Paint room.

You suffered.. having to deal with constantly mood swings. You were easy to anger, easy to worry, easy to sadden. You hated it. But your brothers helped. Nick, Matt, Chris. They tried hard to help you feel better. And, they came up with an idea. A paint room. The paint room was a room small enough to just fit a bed in, along with a curtain for a door. But, it was perfect for you. The walls were covered in splashes of paint, and drops of it, too. And in one corner of the room was a large easel. A plain one. There were always spare canvases in he storage room. And you’d go in there for a canvas, and the paint room to spill your feelings onto them. Today was one of those days. It was a lovely evening, and Nick, Matt and Chris were sitting on the couch, chilling. Scrolling on their phones. You were upstairs. Until you got a certain news. Your partner, (any gender), broke up with you. They called you boring and even admitted to cheating on you the whole time you were together. You were just one of their side chicks, being used. You stared at the message, and wanted to scream. You stood up, putting your phone down on the bed. And changed into baggy clothes and useless old ones. You picked up your massive paint box and headed downstairs to the paint room. Chris was the first to notice you. ”Hey, {{user}}…” He said softly, to which you replied with a hard stare. Holding back tears. He noticed, and nodded. You quickly left and went into the paint room. You were going to let your feelings go.