Before getting his acceptance letter to college, Yuuri was nervously fumbling around the house, lying on his bed, looking up at the drawing of Tokyo in May drawn by one of his favorite artists on Deviantart. His name online was CallMeVic and he had a massive following.

Once he commented on one of Yuuri's artworks. He didn't have many uploaded to the site, though, as he felt he was lacking talent compared to most other artists he saw. CallMeVic gave him a few pointers to make better drawings.

Yuuri still remembered the day he saw the notification pop up, his heart was racing fast and he felt a little nauseous, so he kept making up excuses not to look at it. What if it was going to be a huge let-down for him?

What if CallMeVic was one of those people who always tell him his art was terrible?

At some point he got annoyed with how hesitant he was and looked at the comment. To his delight CallMeVic was respectful and constructive. He lived up to every expectation Yuuri had of him. 

 

Suddenly Yuuri's thoughts were interrupted by his mother and father yelling for him to come down from his room.

His heart once again racing in anticipation, he sprinted off and finally stood with the letter that would determine his future in his hands.

 

This was it.

 

Slowly he opened it and he sighed in relief.

 

He finally got in.

 

In happy moments like these he couldn't help but miss his little companion and loyal friend: his dog, Vic. If he was still there, he would surely be barking and running around joyfully with Yuuri. It had taken him a couple of tries to get into college and he had worked part-time jobs as a cashier to support the family while he lived at home.

 

 

Finally moving to college campus Yuuri was excited and also scared.

He had never lived anywhere else but home and he wasn’t sure if he was able to survive without his mother’s wonderful pork cutlet bowls. His parents and him parted ways after getting Yuuri settled and he spent the rest of the day imagining the next week.

Monday quickly rolled around and it was introduction week. One of his Seniors, Victor, was showing him and some other new students around. In one of the hallways Victor’s painting was displayed.

He had won the annual spring competition and the first price was having your artwork displayed in university and, if you were lucky, even sold. The style felt familiar to Yuuri.

“I think I’ve seen this style before, were you inspired by someone in particular Victor?”

Victor looked surprised, but answered calmly “No, it’s a style I’ve developed over the years, it’s inspired by many great artists but I think I’ve managed to make my own style.”

“I must be mistaken then, I could’ve sworn I have seen painting with a similar style to this before.”

Victor stepped confidently closer to Yuuri, looked down to him and said: “Maybe you have, even before I studied here I uploaded my artworks to Deviantart.”

Yuuri was flabbergasted once he realised where he had seen this style before.

Nervously he stuttered “So,” he started off nervously, “yo-you’re CallMeVic?” Victor smiled and nodded, “Vic is short for Victor, I wasn’t very creative when I was younger.”

He laughed and continued the tour around campus. Yuuri felt nervous around him suddenly, he was his biggest inspiration and idol.

Something about Victor’s paintings spoke to him and inspired him to paint as well. 

 

 

As the week passed Victor and Yuuri met a few times on campus, only nodding to each other to acknowledge each other’s existence briefly when passing the other. 

 

 

On Thursday Yuuri went around the city close to his campus looking for jobs.

He knew getting through college wouldn’t be easy, especially not when it came to money. Some places were still looking for new employees as last year’s graduates had stopped working there after graduation.

Amongst the shops he found, there was a tiny café that had walls plastered with artwork.

There were posters, paintings, framed typography. At a first glance it might have seemed careless and littered with arbitrary artwork, but when you looked closer there were typography pieces with positive messages, photographs of people smiling and paintings of soothing sceneries.

No table or chair was the same, they all looked like they were second-hand.

Yuuri went inside and tried to find the manager, which was a woman in her 40s.

 

They talked and Yuuri explained he was looking for a job. It appeared she had studied art in the same college many years ago, she felt that her art  needed a purpose, which is why she created the café.

It was supposed to be a safe space, a space for inspiration and positivity. The owners name was Minako. She knew that a single-shared-bedroom could quickly be too crammed for students and understood that a safe space outside of Campus was exactly what she yearned for as a student herself as well.

After explaining to him what the café meant to her, she asked if he wanted to work there. He agreed to start working starting the next day after classes. 

 

 

Yuuri worked hard and so naturally, time flew by in the blink of an eye. He occasionally nodded to Victor when they met, but they didn’t have any greater interaction until then.

 

 

In class Yuuri had found a friend named Phichit, he came from Thailand to study art as well.

It was his biggest passion and his parents weren’t too accepting of it, but as he got accepted he promised he’d try to make a living out of it. Phichit and Yuuri quickly became friends and aided each other support when they felt they had lost inspiration and their art was turning into trash.

Yuuri, especially, had days where he had lower self-esteem, when he truly felt that a four year old could surely paint better than him.

Those days, Yuuri often thought about quitting college and doing something with a future, something with job security.

But Phichit kept him going, they were each other’s support system.

 

Autumn turned to winter, and winter turned to spring.

Finals weren’t easy on him or Phichit. They spend many nights in the library studying, if they weren’t studying there, they were in the café Yuuri worked at, or they were in their bedroom.

Yuuris’ roommate didn’t mind changing rooms, luckily. 

 

Without even knowing it, Yuuri had adjusted to campus life.

 

Once a week he called his parents to hear how it was going or, at least, he was calling once a week when he just had moved.

Sometimes he’d call more than once, simply because he felt homesick.

Phichit believed in Yuuris’ talent, he knew that there was so much potential that Yuuri had yet to see for himself as well. It was a shame he had such low confidence and was so insecure. 

 

When classes started again in spring, there was the annual competition to get your artwork displayed in university.

Secretly he had been practicing his art-style for a concept of a painting he was working on. It had to be just right, he needed to find his style, just like Victor had. Yuuri felt terrified bringing his painting up to the submission counter, but there was no turning back now.

He had worked so hard for this moment and he knew if only he had more time, he could’ve made it better, he could’ve perfected it. 

That all didn’t matter now, all that mattered was the quality of the other’s artworks.

What if his painting paled in comparison to theirs?

Sweat drops were rolling down Yuuri’s face, his expression was filled with fear, fear of failure. Unable to move he just stood there, waiting for the judges, consisting of lecturers from his classes, to make their decision.

 

He felt a warm, big hand on his shoulder.

“Hello Yuuri,” the owner of the warm hand greeted.

His heart rate slowed down.

“Are you nervous?” he asked. He could feel his airways tighten and his eyes hurting. He sniffled and looked up to the warm hand.

“No, no, not at all,” he said, trying to sound convincing, “but thank you for worrying about me, Victor.”

Victor nodded understandingly and tightened the grip of his hand for a short moment. “Yuuri, you have to be more confident in your work,” he said and let go of Yuuris shoulder, “let me know if you’ve won.”

Walking away in his confident stride Victor left Yuuri on his own with his nervousness and anxiety once again flaring up.

 

He sat down on a bench near him, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to relax. It didn’t matter if he won, but he wanted to win.

He really wanted to win.

Something heavy was suddenly leaning on his shoulder, so Yuuri opened his eyes to look. His roommate Phichit was leaning his head on Yuuris shoulder.
“Oh, it’s just you,” Yuuri said relieved.
“Who else would it be? Have you made a new best friend I haven’t met, yet?”  
“No, no,” Yuuri laughed nervously, “it’s just… Victor was here earlier.”
“Hmm,” Phichit hummed understandingly. They both stayed like this until the results were put up on the board and all the happy cheers, sad and angry outcries were over and no one else was looking at the results anymore. “Are you ready to go and look, Yuuri?” Phichit asked. 

 

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready,” he admitted.

Phichit stood up, stretching out his hand to Yuuri.

For a second he wavered, but grabbed Phichits hand eventually and walked over to the board. They both read the board carefully, sure not to miss Yuuris name anywhere. 

 

 

But it was nowhere to be found.

 

 

He wasn’t amongst the top three, his painting didn’t win. 

 

 

“Please don’t be discouraged,” Phichit said, trying to cheer him up, “most of the people who won are almost finished studying, we’ll be just as good when we get there as well. It’s okay that you didn’t win, but you tried! That’s what matters, Yuuri.” 

He sighed and mustered up the courage to smile half-heartedly at Phichit. “You’re right, Phichit,” he said, trying to keep his smile

“thank you for being such a good friend.” He sighed out heavily.
“Wanna go and grab a coffee or a tea?” Phichit offered “I’ll buy.”

Yuuri agreed to go.

 

 

When they got to the café where Yuuri worked someone was already sitting in a corner.

Upon coming closer to the café Yuuri recognised him, it was Victor.  

Great,

he’d have to explain his failure to his role model as well. 

As they entered the shop Victor looked up from the book he was reading and immediately eyed Yuuri.
“So, how did it go?” Victor asked him.

Yuuris heart rate began to speed up and he swallowed hard.
He didn’t look at Victor. “I…” he began, tears welling up in his eyes, his voice breaking “I didn’t win.” 

 

Victor put down his book and went over to hug Yuuri tightly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

Yuuri let out a single agonised cry and leaned into Victors shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry, too.” Yuuri admitted quietly.