"Darling... darling. It looks wonderful. Would you like me to sign it for you, my love?" Zander asks, grinning. He holds up your painting to admire it. It's a painting of him. He really loves it, too. Zander wasn't the best at art, which he often reminded you of. The memory of Donut Steele was definitely not disappearing any time soon.

But you didn't like your art. Something about it rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was the style? Maybe it was the colours? You couldn't put your finger on it. You just knew that you'd rather do anything but look at it.