Amber stood back and admired her hard work. Spending all those long hours after class really helped after all. In her eyes it wasn’t perfect, but it was acceptable. She wasn’t really a big fan of watercolor. Acrylic was more of her medium. If only she could have done her painting in acrylic… It was required to this piece in watercolor. Why? She didn’t know, and she hated that she had to use the dreaded medium.

She hated how it was too watery, and how the paper could hold only so much water. She hated how the paper would crinkle, and slowly rub away. She had to start over 3 times, and she had to ask for help so many times, she was sure the whole class was annoyed with her. She didn’t know how she did it, but her piece finally looked ‘ok’. She stepped back once again, and was pleased at the fact that it didn’t crinkle, or tear. She quickly took out her i-Pod and snapped a few pictures to add in her workbook. Another thing that bothered her: workbooks. But that was another day.

Amber started cleaning and packing up. Nobody was in the studio this late, and she was all alone. But she didn’t really mind. She blasted some music, and softly sang along as she washed the paint brushes and palettes. Just as the song finished, she washed her hands and dried them. She finally reached her watercolor painting resting on the table. She couldn’t help but smile again. She was so afraid that she wouldn’t be able to complete it. Humming along with the new song playing she picked it up, making sure it had dried. She then carefully placed it in her portfolio. With that done, she took a last look at the studio. The paint was put away, and the sink was clear and clean. The chairs were all pushed in, and to be honest, the studio was cleaner than how it was when she found it. She closed the lights and locked the door, placing the keys in her jacket pocket before walking out of the building.

She wasn’t surprised at the bustling crowd that met her head on. The city was always like this. Always busy, never time for rest. She let out a breath, watching it condense in the air, before joining the movement. It was starting to get chilly, and she shivered, wrapping her scarf tighter around her. She was finally grateful for the scarf. She rarely wore scarves, but was glad it was with her today. The cold wind whipped sharply through the mass of people, and she gripped onto her portfolio tighter. Scenarios of her work being lost in the win scared her.

She finally reached her bus stop, and waited patiently. She observed the other people around her. One was holding his steaming cup of coffee close to him, an other was busy yelling into her phone overusing her vocal cords. She tried not to laugh. She found this world amusing. It was funny how everyone freaked about the smallest things in life. What importance were grades and money in this world? Yes, it was important, but with all those meaningless things, the real essence of life was lost. She wanted to really enjoy and appreciate life. She didn’t want to get lost in the crowd of these thoughtless fools, living without even knowing it. She shook her head, as she saw the bus approach slowly through the heavy traffic.

She stood back as all the people around her rushed in. They were pushing and shoving each other trying to get in. This was what she didn’t understand. Everyone had to wait for everyone to get in the bus anyway. Just because they get inside the bus first, didn’t mean they would leave or arrive first. Actions like this annoyed her. She let the people push and shove themselves inside and patiently waited. The man with his coffee was the only one left, and he gestured for her to get in first. Now that was a real gentleman. She tipped her head, smiled and murmured ‘thank you’ as she stepped in before him.

The bus was crowded as usual, and she made her way to the back, her stop was one of the later ones. She tsked as she saw teenagers screwing around in the seats. They were jumping around, laughing obnoxiously and disturbing the others around them. She rolled her eyes. How could people like this even exist? She watched with disdain as one threw a grape at a sleeping lady. The old lady woke up suddenly, and the kids guffawed. She gnawed her teeth in anger. How could people find joy in others pain? On top of that, they wasted food. There were people who ate dirt...how could they disrespect food like that? Seeing one of the kids about to repeat his action, Amber couldn’t take it anymore. Kids like this needed to be taught a lesson. She was about to step up, despite her seemingly quiet disposition, when someone did for her. It was the man with the coffee. He caught the grape with his free hand as it flew through the air. He glared down at the kids and murmured a few words that silenced them. Amber couldn’t help but smile as the man stepped back, and then asked the old lady how she was doing. She watched as he engaged in a light conversation, and brought a smile onto her lips. The world needed more people like this. She could see the kids mock him once he turned around, but didn’t try anything else. When the old lady’s stop came, he jumped up and helped her down, making sure she was ok. This brought another smile to Amber’s face. He was a real gentleman.

The bus kept going, and people constantly stepped in and out. The kids left two stops ago, and Amber was nearing hers. The bus was mostly empty now, and only her, the man with the coffee, some school children, and the driver remained. Amber’s stop was approaching and she carefully made her way to the front, making sure her hand was on her portfolio. Once she forgot it on the bus. She was afraid it would have been gone, but the driver was kind enough to hold onto it for her. She never forgave herself for her forgetfulness, and now put extra effort in to make sure it was secure. She passed the school children, and was about to pass the man with the coffee, who was now on his phone when the bus halted to a stop. For some reason the bus stopped suddenly, with a jolt. Amber struggled to remain her footing, when she felt something cold and wet. She looked up in confusion only to see the ‘gentleman’ staring at her in shock. His coffee cup was now empty, and the cap was nowhere to be found. She looked down at herself to see the remaining coffee soaked into her jacket. She kept open, as did the man.

“I-I’m so sorry!” He finally spoke up, stuttering as he dug through his bag. his voice was surprisingly deep and rough, something she didn’t expect, but now was not the time to be thinking about the stranger’s voice. He fished out some napkins and lamely attempted to wipe at her jacket. “Uhh, here.” He awkwardly handed her a napkin, but Amber’s attention was somewhere else. She slowly glanced at her portfolio. A dark stain on the side informed her that the coffee hadn’t spared it. Fear gripping her heart, she opened the portfolio with trembling fingers ignoring the napkin. She took her painting out, her hands shaking in anxiousness.

    Seeing the painting drenched in the brown liquid, Amber’s heart dropped. No, no, no. She wiped at the coffee, but it just made things worse, and she could see the paper start to disintegrate. No, no, no. Tears of anger, frustration, and anxiousness filled Amber’s eyes. How could this happen? The painting was due in two days! How would she be able to redo it? She felt a hot tear fall from her eye, but she didn’t care at this point. She wanted to cry, but she reminded herself of her philosophy. There were things more important than this painting. There were things more important than getting into her dream college...right? She jolted again as the bus continued forward, her stop passing by her.

The man with the now empty coffee cup stared at her cautiously. She was now silently crying, and the tears swiftly flew down her cheeks. Oh no...What had he done? He tried to get her attention, and when realizing she was lost in her own world, he pulled her out of the aisle, and placed her down next to his seat. She stills seemed lost as she lifelessly stared at her painting. What was he going to do?