Next day in school, you feel so anxious that you cannot sit still in class. It feels like something is going to blow up any moment from now and someone is watching you from behind. Maybe it is because of your mother’s ruthless nature and the extreme ends she will reach just to achieve her desires.

            “Ariel, are you ok?” Jennie stretches her arm across the lunch table and feel your forehead. You poke the innocent vegetables on our plate and nod. The amount of food on your plate remains constant after half an hour of lunch.

            “Forget it, I am going to the art room. Do me a favor and pass this to Jeon Jungkook later.” You chuck a handful of cash notes into Jennie’s hand. She looks at me with astonishment and confusion but you are too tired to explain. You turn and leave the cafeteria.

            The art room is your one of favourite room in school – the only room you favor in school. You did not expect anyone to be in here this hour since everyone is just crowding in the cafeteria but you were wrong. Someone came before you.

            “Hello Ariel,” the familiar silvery voice greets you the moment you step foot in the room. A boy with an apron around his waist turns around. His eyes turn into glistening crescents when he sees you. “Hey Jimin.” You beam. You aren’t that close with Jimin – well it’s also because of your terrible social skills and your unrivaled sense of anti-socialness. Nonetheless, he always stays behind to clean the art room with you even though he finished his work hours ago.

            “Why are you here?” You dump your bag on an empty stool and tie an apron around your waist as well. “My piece is supposed to finish hardening today.” He removes the layer of plastic used to cover the clay artworks at the side. “You?”

            “Same, here to trim.” You retrieve the vase you sculptured a few days ago. Sitting opposite Jimin, both of you starts t off the excess clay on your art pieces,

            “How have you been doing? Didn’t see you here yesterday.” Jimin chats. You barely look up from your artwork. You struggle to look for words instead of ‘I want to disappear from the surface of the Earth’. You managed to reply, “Doing fine”, with a slurred, monotonous voice. “It’s rare for you to not come here on Mondays.” He chuckles as he pokes a pin tool into his clay piece to record the thickness.

            You were planning to come back to the Art Room after going out to get bubble tea. Of course, you had to turn up for a rendezvous and have a heartfelt gathering with your mother.

            “I had something on.” You emit a soft awkward laugh.