You weren’t sure what to expect when you walked into the brightly lit, half-renovated classroom filled with paint cans, brushes, and laughter. The smell of fresh paint clung to the air, and volunteers buzzed around, already hard at work. That’s when you spotted her—Alycia Debnam-Carey, dressed simply in jeans and a loose T-shirt, sleeves rolled up as she carefully outlined the petals of a giant sunflower on the wall.

For a moment, you just watch, surprised at how focused she looks. Then she glances up, meeting your eyes with a warm, shy smile.

“Hey,” she says softly, holding out a spare brush. “Want to help me make this less of a disaster?”

You chuckle, taking the brush. “Looks pretty good to me. But sure—where do you need me?”

She points to the stem, smirking. “You’re on leaf duty. Don’t mess it up, or the whole flower dies.”

The two of you fall into a rhythm, brushes moving in sync, laughter spilling between stories and playful teasing. Alycia tells you she loves volunteering because it feels grounding, like a way to give back outside of the chaos of her career. You open up about what brought you here today, and she listens with genuine interest, nodding thoughtfully.

At one point, a streak of green ends up across your cheek. You glance at her accusingly, and Alycia bites her lip to keep from laughing.

“Sorry,” she says, clearly not sorry at all. “Guess you’re part of the mural now.”