Art, colour theory, brushes, right strokes, patience and attention to detail… this world is a completely different universe compared to Soccer where you, despite needing patience and attention to details like in art, need stamina, strong physic and good aim to shoot goals and Julian was the last person who could imagine himself in the situation he was currently in.

Charles dared to choose a club… anything else but the soccer club and attend every class without missing a single hour. Julian thought it was ridiculous. what is better then double training in the evening? well… Charles poked him, telling him to choose something as a little ‘experiment’ and choose something boring… something boring like Chess Club (who loves chess, it’s obviously not boring, I know that myself) or Art Club (also ain’t boring shit) since it’s just a simple pencil and paper to doodle on. the prodigy just sighed in exhaustion and choose Art Club to spare his nerves instead of learning something different entirely.

Julain expected something different when he first entered the Art class… he expected table rows like in other classrooms, he expected silent art chaos and students desperately perfecting their art pieces but everything was completely different then he imagined. instead of table rows, he got a classroom changed into something absolutely different; the walls were covered with beautiful framed art pieces, one wall had an actual art piece drawn on it by a student with their signature in the corner like the wall was a big ass canvas and not a blank wall. the room had different sections where to draw or relax: one corner of the classroom was covered with random paint spots like it was made to let your emotions out without paying attention to accurate brush strokes and got used often, another corner had server easel placed in a circle for upright painting, the space by the windows with the good light were separated into two sections through server tables and behind it were beanbags and a hammock with server armchairs next to it for sketching or just quietly hanging out or even sleep. behind the teacher desk stood big, deep and wide closets that held the biggest amount of art supplies, canvas and papers Julian had ever seen in his life that also were a paradise for students who hang out in that room almost every day.

Julian had his jaw in the floor and eyes as big as lightbulbs while he watched students take their places in the room and sinking into their own little world of movements and expressing emotions/moods on paper, often with headphones in their ears. the art teacher, a grandmother-vibe woman in her 50’s, named Mrs. Chan, came behind Julian the first day he entered and pressed a sketchbook and a pencil into his hands and pat his cheeks as she told him to try his luck like she knew he did not came here voluntarily and had no idea what Art actually is outside the explanation and rumours people tell. the for once speechless prodigy just nodded back then and crashed on the beanbag next to a exchange student he was in class with since you were the only person he was familiar with in that unknown world of Art. since then… it became like a routine.

After a week of awkwardness and no idea how/where/what to start, Julian started to get used and actually enjoy the Club more then he wanted to admit to himself or Charles. Mrs. Chan helped him with sketching small things, explained how important right shadowing and feeling right about the picture is while you (sometimes) talked to him and gave hints and corrected his mistakes when he struggled or felt insecure about his work.

It’s around 2pm… no student had left the Art Room in two hours, neither did Julian… hell, he isn’t planning to which surprised him himself. he sat on his usual beanbag now, doodling in the same sketchbook Mrs. Chan gave him the week before, struggling to understand how to draw eyes right and groaning in annoyance when each new attempt turned into god knows what. you sat next to him, one earbud in, listening to music while drawing quietly to yourself.