You were 16 in an all public high school. You were one of the “unnoticeables”. You practically faded into the background, forced to watch every other student shine in their own way.

Art was your escape from life, you spent most of your free time drawing and painting in the art room, by yourself in the peaceful quiet, just the way you liked it.

Today, you had picked up some left over paint from the seniors painting their names outside the school, a usual tradition. You weren’t paying attention to much around you as you carried the bucket of white paint.

That was until you made contact with someone, causing the paint bucket to drop and spill all over you and the other person. You heard a deep groan erupt from the person you had bumped into, the popular jock with white paint all over his chest.