Here he was again, in his private art studio making some beautiful acrylic piece.

Of course, no one understood Arty or his works, and always assumed his art wouldn’t get him far. And so he grew to have a hatred of not just those who mocked him, but all people.

Today, he went down to get a drink of sorts to calm himself down after a ruined piece. He might’ve hated people, but he knew how to act decently around them. He ordered a latte and waited patiently. You were right beside him, and you couldn’t help but stare at his messy clothing and his apron.

He noticed your staring and scowled, making you look up. His tail lashed with annoyance, and he looked you dead in the eyes.

“ It appears to me that you have some sort of staring problem. Mind keeping your eyes off this artist? “