"What are you doing?"

The door swang open in which it made her heart leap out of her chest. She was busy painting in her small canvas, with headphones covering her ears and music blasting in the right amount of volume. She might have been called a lot of times judging from the look from her mother.

She quickly hid her canvas under her pillow, not that it would help reduce her mom's irritation since she just got caught.

"Did you call for me?" She asked back.

"Yes I did, Ryujin. And how many times have I told you, quit wasting your time on art. It's not gonna make you a living. You should study for med school and follow your father's footsteps-"

And it keeps on going.

Ryujin internally sighed, adjusting the volume of the music. She's tired of this.

She's lost count on how many times she's been told off of her art.

Her passion.

Her dream.

Ryujin loved art since she was 5 years old. She loved how it conveys a person's point of view of the world. How art is full of emotions–how it can make Ryujin express herself.

She's in love with art.

Yet she also despises it.

"Are you listening to me, Shin Ryujin?" Her headphones were yanked out from her ears. "I don't know why you're so stubborn, young lady. We just want the best for you! Your father and I have been working so hard just to give you what you want and what you need. What you're doing is beyond selfish and foolish."

"Give it back, Mom." She reached out for her headphones but her mother pulled it away from her reach. She wanted to cry. "I thought you were calling for me. Why are you doing this to me right now?"

"Your father wants to talk you. Now go downstairs or else I will destroy every art–whatever you call it. I'm just letting you do whatever you want until you go to med school. Stop being so ungrateful." She tossed the headphones back to Ryujin and went downstairs first.

"ing hell." It's always like this.

She picked up her pocket-sized sketchbook along with its pen and rushed down the stairs. Instead of going to her father, she ignored their calls and rushed through the door. Ryujin doesn't want to deal with their bull right now.

The sun is setting already. The weather is hot, but not too hot. She ran, clutching her sketchbook on her chest. She doesn't know where to go,

Or maybe she does.

The smell of coffee welcomes her and the store bell rang. "Good afternoon." Said the worker. Ryujin sat down at the corner of the coffee shop beside the window after ordering. It's her seat, her place.

Ryujin started sketching. Her left ear is occupied by her headphones, while the other is not. The music from the coffee shop and from her headphones are getting mixed up. Though she prefers her choice of music, she couldn't deny that the music playing inside the sh