly on a spare sheet of paper, the door slowly creaked open.

Wait, what?

It’s been so long since the club room door’s been opened by someone other than me. I hadn’t seen Elene for so long, even my dreams and thoughts of her started to lose their form and semblance.

And yet, lo and behold, she stepped right through the door into my vision.

I swear, I thought I was hallucinating. That my longing to see Elene had finally cumulated into an actual hallucination of her.

I blinked. She still stood there.

I blinked again. There she was.

But before I could blink a third time…

“Darren.”

She called out to me. Slowly, I got up from that creaky old chair and stood facing her.

“Darren.”

The gentle glow of the evening moonlight allowed me to see her face clearly, and I knew then that she wasn’t a hallucination. She was real. And she was standing there, calling my name.

“Darren.”

A glistening tear formed in her eye.

“Darren!”

She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I stood there limply, stunned for a few seconds. She buried her head into my chest, and I could feel moisture on my shirt.

Tears.

“Elene? What’s the matter?”

Though not a word was spoken, from the way she tightened her arms around me and sobbed softly into my shirt, I knew the answer.

I brushed a hand through her hair.

“It’s alright, Elene. No matter what happens, even if everything goes wrong in the worst way possible, you can always come back here. Remember? I’ll always be here for you.”

She sniffed and looked up towards me.

“R-Really?”

“Of course.” I grinned, and wiped a tear from her eye.

“This is your second home.”

 

 

 

“Argh! I don’t get any of this at all!” Elene growled in frustration, throwing her calculus notes all over the floor.

I sighed.

“Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to make your math paper tomorrow disappear, you know.” I noted.

She sent me a glare that clearly said, ‘shut up or I will gut you.’ And being someone who appreciates life and would like to live a little longer, I kept quiet and started to pick the notes up from the floor.

“I don’t understand why exams have to be this hard. Can’t I just draw a hundred paintings and get one mark for each one?”

I picked up the last of the pages from the floor and stacked them nicely. “Sadly college doesn’t work that way.”

She let out a deep sigh, and ruffled her hands through her hair in frustration. I set the stack of notes back onto her desk, and then plopped back down onto the floor comfortably.

“Why do they have to force brilliant artistic minds like mine to stoop so low as to dabble with stupid numbers and symbols? It seems so…dull and elementary.”

“And yet a brilliant mind like yours is going crazy over not being able to understand something so elementary.” I said with a smirk.

A palette streaked across the room and flew straight at me, hitting me squarely in the face.

“Shut up!”

 

 

 

“I-I’m not good with people.”

“Aw, come on!” She whined, tugging on my shirtsleeve. “It’ll be fun - I promise!”

“I won’t even fit in! It’s a party to celebrate the end of your national college exams! I’m just a first year - I’m not gonna fit in!” I protested with all of my might.

“But, but, there’ll be pretty girls there! You wanna meet new pretty girls, right? I know all guys do!” She pouted, trying in vain to convince me to come to the party.

But I don’t care about other girls.

“I’m really, really not good with people. Don’t make me suffer in silence, Elene. Please?” I put on my best puppy-dog eyes, attempting to guilt her into ending her assault.

“Why are you so shy? You’re coming, and that’s final.” She whipped out her handphone and started texting furiously.

My jaw dropped. “J-Just like that? Wait, I’m not-“

“Sent. Now if you back out there’s a penalty fee.” She said with a sweet smile.

I froze. “No…way.”

“Yes way. Come on, I’m doing you a favour. How are you ever going to meet the girl of your dreams if you keep on being so shy and unwilling to meet new people?” She said, grinning.

“But I don’t need to.”

I’ve already met her. She’s standing right in front of me right now.

 

 

 

I had it all planned out.

I was going to ask her out on the night of the party. How? When? What if there’s people around? What if others hear me asking her out?

I shut all of these questions out of my mind. I wasn’t going to let anything dissuade me anymore.

I made the best preparations that a young, 18 year old boy with few friends and no actual experience in dating could do. I went online, searching for how to ask a girl out properly.

I got cue cards with witty lines and stuff ready, so that I wouldn’t be left tongue-tied and unable to speak once I saw her.

I even had a letter specially written, decorated and sealed just in case I wasn’t able to convey all of my feelings properly.

On the day of the party, just before leaving my house, I checked everything. My attire, my body scent, my breath, my hair. Cue cards? Check. Letter? Check.

Gripping the door handle so tightly I thought it was going to break, I turned the knob and left the house.

Somehow, I feel like this isn’t gonna end well.

 

 

 

I can do this.

I sound so pitiful right now, talking to myself and giving myself these little pep talks. But it’s all I can do right now, to calm this raging storm inside me.

My palms are sweaty. My heart is beating rapidly, dangerously fast. My stomach contains not only butterflies, but every other species of flying, buzzing or flapping insect known to mankind - that’s how nervous I’m feeling right now.

I turn towards the crowd, where people are standing. Where everyone else is chatting, laughing, smiling.

Where she stands.

I look back down at my trembling hands. The cue cards are in my pocket. My letter to her is snugly secured inside an envelope in my hand.

I sigh deeply.

I’m a complete mess.

I slowly walk, with nervous, jumpy steps, over to Elene. She’s chatting happily with her good friend about some Korean concert that they want to watch.

“H-Hey, Elene!” I called out, mustering every ounce of courage within my body and soul to do so.

She turned to face me. The moment she did, I was blown away by the full force of her beauty.

Her makeup seemed to complement that natural glow that her face usually had - and yet it wasn’t overdone or anything that would give off a cheap, skimpy feel. It reminded me of the days where the sunlight washed over her face and radiated off her skin.

Except this time, with the makeup, it was more like a rainbow shined over her features, creating a perfect image of beauty.

“Hey, Darren! Enjoying yourself?”

“Y-yeah! It’s really fun! Hey, listen, d’you mind giving me a minute? I wanted to talk to you about the Art Club and stuff.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Art Club? Why so random-“

Her friend next to her cut her sentence off. “Just go with him, Elene. I’ll be fine.” She slyly winked at me as well while Elene wasn’t looking.

Still slightly confused, Elene nodded and followed me to a quieter corner.

“What’s up, Darren?”

Still wrecked with anxiety, I quickly pulled out the cue cards and started trying to read them while maintaining some form of eye contact with Elene.

“H-Hey, Elene, is your dad a thief?”

“Huh?”

“Y-y’know, because he, uh, stole the stars from the sky and put them into your…”

Crap! Where’s the other cue card?

“…fine print?”

Elene frowned. “Are you okay, Darren? You seem a little-“

“Wait, wait, I got this!” I mumbled to myself in panic, flipping through the cue cards one by one. Being the klutz that I am, all of the cue cards ended up on the floor.

“A-Ah, crap!” I blurted, and quickly crouched down and picked them up. As I did so, the sealed envelope fell out of my pocket and onto the floor as well.

The bright pink envelope, along with the large words “To Elene” scrawled in silvery cursive, caught her attention. Before I could react, she bent down and nimbly picked the letter up.

“W-Wait, that’s-“

She opened the envelope, and I froze in fear as she began scanning the letter.

I expected her to burst out in laughter over my lame attempts to ask her out, or over the corniness and cheesiness that was contained in my letter. But instead, she did something completely unexpected.

She smiled sweetly.

“…and I just wanted to ask you. Will you go out with me, Elene?” She read out slowly.

“Ah, crap.” I muttered under my breath, standing up slowly. I didn’t dare to face her out of embarrassment, both at myself and at the situation I was in.

Suddenly I felt a soft pat on my shoulder. I didn’t want to look up, to look her in the face and listen to any ridicule or mockery that she might have for a sad, misled boy like me.

“You’re funny.”

This is it. She’s gonna laugh at me for even thinking about asking her out, and for even thinking that I had a chance with her and everything and-

But then I felt fingers on my chin, pushing up gently and lifting my head.

I found myself staring into her eyes. Her warm, loving eyes, and a smile that said everything I needed and wanted to hear.

She leaned forward, and kissed me softly.

“I mean that in a good way.”