The soft light of dawn lingered through the window, casting long shadows across the room. Marco leaned over his cluttered table, his pencil scribbling softly against the thick paper of his worn sketchbook. The drawing wasn’t real, but each stroke of his hand gave it life. The image gleamed in his mind, incomplete but vivid. The world around him felt silent, as if time slowed down as he sketched, trying to capture a fleeting moment of peace. After he drew the last line, he opened his wallet to reveal a picture of his mother.
“Damn it…” he whispered softly, his voice struggling to keep steady.
He leaned steadily onto the table, his elbows setting into the surface as his fingers harshly rubbed his face. His palms pressed against his eyes, as if trying to block out the world for just a moment. A deep sigh escaped him, his shoulders sagging under the invisible weight. His hand briefly ruffled his hair, leaving it messier than before, before falling limply to the table.
“You can do it.” He muttered to himself as he put on his uniform, then his jacket.
A couple of aimless minutes of walking, footsteps clattering around and an ambience of inaudible chattering. Before him stood the towering gate of Mesolair National University, the natural sunlight reflecting against the large buildings; its name was boldly written on the grand sign written above the entrance, with a welcoming banner that read,
"Your dream begins here!"
For many, this sign gave people a proud smirk, its smooth golden contours inspire them to keep going. But for Marco, it only served as a painful reminder.
“Stupid dreams..” Marco mumbled, letting out a short huff, his bleary eyes rolling as he observed the campus.
This was not just a school. It was his mother's dream for him, to whom she worked so hard for. She saved every coin she could, sacrificing her comforts just to send money for his future here. Her voice softly reverberated in his head, all faithful.
You'll do great here, Marco. This school will open for you a better life. You'll see.
But it was just a voice, and that dream suffocated from the weight. Yet, here he was, poised at the gate, his feet frozen on the ground. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes softly.
“Get through it." he muttered to himself, and stepped inside.
The courtyard is filled with students; the laughter and chatter echoed through the air. Groups of friends reunite for stories of summer escapades. Though Marco was a ghost drifting through them, unnoticed and detached. Each step into the school campus ground now felt heavier than the last. The halls and corridors, the stretch of buildings, the pieces of manicured gardens, and the halls of shining marble seemed like a complete contrast to the storm raging within him.
His mom's dreams had brought him here, but now, Marco wondered whether he really belonged in a place that demanded so much from a person who felt like he had nothing to give. After what felt like an hour to him, he stepped into the classroom. The walls seem to be newly painted, the floor clean, and the tables thoroughly sanitized.
He slumped into the chair, letting his shoulders fall, staring at the scuffed desk in front of him. His fingers started picking at the edge of the table as he avoided all the inaudible chatter buzzing around the room. Laughter and whispers felt distant, as if it was from some other world that he had no right to be part of. He would catch himself looking at his nigh empty wallet, which was open in his backpack, peeking out a creased photo of his mother, her smile as bright as the day it was taken. Marco looked away, his chest tightening as if his stomach turned and he rubbed the nape of his neck as if someone might be watching him.
Unexpectedly, the students scramble back to their seats, their movements frantic as the constant clacking of heels crescendo. The door creaked open, revealing the teacher’s low-slung black hair and innocent grin that didn’t quite match the tension. Still, there were faint murmurs filling the air.
“I’d like everyone to introduce themselves,” she said, her voice cutting through the periodic mumbling. “Let’s start from the fro-”
The back door bursts open, and the student stumbles inside, her uniform clinging to her, damp with sweat. “Hey… I’m sorry… for being late…” she panted, her words broken by shallow breaths.
“It’s no problem. We were just about to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first to kick things off?” the teacher said, smiling warmly.
“Oh um..” Arlene stutters, the color of her cheeks turning a bit pink. “My name is Arlene, and that’s pretty much it…”
“That’s it? Tell us more about your hobbies!” the teacher nudges her into speaking.
“Well… I like reading, and writing…" She rubs her nape, looking slightly down and her arms hiding her face from the crowd. “And yeah…”
"Interesting! Let’s keep it coming, everyone! Take a seat, Arlene." she called out, her voice ringing with enthusiasm, louder than usual. Her look flicked between the attendance sheet and the students, scanning the room as she continued calling names.
Arlene searched the classroom for a place to sit, only to find chairs taken on every side-by-side set but the one next to Marco, just near the concrete wall. Without hesitation, she slid in the space, although the sounds of murmur and pointed glare directed into Marco's space as if he did something wrong with his mere existence. A few of them leaned in close to whisper darkly to their neighbors, while others threw quick darting glances his way. In spite of the different things they did, one thing bound them together: that same damn smirk curling at their lips.
“Man.. I should’ve been in that guy’s seat.” One student whispered to his seatmate, his hand pointing towards Marco’s slouch presence.
“Why?.."
“He’s lucky. Damn lucky to sit next to a girl like that.” he replies, his tone soft and tinged with envy.
You see, each student seemed to display something unique. One student’s blue eyes glimmered as if daring anyone in the room to not notice. Others towered over the students with their frightening height. And some flouncing about with a strong confidence coming from their sturdy physique. But Arlene was something else, entirely. Her long, flowing hair cascaded over her shoulders, its soft red hue glimmered from the light above, and her hazel eyes matching her hair. Despite the room’s intriguing diversity, the students held their attention to Arlene, the majority of which froze mid-conversation and had their eyes widened and their mouth slightly opened at her presence.
After several more students were called, the teacher voiced out, “Marco… De la.. Crocks..?”
Marco exhaled deeply and stood up, his face devoid of emotion, as if you were looking at a zombie, and the faint murmurs slowly faded as he stood. “Hello everyone,” he said in a monotone, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “My name is Marco Delacroix, and I like drawing and reading books,” he added, raising his voice slightly as he stated his last name.
“Oh.” the teacher replied. “Apologies, Marco.”
“No worries.”
Without a word, Marco sat down.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a sketchbook. Its edges are worn out, and each page is filled with intricate portraits and sketches. After flipping through a few pages, he found a blank one. He started drawing, each stroke of his pencil precise.
Arlene couldn’t help but notice Marco’s meticulous sketching, and she finds herself dumbfounded by his work. “Those are amazing drawings, you know?” she said.
“I know.” Marco replied, side-eyeing Arlene before turning back on his landscape. The frequent chattering and lecturing slowly faded, as if he was somewhere else entirely, lost in the strokes of his landscape. But Arlene remained there, casually observing Marco’s face, and frequently glancing at his sketch.
He never replied, deeply engaged in his strokes. Although it seemed as if he never heard it, he did. He felt a new, bright presence in his own world, one different to others. Marco’s strokes felt more natural, pinpoint, as if the presence guided him throughout the sketch.
A couple of minutes had passed, although it felt like an hour for Marco. But even so, the landscape was done. It was beautiful, from the small but calculated textures of the mountains to the concise shading of the sky and its clouds.
“That’s… How did you-”
“Passion.” he interjected.
“Huh? But you can’t just casually draw like that, you know?” she replied, raising her voice, barely to the extent of the teacher still not noticing.
Marco chuckled, closing his sketchbook softly. “I guess so.” he added as he put his sketchbook back in his bag.
Arlene laughed gently, nodding her head. “I like you. Marco Dela… Croix was it?”
“Yeah.” he replied.
“Alright then. Name’s Arlene Satsuma, so see me at the cafeteria later!” Arlene answered back before turning back to the teacher’s lecture.
There was a brief pause between the two.
“But—” Marco started, but Arlene cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Nope! no buts or ifs from you!”
Marco let out a deep, frustrated sigh as the faint murmurs of the room slowly came back to his hearing, as if he were returning to the real world from his dream reality.
Suddenly, the sounds of faint buzz loudened into a crescendo, though the center of attention wasn’t at the presentation, but rather near the wall, as if some intricate painting was stuck there. Some students took quick glances at Marco and Arlene, their eyes and mouth slightly widening, while others listened to the teacher with intent.
“Hey bro, you don’t think that…” One student behind Marco’s seat nudged and whispered to his seatmate, his eyes pointing to Marco and Arlene.
“That what?” His seatmate answered back while taking down notes, his eyes focusing on the teacher’s detailed lecture.
“You know… Arlene and that new student.”
“Nope. Don’t get me started with that shit.”
Arlene listened to them and she couldn't help but laugh softly at what they said. She glanced at Marco, who seemed oblivious to the whispers around him, looking lost in thought.
The bell rang, signaling the room that it was time for the class to end. Students gathered their belongings: sounds of shuffling paper and scraping chairs fill up the room as Marco shares a quick look with Arlene before leaving.
“Break? Already?..”
The walk to the canteen created long shadows in the courtyard as the sun was setting there. Different foods wafted in the air and smelled delicious, being brought through by students with such excitement as they walked for their lunch break.
They went through the queue in an awfully busy cafeteria until they could get to the counter where they picked trays piled with steaming food. A delicious smell from fresh-cooked food in the cafeteria was mixed up with sounds from students talking all around them. They then set off searching for an empty table with trays in hand; an empty table near the window, and they just walked to get there, forcing their way through the crowd. They placed their trays and sat down. The sunrays would pour through and diffuse warm light over the table. As they settled down, the din of the cafeteria faded into the background, and they began enjoying their lunch. She sat across from Marco. Marco started poking with his food, and Arlene slumped forward, her chin resting on her hand.
“You don't say much, do you?" she began, breaking the silence between them.
"What’s there to say?”
"Oh, I don't know. Why do you always sit by the wall in class? Where'd you learn to draw like that? Or… what's your favorite color?”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Marco pauses, his eyes finally focusing on hers. "Green."
“There ya go! Now we’re getting somewhere. Why green?”
“I like mountains.” He spoke deeply, returning his attention to his food.
“Mountains? That’s it?”
Marco never answered and continued devouring his meal like he’d never eaten for days.
“You’re so mysterious, Marco.” She calmed her laughter, keeping a playful smirk on her face.
“Everyone says that,” he muttered, his expression unreadable. “I guess it’s normal for me to be ‘mysterious’ like you said.”
She chuckled lightly, taking a moment for another bite of her meal. “You’re so easy to talk to, you know?”
“Maybe you’re just good at talking.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she replied with a soft voice. “But man, I really do wanna see some of your drawings. What’s with that interest of yours?” she leans closer, one of her brows raised.
“It’s really just something I do. Just keeps me quiet.” he answered, his voice deep and weary.
“Quiet huh… I get that. I guess life could get a bit… noisy.”
“Yeah.” he replied as he stood up, bringing his tray back to the counter. “Alright man, I’m going now.”
“Already..?” she frowned a bit, still sitting on the table. “Come on Marco… Let’s talk more!”
But Marco kept walking without looking back, settling his tray on the leftovers table.
As Marco walked out of the cafeteria, footsteps echoed faintly amidst the noisy atmosphere. He stopped right at the door, mid-step. He gripped his bag tightly, the strap creaking. The noise in the cafeteria receded, to be replaced by the oppressive weight of a thought.
Loneliness.
He knew the feeling too much. The ache of sitting in a crowded room but still feeling invisible. The way it crept into every corner of your life, no matter how much you tried to push it away. He'd lived with it, carried it, and though he told himself it didn't matter, it did. His eyes flick back toward the table where Arlene sits. She wasn't looking at him, though she's gazing vaguely around the cafeteria with fingers drumming idly along the edge of the tray. Her smile from earlier was gone now, replaced by a faint numbness he recognized too well.
“Shit.” he whispered to himself.
He turned around and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before walking back to Arlene’s table. He puts on a seemingly gentle and calm face. A simple grin and his hands in his pockets. He then approached Arlene, carefully settling on the chair across Arlene’s. He hesitated, but he rested his hand on hers.
“Well… I guess I do have some time to talk with you for a bit.” Marco said softly.
As Marco's hand touched hers, Arlene stilled. Her fingers tightened against his soft touch, and the tapping ceased. She turned to him slowly, her eyes somewhat wide, as if she really didn't believe this was happening. For a brief second, her lips parted; yet nothing came out. Instead, a faint pink crept onto her cheeks, and then she looked away for just an instant before coming back into his eyes.
“Oh,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. Then, with a small, uncertain smile, she added, “I didn’t think you’d come back…”
He paused, looking away for a moment before turning back to her. “I have my way of relating with others.”
She chuckled quietly, her happy smile gradually returning. “Yeah, whatever.”
They talked through the entire lunch break, their words flowing effortlessly between teasing banter and thoughtful conversations. Arlene laughed a lot, and Marco found himself smiling more than he realized, his usual quiet demeanor softening as they talked. As they conversed, the noise of the cafeteria receded. The mumble of the students and scrape of chairs slowly died away until only the two were left. Arlene glanced around in surprise to find that they were the last ones there. Time passed silently, as if for a little while the rest of the world had simply faded away.
“Well… That was fast.” Arlene muttered quietly, her voice carrying a miserable tone. She stood up straight, scanning her watch. Her eyes widened as she looked at her watch. “We have like… about 12 minutes left. Come on, Marco.”
Marco’s eyes glinted with doubt as he glanced at Arlene’s invite, though after a brief moment, he accepted her hand.
The two hurried along the hallway, their feet moving in quick succession. Marco checked his own watch, all worn and dusty.
Its arms and numbers told Marco, and his eyes widened as he deciphered the time.
12:58 pm.
“Oh for God’s sake,” Marco whispered to himself. “Is your watch 10 minutes late?!”
“Wait what?!” She exclaimed, looking at her watch as it ticks.
12:49 pm.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink. “You know where our room is… Right?”
“I’m going wherever you go. I don’t know where the heck I’m going.” he grumbled.
“Crap.” Arlene mumbled to herself.
She started sprinting, her steps widening as if something was chasing her. Marco, meanwhile, showed not even a single tinge of care about being late, left behind by Arlene. She jogged from the long fluorescent hallways to the garden, and up the stairs. She reached the final corridor, her uniform soaked in sweat. The room was at the end of the seemingly long hallway, a sign that read: “Room C-3”.
The sign came into focus as she approached. So she scanned her watch one last time.
12:49 pm.
“Thank goodness…” Arlene breathed to herself, opening the door gently.
There was the usual buzz that filled the air as soon as she opened the door, the purrs of conversations and the occasional laughter greeting her. Arlene sighed heavily, glancing at the noise-filled room before sitting. There was Marco’s seat beside her, empty.
“Hey Arlene! Where’d your boyfriend go?” Someone abruptly teased from behind, along with a chuckle.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” She answered, turning her head slightly. Her eyes were narrow and dark, glaring at him with an eerie aura.
The man’s hands trembled, and took a quivering step back. “M-My bad.”
As she turned back, a chuckle escaped her lips. But even as the noise carried on, the emptiness of the seat beside her weighed on her mind. The typical chatter, the bursts of laughter, the teacher’s lecture, it was all the same, yet for Arlene it felt empty.
Something was off.
A few minutes turned into a couple, then half an hour, yet this strange ambience stayed within her.
“Damn it, Marco.. What the hell are you doing?”
Finally, after what has been like a whole day for Arlene, Marco came into the classroom. The faint muttering subsided, and many heads turned.
“Well, well, well! Marco Delacroix. Nice of you to join us!” the teacher voiced out each syllable of his name with a tinge of irony smothered in her smirk.
The room followed with quiet giggles and murmurs, though Marco seemed like he didn’t mind. Without hesitation, he walked over and sat next to Arlene, his eyes bleary and tired.
“Where have you been?!” she mouthed, her brows furrowed.
“What do you mean where have I been?!” he retorted, his voice unusually raised. “I ended up in the damn janitor’s closet, Satsuma. That’s where I’ve been.”
“How the hell did you end up in the janitor’s closet?! And can you stop calling me Satsuma?!” exasperated Arlene as she shook her head in disbelief.
“You know what, nevermind.” She sighed.
Until that point, the two were incredibly silent for the rest of the class. Arlene diligently took down notes, writing down every single word the teacher said, meanwhile Marco came back to his own world, sketching portraits filled with intense passion with only his pencil and sketchbook.
Soon, the bell rang, and the screeching of chairs alongside the unintelligible chitchat of the students filled the air with an unpleasant harmony as they walked out the room. Unsurprisingly, Marco stayed sketching, and his face seemed oblivious from the noise. Arlene was packing her bag as she noticed Marco sketching like nothing happened.
“Hello? Marco?” Arlene said with an intentionally distracting manner. Still, Marco didn’t budge an inch.
“Hey Marco, wake up!” repeated Arlene. And after a few seconds, Marco came back to his senses. The first thing he noticed was her hand gently shaking his shoulder, and he wondered.
“What is it.?” he huffed.
“Class is done now, so get up.”
Arlene had that dominant energy emanating her presence, fierce and strong like a lion. The red hue of her hair complimented her serious expression as she signaled Marco to rise. And well, Marco was immune to that, his nonchalant demeanor completely contrasting to Arlene’s. Fortunately, he did hear her deep voice reverberating around the room.
“Huh?” he replied, scanning the empty room. After a few moments, the realization hit him. “Oh.”
He silently stood up and packed his sketchbook alongside his pencil, strapping his backpack on his shoulders as he walked to the door.
“Wait!” Arlene interrupted, walking towards Marco. “Well uhm… You wanna hang out somewhere, since we didn’t talk that much just now?”
Marco hesitated as he touched the doorknob. “No.”
“Why?” he asked, a soft frown capturing her lips.
A moment of silence filled the air as she asked. “I just don’t want to.”
“Come on… Just this one time, please?” she begged, her hands clasped together.
Marco paused, his hand resting lightly on the doorknob. He told himself he didn’t care, that he didn’t owe her anything—but the sincerity in her voice made him hesitate. His hand clenched as his gaze turned briefly to her.
Arlene wasn’t looking at him with pity or judgment or anything else, but... hope.
He sighed, the tension in his shoulders loosening ever so slightly. “Fine,” he muttered. “Just this once.”
Her small frown quickly changed to a bright smile as he reconsidered. Her smile alone gave Marco a glimmer of hope. A small, bright light in the middle of darkness.
Following class, the two went outside the school to take in the sunset's radiance, though Marco’s face was narrow as Arlene dragged her to some place near the school.
“Where’re you taking me?” asked Marco.
“Somewhere calm. Trust me, you’ll like it there.” She replied with a bright voice.
The bright radiance of the sun was near its end, spreading an orange tone throughout the wide sky. An ambience of frequent mutters from outside vendors and the rustling of grass created a seemingly peaceful symphony in the breeze as the two walked to a quieter place.
After a few minutes of walking, Arlene led Marco to an empty grassy park with a big, old oak tree at the center, though its leaves were still pretty green. Marco sat down at the bench, settling his bag beside him, while Arlene sloped against the oak tree, admiring the natural beauty of the sunset. From the oak tree, you could still barely see the quite large school campus of their university, as well as tall skyscrapers and mountains from afar. Marco leaned against the bench, his hands clasped behind his head in a relaxed posture and took a deep breath before silently observing the aroma of peace and quiet around him. The rustling of leaves and the feeling of someone with him felt peaceful.
He took a deep breath once again, finding the right words.
“Hey Arlene,” Marco started, a faint grin to cover up his ‘loner face’. “I’ve never admired a sunset like this before.”
“Really?” Arlene chuckled quietly. “Well, the sun sets everyday, you know.”
Marco blinked, caught off guard by how simple yet deep it sounded. He opened his mouth to reply but found himself only nodding, his eyes drifting back to the horizon.
“Yeah, I know.” He replied gently. “I like it here. Calm and all.”
"Then you’ve got to come with me someday." she said, her gaze fixed on the orange sky. Her voice was soft, but certain.
“We’ll see.” Marco grinned unknowingly. He really did. It wasn’t much, but it was real.
Silence filled the air surrounding them, only the sounds of birds chirping and the faint muttering of passersby were heard. The sunset slowly began to move, its radiance fading away.
"Do you ever feel like... I don’t know, what you’re drawing could come to life?" Marco asked, his voice quiet as he flipped open his sketchbook and picked up his pencil.
“That’s called talent.”
“Maybe passion’s a better word.” He said.
“Maybe it’s both.” Arlene replied with a smirk.
Without a word, he lowered his pencil to the pad. His stare flicked between the fading horizon and the page. His strokes were deliberate, and each line caught the blazing glow of the sun.
“What’cha drawing now?” Arlene asked tenderly, taking a brief look at his incomplete yet already delicate work.
“Just something.” Marco said, his gaze fixed on the page.
As Marco drew, a strange sensation crept over him, like a gentle wind guiding his hand. Each stroke felt instinctive, as if something hidden flowed through him.
Arlene hesitated before resting her arm warmly on his shoulder as he drew, her gaze steady on the page as quiet minutes passed swiftly. She stayed there with him until he finished as the last gleam of the sunset disappeared.
“Wow… That’s amazing, Marco.” she said, her eyes widening from the outcome.
Everything, from the soft ground along the riverside to the clouds in the sky seemed so finely drawn as if it was almost alive. The scenery was a picture of what was a calm and serene reflection of everything they had just seen while the sun was dipping. For Marco to be able to draw this within a couple of minutes indeed was amazing.
He turned his head slightly towards Arlene. “You’re still here?” He asked.
“Of course I am,” Arlene answered, her voice unexpectedly confident. “Did you expect me to leave so suddenly?”
He closed his sketchbook gently, squeezing it back to his bag.
“Well, it’s getting late.” Marco finally said as he zipped his bag.
“So?” She replied, smirking. “If I leave, you’ll be alone. You wouldn’t want that, would ya?”
He paused for a moment. Was it just him, or did she actually say those words?
Marco didn’t reply, but he couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long time, Marco felt a little less lonely. It was ecstatic.
“The moon’s starting to rise,” he said, his voice serene. He stood up and turned his gaze to her. “It’s nice meeting you, Arlene.”
His eyes were unusually wide and bright, like there was a faint glimmer of hope illuminating his face.
“Yeah.” Arlene muttered quietly, her voice barely audible. “You’re going?”
Marco stood up and patted her shoulders, giving her a grin. “Mhm. I’ll see you tomorrow.” he whispered.
She didn’t reply, letting Marco walk away to the distance. As Marco walked away, giving a final wave of goodbye, her expression softened, and she turned on her heel, heading toward the school parking lot.
A couple minutes passed, and the dusky sky casted long shadows throughout the sidewalks. The light posts had just turned on, guiding Arlene back to the school. The air was also quite quiet, with only the rhythmic chirping of crickets breaking the silence. Warm white lights glowed from the houses beside the sidewalk, their covered windows hinting at the cozy interiors.
As Arlene arrived at the parking lot, there was a black, sleek Shelby waiting in the corner, its engine roaring as Arlene approached. Along with that was a woman that leaned against the front of the shiny Shelby. She looked like she had stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine, her blonde long hair softly settling on her shoulders, and her high heels that looked impossible for an ordinary person to walk in.
“Arlene,” she greeted, her tone warm. “Finally. I thought I’d have to wait all night.”
“Hey! I’m here, don’t worry!” Arlene said as she quickened her pace, the rumble of the engine vibrating through the air.