He barely spoken one word. Chase never felt so embarrassed as he slowly walks towards his painting and rolls it back up. The weight of disappointment is clearly shown on his face, yet this is nothing new to him. Denial is an attractive trait of his. That moment he wanted so badly is now gone. Mrs. Dalton observing him as she too shares the letdown as she tries to explain her refusal.

"It's not you, my boy. Its' not."

He carefully listens as he proceeds to put his rolled-up canvas back into the plastic tube canister. He wants to understand, yet he can't even process what just happened.

"I've been contacted by a French painter, and she was telling me there was a slot available for her in the Tornabuoni Art Gallery in Paris. She has been a dear family friend I didn't want to ruin that. So, I said yes I would support her."

Chase resumes his pack up as he closes the tube tight and places the strap back around his upper body. The plastic tube pressed firmly behind his back.

Mrs. Dalton continues, "I know you must be thinking how could I. You're mad and sad, I get that. My intention wasn't to lure you into a trap, it wasn't."

Any minute more staying here is going to frustrate Chase to the point he's probably going to say something stupid. A supposed deliverance of hope only to be used as a tease.

He begins to walk back to the foyer towards the front door. As he grips the copper knob, he stops when Mrs. Dalton asks him a question.

"Are you angry?"

He turns back to her, his face deep down ridden in woe. Trying not to show any tears or give any indication, he wants to yell in disgust and violence. A slight moment of calmness echoes through his voice.

"Not at all. Not at all." He repeats in a glowered tone.

He opens the door and exits as he quickly gives her a thanks and a goodbye, still trying to show the respect. At least she deserves that.

***

Chase gets up from his futon bed as he places it back to a couch formation. Needing to get ready for class in another hour, he heads over to his shack-like bathroom. Viewing himself over the lone mirror with the one small crack near the upper left, he combs over his black mid fade. Staring at himself, he turns on the faucet and leans his hands over the running water. Splashing some water over his face, rubbing gently around his light brown skin cheeks, he still can't fathom what happened yesterday.

He had his moment. It was right there and just as usual in his inescapable lifestyle, he proceeds to climb high only to fall flat in matter of seconds. With no job, classes pushing hard, and a boring hobby, he literally can't find a way to move on.

When his iPhone starts ringing the alternative music he loves so much, he spots a message left by his godmother, Karen, who he treats like an aunt since she and his mom was raised like sisters.

======

My love, I would like to wish you a happy 21st.

Ur parents would be so proud of you.

I am. Luv, luv, u a lot.

WED 2:45 PM

=======

Be safe, and if you need help.

You know who to call.

Jaxson and I missed you. Call.

Luv, luv

WED 2:45 PM

==========

Chase would like to call Aunt Karen, but he's not feeling it. Even with today of all days being his 21st birthday. Every year since his parents' death, he has always done some sort of tradition. It involves fixing up anything from take out food to junk food, that would be his 'solo b-day dinner'. And to end every birthday meal is to seal it with a chocolate-covered twinkie and chocolate milk.

He appreciates it even though his aunt doesn't. His friends at times do. For Chase, it's the only thing that gives him some sense of normalcy.

After returning from his design class, Chase heads back inside his studio apartment, hangs his bike helmet on the lone hook next to the door, and tosses his backpack near his olive-green futon. Trying to set up his b-day dinner, he heads over to his small kitchen and prep some chicken ramen noodles. Placing a navy porcelain bowl of the watery, hard noodles inside the microwave, he sets the timer and begin the heating. As he waits, he weaves around his art station, kicking over some access brushes and dried-up paint cups just to give up some space to eat.

Hearing the chime from the microwave, he walks over to pull out the warm noodles and starts stirring the seasoning and as well some additional seasoning to pick up the spices. He likes the spicy food yet doesn't want to over season it. As he grabs his lone fork from the silver kitchen sink, he races back to the tabletop desk.

As he looks over the area, he pushes more art stuff away and notices merged within the junk is the framed picture of his parents—a picture Karen kept and gave Chase the day he left to go to Lafayette for college.

It's the only thing he has left of his parents, no cherished memories, nothing to remember by. Chase can barely remember the day they never came back. He was only four then. Karen told him his parents' death was an accident that's it. Chase caresses the wood framed picture and sees he kind of have a resemblance to his father. Placing the frame near the lone window facing him, he continues to view while he eats his noodles. Chewing the soft textured noodles, the Cajun seasoning kicking the flavor even higher.

"Sorry for being an epic failure." He says to the pic in a sorrowed whisper.

"Are you really?"

A strange voice startles Chase as he looks behind and spots his two best friends already inside. The intrepid 21-year-old Lola, who has an unusual ability to understand those that whisper, and muscle-bound jock, Derrick, who recently turned 21 and always like exercising, wearing shirtless tanks, and baseball training.

"Dude, not another one of those solo dinners." Derrick wonders.

"Yup." Chase replies as he resumes his eating.

Lola walks over to him stepping over some dirty clothes and scattered art junk. "Can't believe you live in this pig stein."

"Sorry for being me." He says as he's chewing the noodles.

"I'm sorry you don't have a two-bedroom apartment." She turns to Derrick. "You ever talked about moving in as roommates."

"We did." Derrick sitting at the futon as he speaks. "But with me at the athletic dorms, it's complicated."

"Well something's got to change." She looks back to Chase. "We're not leaving you here in this mess."

"What are you talking about?"

Lola turns to Derrick as he takes his turn. "We going to take you to the pub."

"No way."

"Come on bro, you need a beer. After all you just turned 21."

"Yeah, Derrick's right. Beer solves a lot of problems."

Chase turns back to them suspiciously. "How you know I didn't get the sell."

"I got friends."

Chase doesn't budge as Lola can't stop playing around.

"Alright, one of friends overheard Professor Mire when he was walking to Professor Thibodeaux."

"It sucks you got denied, bro. I know how it feels when victory got snatched from your grips."

Chase and Lola look over to Derrick a bit baffled. Lola continues to convince Chase to go with them. This solo dinner is pointless if he doesn't have anybody to celebrate.

"Listen, come with us. Have one beer and then we can go out and get something to eat, your choice since you're the birthday boy." Lola wonders.

Chase hesitates to respond yet realizing they're going to continue until he goes mad. He relents.

"Off to the bar." He says sarcastically.

Lola and Derrick cheers him on as Chase places a piece of paper towel on top of the remaining noodles and storing it in the small fridge. As he looks quickly to see if he's not forgetting anything, he pats his back for his wallet and is relieved.

Derrick playfully side hugs him, encouraging him he's doing this right. Lola glances back at the apartment floor and snaps again.

"Chase seriously, you need think about cleaning this room."

"Yes, mother." He says snickering.

Derrick joins in with the laughter as Lola pretends laughing.

***

Heading inside the crowded college bar, Cayenne's, Chase, Lola, and Derrick bypasses several other college students as they reach for an open table. But with many full, it's hard to find one vacant.

Following the guys, Chase catches sight of two attractive sophomores with sorority tattoos etched on their lower exposed back, sitting at the edge of the bar. He soon makes it to a table near the back Derrick found. Willingly to fight for it, Derrick politely pushes one drunk away from Lola.

"Thank you." She reacts a surprised.

"No problem, hopefully we don't end up like that fool." Derrick says. "I'm going to get some Bud Lites." He heads over to the bar.

Chase and Lola glance at the drunk tumbling his way until one of the bartenders acting as a part-time bouncer escorts him outside near the red door. They both have a small chuckle over that, yet Chase turns back to check those same two sorority girls are checking him out and are trying tirelessly to flirt with him. He doesn't even wave them a hello.

Lola watches Chase as she too turns to see the sorority girls trying to flirt.

"Fools." She states unimpressed.

Derrick returns with the three bars and notices the same sorority girls looking over to them, particularly Chase. "What's wrong with you, bro? Go, talk to them."

"Why should I?" Chase won't even budge as he takes one of the bottles and starts drinking.

"If you don't, I would love..." Derrick tries to say it.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" Lola questions curiously.

"I do." Derrick replies. His girlfriend being August, a great biology major and a sweet girl to hang around. The others know Derrick won't be that stupid to cheat on her. And hopes he's not seriously thinking about flirting back with those sorority sisters. Derrick changes the subject regarding his and August's faithful relationship and back to Chase and his inability to have a girlfriend.

Derrick looks to Chase. "Dude, why someone like you don't date."

Chase looks a bit surprised; he hasn't been asked about this. Not trying to hide the fact, Chase opens up.

"I admit I had some minor dates when I was back in high school. The Westbank girls are no joke." As he taps onto the beer bottle, his mind trying to remember why he hasn't been dating. Lola and Derrick want to know. Chase eventually gives them the reason he won't date anymore.

"At prom, I had a date with this girl named Melanie. She was nice, but the next thing I knew. One minute, we were dancing, getting ready to go this ballroom. And suddenly, instead of escorting her to prom, I sent my date to the hospital."