"The first session," Luhan softly said as they met at the lily pond the next day, tilting his head, as he glanced up at Hana. She lazily nodded her head at him and said in a quiet voice, "Go on, my psychiatrist." Sarcasm was clearly evident in her voice. Upon hearing that, a chuckle escaped the male's lips before he sat up straighter.

"What do you think of humans?" He asked, tapping a finger against the grass. The wind tousled his blonde, curly hair as he closed his eyes. He was sitting on the grass cross-legged, both arms stretched out, palms on the ground. Hana looked up and turned her head irreducibly. "How in the world is that supposed to contribute to treating me?" 

"I'm not a normal psychiatrist, you forgot?" Luhan retorted, an almost cheeky smile gracing his lips. The girl briefly glanced at him. "Right," she muttered, slightly annoyed at his faux arrogance. Or maybe not faux. She didn't know. In fact, she didn't know anything about him. 

It was silent for a long while. Hana was thinking about his question. Only the wind's melody could be heard while thoughts entered her mind and left again. The girl stared at the one water lily again, her healthy hand on the ground, feeling the grass against her palm. Her breathing was relaxed, chest rising and falling gently.

“What I think of humans?” She asked, her voice dull. In the corner of her eye, she could see Luhan nod his head. “They're selfish s,” Hana began after a while. “There are no kind humans. The nice ones are the oblivious ones, because those who actually know life are all hardened and selfish.” She took a deep breath and slowly said, “I loathe them.”

“How do you know that?”

“First-hand experience,” Hana replied dryly and shifted her gaze from the water lily to the ground.

Staring at her small figure, Luhan quietly said, “Explain.”

“It's too much to explain,” She retorted, a sigh slipping from her lips.

“We have much time." The male smiled and waved to the beautiful pond in front of them. “And isn’t this place perfect to share some stories?” He let his gaze wander across the grass to the clear water. From the corner of her eye, Hana watched the movement of his head, traced the lines of his lips as he opened and closed them. Silence fell upon them, and this time it lasted for several minutes.

“You know,” the girl began slowly, “Before my art became known, my family had a lot of debts.” She halted and stole a glance at Luhan, whose face was turned away, thus making it impossible to see his face. Hana leaned back again. “I watched as my parents fought over money, stayed silent as they slowly became money hungry monsters.”

After several seconds, she added in a quiet voice, “It wasn’t a pleasant sight.”

“How was the routine of one day?” Luhan asked, surprising Hana a bit, as she hadn't expected him to say anything. The girl arched her neck and stared at the sky, tracing the soft cotton-like clouds with her eyes. Slowly, the white of the clouds shaped into a human's form. The other clouds did likewise. The white people gradually obtained more colors, soon looking like real humans. Like Hana's family. Or so did Hana perceive it. In fact, she was just blankly looking at the sky, while Luhan watched her from the corner of his eye. He watched intently as the girl furrowed her brows and grew curious about the look in her eyes.

Hana could see her parents and herself. How they were arguing, how they were being moody, how they were being stressed and venting it out on her. That was a normal routine.

Whenever her parents came back from work, there was still a lot of household work to be done, since Hana usually spent her free time drawing, or doing nonsense as her mother liked to say, instead of contributing much to the household. Unfortunately, the amount of free time was small, as she had just entered high school and things were becoming real and difficult regarding good grades, so balancing it out was hard. Then there were also her little sister and little brother, barely six and eight years old, thus unable to contribute anything to the household. Also, the two little ones were unable to work part-time, of course; that made their parents push it onto Hana again, so she was delivering meals for a fast-food restaurant every day. However, the earnings were small. Not enough. Never enough. 

All in all, there were too many hungry mouths to feed and no money for that.

Despite those circumstances, Hana wasn’t thinking of changing her view on things. She wanted to live her life to the fullest – art meant everything to her – and she tried to keep as much time as possible for her passion. However, at times the flat was in real need to be cleaned and tidied. And if she didn’t do something in a while, hell would break loose. So, delivering, studying and taking care of the household were the priorities set by her circumstances, but actually she just wanted one thing: to draw.

To dream. Because that's what she loved the most. The process of losing herself in drawing o painting. Losing herself in her imagination. Losing herself in the happy world she herself created.

And it seemed that, by some miracle, her wish was fulfilled. It was a ordinary day to deliver a few noodle boxes, but the destination wasn’t just somewhere, it was the school of arts of the city. Once, she read the building's name, her interest and curiosity were awakened, and she enthusiastically entered. The corridors were filled with paintings ranging from landscapes to portraits to abstract art, taking away Hana's breath with their beauty.

As chance would have it, she bumped into a few people who'd just left the classroom. Things happened too fast from then on. The boxes flew and the next second a loud noise could be heard. When Hana regained her senses again, her eyes spotted one framed portrait lying on the ground, glass broken and noodles on the surface of the paper. Devastating. No other word could have described her feelings at that moment. While Hana was still digesting what just happened, the whole class had now left the classroom and every student became a spectators, thus forming a crowd around Hana.

One student, a girl with chestnut hair that fell over her shoulder in curls, knelt down next to the painting and gnawed on her lower lip as she eyed the painting. She attempted to save it by pushing away the noodles. However, the sauce smeared more on the paper and the girl immediately backed away and looked at her hand, on which the sauce left a trace as well, with a disgust evident on her face.

“That was my painting,” she whispered, voice cracking. Hana immediately bowed and after apologizing for the nth time and bowing wit