Chapter 2 Art of love

Chapter 2 And me? Here I am, still in Sta. Tomas, waiting for my own opportunity to knock. That witch is already famous, and yes, she's beautiful.

Her boyfriend, Rexus Herrel, has a lot of connections, so it's easy for her to sell her paintings, unlike me. But I'm happy with what I have.

Rexus Herrel, by the way, was my childhood friend-well, until Annaliza came along and ruined everything. Ever since they started dating, things have changed between us. He became distant because of her.

"Good luck, Reyang. I hope someone buys your paintings so you can go home happy," she said sweetly. But I wasn't fooled. She's so fake. Her words sounded insincere.

What she probably meant was, "I hope no one buys your ugly paintings so you can go home in tears." I know her too well, and I know she hates me.

I don't even know why. She's the more successful one between the two of us. She's worse than bitter gourd-so bitter.

She was wearing a white strap dress and looked like an angel. If only her attitude wasn't devilish. If I didn't know her, I might've mistaken her for a kind person.

Back to reality, I'm Rea Enero Suwaib. 23 years old. Known as the "Wicked Painter" and definitely not cute.

"Leighton, my future sister-in-law, is here! Let me introduce you, Reyang!"

Leighton?

"AND WHY would you do that, Annaliza? I'm not interested," I said in a bored tone, but with no emotion.

I saw her grit her teeth, causing a slight smirk to form on my lips. That's it, Annaliza. Show your true colors. Stop being so fake, because even pretense can get tiring.

"Oh, bestie. I'm just kidding. You know I could never refuse you. You're my best friend, and I'll never forget you no matter where you go." Because you're just a rival and a friend-stealer. I'm not bitter; she can have that guy. Ew.

I approached her and hugged her as if I missed her, even to the point of squeezing her tightly. I kissed her cheek and hugged her harder. I felt her body stiffen, and I knew she could barely breathe properly.

Yes, she's fake, but I can match her and play along with her plasticity.

"Get off," she whispered weakly, but forced herself to smile. She couldn't push me away because too many people were watching us. She would look like the bad one if she did something that could ruin her sweet image.

Once I was satisfied, I released her and even gave her a little shove. Her lips parted in shock at my action.

She quickly adjusted her crumpled dress, laughing as if she was pleased with me.

"I missed you too, bestie. Good luck later, okay? Don't be nervous, because you won't be going home with a frown on your face. Isn't that right, Grandpa Henriko and Grandma Areah?" she said, trying to get the attention of my grandparents.

Of course, only Grandpa Henriko answered her, since Grandma Areah has quite the attitude.

"Of course, Annaliza," Grandpa said with a smile, only to be elbowed by Grandma. I smirked secretly. Grandma really doesn't like my so-called best friend.

"Rexus!" she suddenly called out her boyfriend's name.

I ignored her and focused on my paintings, which Kapitana's men were carefully bringing inside the tent.

"Let's go inside," I said, inviting my grandparents. I positioned myself between them to help them walk, even though Grandma could manage on her own. Grandpa, on the other hand, needed assistance, despite using a cane.

He walks slower now. I made sure not to glance back at that lovebird couple. I'm not jealous, okay? I'm just disgusted. Seriously, ew.

"Rea." I exhaled deeply when I heard my name spoken by my former friend. His voice was still as gruff as ever.

But since he distanced himself from me, I did the same. I gave him a genuine smile and looked at him.

He was still handsome, with his black hair neatly combed back, looking just the same as ever. You can tell by the first line of this paragraph that he hasn't changed.

"Hi," I greeted him briefly, showing that I wasn't sad or regretful about losing him from my life.

"Long time no see, Rea," he said, a smile on his lips. A smile that could kill, but sorry, I'm wicked, so I won't be dying from just his smile, which, by the way, is his best asset and what my so-called best friend fawns over.

"Yeah," I replied curtly.

"Good luck, Rea," he said, still smiling.

"Thank you," I replied, turning my back on them and rolling my eyes.

Inside the large tent, we each had our own booths. My face lit up when I saw my name displayed on mine. My booth had a black theme, which stood out from the others. It should have been noticeable, but somehow, it wasn't. People might even pass it by. I specifically requested three chairs from Kapitana.

"Please have a seat, Mr. and Mrs. Suwaib," I said formally, making Grandpa Henriko smile and chuckle softly. Grandma simply shook her head at me, but there was a ghost of a smile on her face, which was visible to me.

"Thank you very much," I said to the two men who carried my paintings.

I carefully arranged them, and soon enough, more people started coming inside. Locals were allowed to enter, as this was a free exhibit. Guests could also buy the artworks if they liked them, as long as the price didn't drop below 5K, which we set to avoid losses.

I straightened up when I saw guests walking around and starting to admire my fellow painters' artworks. I could see the wonder in their eyes, and they nodded in approval.

I was about to greet a couple when they passed by my booth. I was immediately disappointed but kept smiling so I wouldn't look pitiful.

Then I noticed Annaliza and one of her lackeys eyeing my booth. It was obvious they were talking about me. I averted my gaze. She was showing off because her booth had many guests.

"It's okay, child. Not everything comes so easily," Grandpa Henriko reassured me.

"There's nothing wrong with trying, Rea. Even if no one buys your paintings, what matters is that you put in the effort," Grandma added.

"It's okay, you're the most beautiful painter here anyway," Grandma Areah teased. She rarely does that, so I let it slide.

"I'm fine, Grandpa Henriko and Grandma. It's just a little disheartening," I said, pouting.

When no one buys my art, I cry not because of disappointment, but because it helps me release the frustration of people not appreciating my work.

Afterward, I feel okay and return to my usual self. Weird, isn't it? But that's how I am.

"This... this is amazing." I stood up from my seat when I heard a voice close to my booth.

I wasn't mistaken. I saw an old man, about the same age as my grandfather, with a younger man who seemed to be my father's age.

"Because of this painting... I remember your mother, my son," the old man said joyfully.

He looked wealthy, judging by his clothes, and they weren't alone at my booth. I noticed men in black tuxedos standing alert behind them.

Are they rich?

"This is... weird, Dad," the younger man said. I grimaced.

"But yeah, it's beautiful."

I looked at the painting they were referring to. I had used black and white for the painting, with a white background depicting two people seemingly courting, surrounded by a smoky atmosphere.

The man, painted in black, held a red rose in his right hand while gently touching the woman's cheek with his left. The woman, painted in white, appeared to be reaching for the rose.

But it wasn't just about courting. My subject was a man and a woman.

"Art of Love..." I murmured, catching the attention of the two men.

Their presence was striking, and it was clear they were father and son. Despite the old man's age, it was easy to see how handsome he must have been in his youth. Their presence was intimidating.

I could feel the power radiating from them. They weren't just rich people; they were more than that. Still, I mustered the courage to face them.

"I know you all already know about this, right? The Art of Love-it's visible in that painting, how you can see the beginning of their love. Their first meeting, or how they got to know each other, wasn't exactly ideal," I explained as I gestured toward my first painting.

In it, you can see three characters. It's also in black and white. A woman and a man are dancing, while another is sitting on a chair, smiling as she watches the two.

The second woman is smiling, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes, while the man remains tight-lipped, looking serious as he dances with his partner.

"What do you think of this?" I asked them, my eyes still fixed on the painting. There was something that tugged at my chest when I looked at it.

"You might think the woman sitting is jealous, even though she's smiling-but she's not. The girl smiling is actually the one hurting the most right now. Because even though she's in the arms of the man she loves, she still doesn't have his attention," I explained. I heard the older man breathing heavily, while the other simply listened in silence.

"Second painting," I added, directing my gaze toward another artwork.

"It would take a year if I explained every painting to you," I said, chuckling, "But to cut the story short: The Art of Love-it's not something you can always see, because we feel it. But it's not enough to simply show love without taking action and making an effort. Love must be felt not just emotionally and mentally, but also physically for it to be real," I explained.

"As we can see in each of these paintings, it wasn't easy for the woman to love a man who had already given his heart away. But they were destined. So, no matter how much the man tried to resist, he couldn't avoid it. He would eventually fall in love with another woman, even if he had promised to love only one and be with her forever. Yes, we can't force our hearts to love someone else. It's like destiny. Whatever is written in your fate will still come to pass."

"It wasn't just the woman who suffered; the man did too. It's not the girls' fault for giving up when they no longer have a reason to fight for a love they thought was never theirs to begin with. We can't call it karma for men either. It's only when they lose someone that they realize their value. That's when they'll know they love them-when they give up a fight that no one dictated but still had an enemy. Destiny. What is written is what destiny wants. It's not about chasing each other; it's about fate testing you," I said, smiling, and I heard them applaud.

To Be Continued...