2. Picture Perfect

I grab a change of clothes and head for the shower. Once I'm done, I head back into my room as I dry my hair with my towel. I stop midstep to see Rylee, my childhood best friend sitting on the edge of my bed waiting for me.

"Ry? What are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming over." I state, as I make my way to my makeup table.

"The twins called me."

"Of course they did." I reply, rolling my eyes.

"You don't need to be mad at them. They're just worried about you. What you did.." She began, however, I cut her off. 

"You don't need to give me the spiel. I heard it enough from my brothers." I state, turning away from her to brush my hair in the mirror.

"Come on Bubs. You know they didn't mean to upset you." She says calling me by my childhood endearment she's called me since we were kids. 

I sigh and turn around to look at her.

"I know. I'm not mad at them really." I say, however, Rylee knows me better than I know myself. She walks over to me and hugs me.

"I know. You're just frustrated." She says, holding me tight. 

Rylee has been my best friend for longer than I can remember. As kids, we were both born prematurely which meant that we spent most of our childhood in the hospital. Rylee made her way into my life, and we've been best friends since. Unlike everyone else, I don't have to explain how I feel, she just knows. She knows because she's lived through the same thing. The difference between us though is Rylee used her experience to inspire her career in medicine. Whereas my condition led to me rebelling against anyone that tried to hold me back. The more someone said 'no' to me, the more it inspired me to prove them wrong. My interest in martial arts is a prime example of that. The more people told me I couldn't do it, the more it drove me to try. What started out as just a 'f*ck you' gesture to those that said I couldn't, soon became my pastime. 

Rylee released me from her embrace as she saw that I'd calmed down. 

"So what are you working on?" She asks, opening the door to my hidden room. When we were kids, my mom had specially designed this house for all of us. Each of us had a secret room attached to our own room. Its purpose was to provide a space unique to us and our desires. My passion was art, so with the help of my parents, my secret room was transformed into an art studio. 

"Just an art project from Ms. Jefferson."

"What's the assignment this time?"

"She wants us to pick a famous painting and use the skills she's taught us to try to recreate it."

I watch as her eyes grow wide. Where my passion lies in art, Rylee's is science. So anything art-related goes over her head. She just looks at me as though I'm crazy. The way she's looking at me now, you'd think Ms. Jefferson just asked me to design a water fuelled jet to make it to the moon and back. I can't help but laugh at her antics.

"Ryles, it's not as bad as you're thinking."

"But it sounds impossible. Like what is she trying to prove? It's as though she expects you to transform into Picasso or something." She retorts, making me laugh out loud.

"No, she's not. She's just trying to get us to learn control and technique. Those artists are famous for a reason. She wants us to explore some different techniques. Remember, art is in the eye of the beholder. I don't think she's actually expecting us to perfectly recreate the masterpieces, but more so seeing how our techniques compare to the masters." I explain.

She nods her head, but I can tell she doesn't see it the same way I do.

"So what painting are you choosing?"

"I wanted to do Van Gogh's Starry Night." 

"Of course you are. Why did I even ask?" She replies, knowing that Starry Night is my favourite painting. Van Gogh's Starry Night was the painting that introduced me to art in the first place. I remember my parents taking me to the art gallery for the first time. I remember just staring at it awestruck. It was so magnificent. The replicas could never do it justice.

"Well, do you want to do our homework together?"

"Well, you're here already, so we might as well." I say, smiling.

Rylee walks out of my secret room and makes her way to my desk. We're both in our final year of high school, but are taking entirely different courses. While Rylee aspires to be the next best surgeon, my dreams lie in art. I would love to be a famous painter one day. 

"How's your other project coming along? Do you know when it's set to be released?"

For the past few years, I've been working with my dad on a new design for wearable tech. I like to call it Brio. This technology is designed to help anyone in need. So long as the person is wearing the device, they will always be able to get help. The device will compare their normal health screens and send out an alert if the person is in danger. If the person experiences a heart attack, or is having an anxiety attack. Help will be sent. The device also has the power to temporarily assist the person in need. If a person is dehydrated, then it will send a reminder to the person to drink some water. If a person is starving, food will be sent to them. This device will singlehandedly change the world and the health industry altogether.

"Brio is coming along well. We are just in the final test phases. Then it's set to be released by the end of the year." I state happily.

"Wow! That's incredible Bubs! Will you go to the release party?" 

"I haven't thought of it. But probably not."

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to be associated with the project." I state matter-of-factly.

"What? Why not? If it was me, I would be soaking up the spotlight." She says, dreamily.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just worried. My parents told me everything about what happened to them before I was born, and I guess I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?"

"I don't know, I guess that someone may try to come after me?" I confess. I know it's an unlikely scenario, but I can't help but give in to my fear. Perhaps it's related to that, or maybe it's just because I hate people. Rylee is the only one I've allowed to get close to me. I just don't like being put in situations where I have to be outgoing.

"You know your dad would never let that happen." She replies, trying to make me feel better.

"But he also never expected the Cobras to go after my mother the way they did either."

"But that wasn't his fault."

"I never said it was. Just that you can't control other people's actions."

She nods her head in a defeated manner but doesn't try to push it.

"Plus, this is for the best. It's not as though I'm handing the tech off to just anyone. I'm just giving it to my dad and letting Stone Enterprises and him gain fame from it. My dad's been in the spotlight for decades. He knows how to deal with it. I just can't."

"It's ok. You don't need to explain. I know how you are with people." She sighs, changing topics.

She walks away from me and takes a seat at the desk while I head back into my art studio. I set up my paint palette and begin to focus on Starry Night. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to relax before I reach up to begin. I get so lost in my art, that I didn't even notice how much time had gone by.

"BUBS!" Ryles remarks making me jump back in surprise. I hadn't even heard her enter my room.

"What? What happened? What's going on?" I shout wondering why she just scared me like that.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you but seriously! Is that what you're working on?" She shouts pointing at my work.

I turn to look at it and shrug.

"Ya... Why? Is it bad?" I ask, stepping away to look at it where she's standing, wondering if I made a mistake.

"What?! No! It's perfect. Too perfect. In fact, I can't identify which is the real one." She says.

I laugh at her admission and hand her the original I was using as a guide.

"I think it's clear which one is the original." I remark, however, she just rolls her eyes at me.

"No, stupid. I'm aware yours isn't done yet. But everything else about it is exact." She says in disbelief and with a slight edge of annoyance.

"Well.. that is the assignment, after all." I say, shrugging my shoulders.

"What? Yes... I know that. But still. This is on an entirely different level." She replies still stunned.

"Why? I don't understand. Is something wrong?"

"No. The opposite actually."

"Huh? Care to explain?" I ask.

"I have a better idea."

"And that would be?"

"Sush you, and let me explain."

"Fine." I reply, crossing my arms, waiting to find out what the hell she's going on about.

"Do you think you could recreate something else?"

"I don't know. Maybe? What are you thinking?"

"What about this one?" She says, pulling out her phone to show me The Musicians by Caravaggio."

"I can try. But why?" I ask.

"Do it first, then I'll explain."

"But why do you even want me to do it?"

"If you want answers, then better get to painting." She says, making me roll my eyes at her once more. 

"How about tomorrow? It's rather late. Can I give it to you by the end of the week? I need to finish my assignment first."

"Sure. But make sure to get it done by Friday at the absolute latest." She remarks firmly, making my eyes go wide. What's gotten into her?