The weekend goes by like a breeze. Watching our helpers go to and fro, I can't help taking a deep inhale. I'm really going to college today.

"Please be careful," I say to one of them. "That one has all my art supplies."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies and carefully puts it on the corner.

When the last suitcase is finally placed inside, Leo shows up all dressed up in his corporate attire.

"Did you empty our house, Remy?" Leo says with a teasing note, probably noticing all the baggage before one of our helpers closes the compartment with a thud.

I slap his arm but he evades. "I did not!"

"I doubt. Look at your bags. It's as if you brought the whole house and will never return here."

"Can you stop exaggerating?" I slide the door open and step inside the van.

I take a seat at the driver's back and Leo follows behind me. Not a minute after, Mom and Dad arrive.

"We'll fetch Vincent first then go to your university?" Mom says after she buckles herself on the shotgun.

My attention quickly focuses on the mention of my little brother's name. "He's done with the Art Camp? Wait, I thought it'll be over this Wednesday? It's only Monday today."

"Yes, but he finished early."

"Oh? That's amazing!"

"Indeed," Dad agrees. "Though, I remember you always staying so long during art camp so you can be with—"

"I did not!" I stop him right away before he mentions another one of the stupidest things I've done when I was Vincent's age.

🎨 🎨 🎨

The car comes to a stop. I push aside Leo and squeeze myself to get out but he pulls me back to my seat.

I hold on to his arm but he is able to easily fling me back. "Jerk!"

"Rembrandt, don't shout at your brother."

"But Mom, he pushed me!" I try to get out of the car again but Leonard has already rushed out.

I elbow Leo with a seething glare after I reach his side. But, my eyes quickly become friendly curves when I notice the fluff ball approaching us.

"Remy! Leo!" Round-shaped eyes enlarge with cheerfulness as he calls us. His teeth flash as the apples of his cheeks grow rosy from his little run.

Bold letters of 'Arts and Crafts' are printed on his white shirt. He has a cream hat that goes along with the same-colored shorts. White socks cover his chubby legs up to his knees, completing his look of wholesome adorableness.

I swear Vincent is the cutest eight-year-old kid ever. No competition for that.

"Baby, come to your prettiest sister!" I say while spreading my arms.

"No, hug your most handsome brother first." Leo interferes.

I give him a side-eye at his ridiculousness. "Ew! You're the ugliest!"

"You are."

"No, you!"

"Leo, Remy, are you fighting?" Vincent has the most endearing puppy dog eyes as he looks up at us.

"Of course not, baby," I say and hug him while sticking a tongue out for Leo.

"Remy, I can't breathe anymore," Vincent complains as he pushes me a little.

"See? You're suffocating him. Come here, baby. Let Leo carry you, okay?" Without waiting for approval, Leo takes Vincent away from me, bringing him inside the car.

I trail behind them and return to my seat. Vincent gives Mom and Dad a peck while I get my tablet knowing he will not be able to resist this.

"I've downloaded your favorite app," I state, smiling victory towards Leo.

"Really?"

"No," Mom interrupts, turning her head to us. "Your teacher says you stayed up all night so sleep for now."

With that, I cannot do anything but jab Leo who is silently laughing beside me.

🎨 🎨 🎨

Entering the university premises, there are already a lot of students moving in. It doesn't come as a surprise when there are several who have recognized my parents, even my brother, the moment they walk inside the dormitory's lobby.

Out of instinct, I quickly let go of Vincent's hand, showing him in Leo's direction. Just then Dad greets another acquaintance and I notice him motioning to me. I shake my head, running away as if I'm being chased.

My phone rings not a moment later.

"What's wrong? Why did you run away?" Leo says the second I pick up his call.

"Nothing," I answer.

I don't dare confess I don't want to be associated with them. This is different than in high school. In a university that focuses on art, I don't want to be known as an Evans, especially after witnessing the gazes of the people around us.

'What if they expect something I can never give?' I'm just saving my family from the shame of having a daughter who is completely mediocre.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, I'll get the rest myself. You can go ahead."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. See you later." I end the call and walk back to the parking area.

Getting the two trolleys by myself is not a good choice, but compared to having my family walk together with me, this is preferable. As much as possible, I want to avoid attention whenever I can.

I return back to the lobby and head to the elevator. I press the key when a hand suddenly appears between the closing gaps.

A flushed face paired with heavy panting emerges from the opening doors. But when he sees me, his posture straightens as he fixes the dark blonde waves that fall up to the collar of his polo shirt.

Ebony pupils as deep as the night sky without stars are framed by eyelids with no upper crease. Its eye shape slants on the outer corner, giving him a defining look with sharp jaws and a slim nose. Most of all, the signature two parallel moles under his right eye are an obvious giveaway of who he is.

'Terrence Wright.'

I've seen him from afar, up close, and never ever wanted to talk to him again. He's the perfect sample that God has favorites. The type of child parents love to compare with their own kid to highlight what they lack. Talented, handsome, rich, and have some brains too.

Nonetheless, it's true no one can have it all. Terrence certainly fails in the personality department. He is the most arrogant person to walk on earth. Yes, he can be proud of all his achievements but that doesn't excuse his rude behavior like he is at the top of the world.

'But he is though...' the crazy part of my brain contradicts.

Anyway, I refuse to acknowledge his existence and let silence pass between us. How I badly want to curse. There are more prominent schools and why does he have to be here? With his talent, he can even go abroad.

What's worse? He must also be living in this dorm, glancing at his suitcase. Our university has a co-ed dormitory provided for all the students. Not only it is the nearest but it's very pleasing with complete amenities and a good ambiance. But still, he could have chosen a different one. I just can't imagine him sharing with others when he's used to being on a pedestal.

Seconds pass and awkward consciousness fills my senses as if his eyes are drawn to me but I don't dare look up to confirm it. His presence has always been unnerving. It is like I'm not even worthy to breathe the same air as him.

Thankfully, the second and third floors are for men and the fourth and fifth are for women. He drops off at the third while I exit when the elevator pings on the fourth floor.

"What took you so long, Remy?" Leo asks when I reach my room.

"I would have been faster if you helped out your favorite sister and won't let her beautiful hands be calloused from lifting things," I chide.

"What? Isn't it you that volunteered to go alone?" Leo ruffles my hair with a mocking chuckle. He takes both trolleys and lays them on the floor. Seeing all my stuff on the hardwood makes me realize I really did bring a lot.

Mom organizes my clothes while Dad adjusts my bed. They have a standard single bed but it's too high in order to accommodate a storage space underneath. Leo helps me place my drawing board and all my painting materials while Vincent plays with the tablet on the corner of my bed.

"No. Freaking. Way! I will not sleep with a random guy!"

From the open doorway, the screaming can totally be heard inside the room. I draw close to the door, peeking at the commotion. Two hands land on my shoulder from behind and Leo's chin settles on my head.

"You're heavy," I mutter and struggle to get away from him.

"Shh. Quiet down. Look, they're coming."

Two women are in the hallway. The older one, wearing a receptionist uniform, is trying to calm the girl my age who is holding out the papers right at the former's face.

"Ma'am, there must be a misunderstanding—"

"What misunderstanding? It says here, Rembrandt! Rem-brandt E-vans!" Her forefinger points at the paper, full of assertiveness. "I know this is a co-ed dormitory but are you really allowing opposite genders to stay together? I can't believe this. Wait 'till my Mom comes here."

My brother snickers at my back while my forehead wrinkles as I realize what is happening.

"Who's laughing—Oh. My. Gosh!" I have no idea how her voice can get any higher but it does.

Right then, the elevator pings once again, and a middle-aged woman walks out.

"Mom! Hurry! Look!"

The older woman frowns as her daughter frantically points toward our door.

"What's wrong? What happ—"

"I can't believe the legendary Michaelangelo and my goddess Alessandra are right before my eyes! OM— I can't breathe!"

I turn back, only to see, Mom and Dad lurking behind us, obviously eavesdropping as well.

"I-I-I..." The woman fans herself when it is already too cold from the centralized air conditioning. "OMG. Paper, paper, paper. I have to—"

"Calm down, Maize," her mom says while directing an apologetic gaze toward us.

"I can't! I have to get their autographs! I can't miss this opportunity!"

The woman is almost as tall as me but her petite physique is emphasized by the bag she is currently rummaging through. The backpack is half her size and must contain all her art supplies based on the rattles coming from it.

A small tug on my shirt takes away my attention from her. Vincent gestures for me to crouch down.

"Is she okay, Remy?"

I can only shrug. I've met a lot of people who idolize my parents but most of them never act like they are seeing a Hollywood celebrity. Art enthusiasts are usually more... reserved. Not to mention, that kind of fervor is mostly given to the younger generation of artists, from what I can tell so far.

"You already have their autograph before," her mom reminds her. "Besides, this is your room, Maize."

The girl stills. "Oh. My. Gosh! You must be kidding?"

"It is correct, Ma'am. This is room 445—"

"I see! Now I know why Rembrandt Evans sounds familiar. You're the second child of Michaelangelo and Alessandra Evans! OMG, I'm so lucky! Never have I imagined you are the same, Rembrandt! I always thought you were a guy!" She let out another squeal before she finally composes herself. "Hi, I'm Maize! I'm so honored to stay here with you!"

Leo's arm drapes on my shoulder while I can do nothing but watch the girl who declares herself as my roommate.

"She's weird," he whispers, making sure it only passes my ears. I quickly shrug off his arms as I warn him with my eyes. 

"Then, are you Leonardo?" Maize luckily remains nonchalant when her gaze travels to my brother. "You look way more handsome than in the pictures and you must be Vincent! You're so cute!"

"I know right? Vincent's the cutest!" comes my automatic response as I pat his head.

"I bet ya. Just look at his matching outfit."

"True. Light colors are perfect for him but cream shades are totally complimentary to his cuteness."

While we gush over Vincent, my family and her mother start to get along as well, eventually ending up with an early dinner together.

🎨 🎨 🎨

It is past six when Dad dropped Maize and me at the university's entrance. We decide to head back to the dormitory earlier to get some rest while our families have gone home.

The two of us have planned earlier to tour the university tomorrow and get familiarized. The more I talk to her, the more I am reminded of my high school friends — loud, cheerful, and very outgoing. Too bad none of them wants to pursue arts and head to different universities.

"By the way, did you know that Terrence Wright is also staying here?" she says as we enter our room.

"Yeah..."

'Please don't tell me she's also a fanatic of Terrence.' I silently beg because those who idolize him can be really hardcore sometimes. Unlike other art enthusiasts, it's more appropriate to call them 'stans'. This is definitely how Maize is acting but since she loves my parents, I can condone it. Besides those who like Vincent are immediately on my good side.

"How lucky! Have you seen his latest work, 'Siren'? His best work so far!" Maize's voice never seems to lower down that I vouch she can be heard clearly outside.

"Yes. It's amazing." As much as I hate it, I have to admit that fact. Good art is good art.

"I've seen yours too! I really love your creativity. I can't believe you're not even in the top ten!" she adds, still beaming as her brown irises sparkle with such delight.

"Uh... no need to flatter me. Mine's definitely not on par with the top ten— Wait, what do you mean?"

"I've seen your work and it really deserves an award."

"No, what I mean is, you know my pseudonym?"

Not that it's a big secret but no one will actually pay attention to some unknown artist who has never won. And even relating me to the Evans, to boot. 

"Well, I'm sure you're Remy E. right?"

I can only nod with her correct guess. Though I already let go of my full name when entering contests, I can't completely disregard the name my parents have given me. I may not be able to hold my head high but maybe someday I can proudly tell I'm an Evans.

Maize must have mistaken my silence as she continues to explain herself. "As you know, I'm a diehard fan of your parents and I also checked all their children's works. It's only late last year I discovered Remy E. must be the mysterious second child. But not gonna lie, I'm shocked you're a girl. Anyway, Leonardo's works are phenomenal and Vincent's surely has the potential but yours have a certain charm that makes it more beautiful the longer I look at it. It's like a diamond in the rubble, slowly polished to perfection. Though what solidifies my guess is the fact that every time you enter a contest, the whole Evans always comes to visit."

If not for the crimson rising on my cheeks, I may have been alarmed by how she is bordering on stalking but this is the second time someone notices me. It has only been that hooded guy before and I'm surprised there's another one.

I let out a mumble, my gaze floundering around the room except meeting hers. "Uh, girl, stop it."

"Are you shy? That's so cute!" Maize giggles, pinching my cheeks. "Oops sorry! If you haven't noticed yet, I'm over-friendly and get so touchy quickly. Let me know if you're bothered."

"Uh... it's okay. Anyway, I saw you have a 12-color set of Blick Paint earlier. Where did you buy yours? I can only get the six-color set no matter where I go."

"Oh, wait." She dashes to the foot of her bed and opens her bag. "You mean this?"

"Yeah."

"I bought it during our trip out of the country."

"For real? No wonder. I tried to shop online but they are all out of stock," I say.

I've been using that brand since I stumbled upon it a year ago. But, it's not only that. While Maize unpacks her things, I recognize more art supplies that I like. My lips perk up as we continue our art nerd conversation, staying up all night, and completely forgetting that we have other plans tomorrow.