Luka stared at the canvas in front of him, not really seeing it. His hands moved, but they were just going through the motions. The lines were too messy. The colors felt wrong. He couldn’t get it to look like what he wanted, not like the way it used to be.
This one was supposed to be different. It was supposed to mean something. But it wasn’t. It was just... a mess. Like everything else.
His phone buzzed. A message from his manager: “Oliver’s coming to your exhibit today. Don’t screw this up.”
Luka’s stomach twisted. Oliver. Of course, he was coming. Luka hadn’t seen him in forever. Not really. He’d heard about his life on Instagram, and seen all the perfect posts about how amazing everything was. Oliver, the influencer, who always had everything figured out. Who wasn’t... him?
Luka looked back at the half-finished painting. It was supposed to be about someone. Someone who used to matter. Someone who had left.
The door creaked open.
“Hey, Luka. Ready for today?” Oliver’s voice was so... casual. Like nothing had changed. Like they were still the same people. Luka couldn’t stand it.
Oliver stepped into the studio, his smile so wide and warm. His hair was perfectly styled, his clothes all trendy and expensive, the kind of stuff Luka could never afford. And yet here he was, standing in front of him, acting like they were still... well, whatever they were before everything went wrong.
“Yeah,” Luka said, trying to keep his voice steady, “Everything’s set up.”
Oliver looked around the room, nodding at the paintings. Luka could feel him looking at the one on the easel, the one with the figure walking away. Luka hated it. He hated that it was so obvious.
“Your art’s good, Luka,” Oliver said, his voice a little quieter, like he was being serious for once. But Luka could see through it. He knew what Oliver’s life looked like now. Instagram posts about sunsets and coffee shops, traveling, and smiling. Like everything was perfect. Like they were perfect.
Luka swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
There was a pause. Oliver shifted uncomfortably like he was trying to figure out what to say next. “This one... it’s different,” Oliver said, walking closer to the unfinished painting. “Who’s it about?”
Luka felt a lump in his throat. He didn’t want to say it. He couldn’t. “It’s just... someone important,” he mumbled, turning away.
The silence stretched between them, and Luka could feel the weight of the unspoken words in the air. Oliver was still standing there, looking at him like he expected Luka to explain himself. But Luka couldn’t. He couldn’t say Eliot’s name. Not out loud. Not in front of Oliver.
It wasn’t fair. How could everything just keep moving on, and Luka was stuck? His art was stuck. His feelings were stuck. And nothing ever seemed to change.
Oliver finally sighed, breaking the tension. “I should go. You’re probably busy.”
Luka nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you at the exhibit.”
Oliver hesitated for a second, then turned and walked out of the room. Luka could hear his footsteps fade down the hallway, but the emptiness he left behind stayed. Luka let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He shouldn’t have let it get to him. But it did.
He walked over to the painting, staring at it again. The figure walking away. It looked so... lonely. That was how Luka felt. So, so lonely.
His phone buzzed again. A message from his boss: “Get to the gallery in 30 minutes. Client wants the final drawing done. Eliot’s coming in to approve it. Make sure it’s perfect.”
Luka froze. Eliot. Of course.
Eliot. The businessman. The one who didn't talk to him anymore. The one who had moved on while Luka stayed stuck in the past. Luka had heard about him through mutual friends how he’d become so successful, running businesses and making money, living a life Luka could never be part of.
But today? Today, Eliot was coming to approve his work.
Luka wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. He didn’t know if he could face him. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t over any of it. But there was no choice.
Luka shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his coat, the air thick in his chest as he walked out of his studio.
When he got to the gallery, everything felt too bright. Too loud. Too perfect. The place was full of people, all pretending like they had their lives together. But Luka felt like he didn’t belong here, not with them. Not with all their shiny smiles and perfect lives.
Then he saw him.
Eliot was standing across the room, talking to the client. He was dressed in a sharp suit, looking like he owned the world. Like he didn’t care that Luka was standing there, trying to pretend like it didn’t hurt to see him.
Luka’s heart skipped a beat, and for a second, he felt like a kid again, back in school. Like everything was wrong. Like everything hurt.
Eliot didn’t notice him at first, and Luka felt a flash of anger. They used to be everything to each other. And now... now, they were nothing.
When Eliot finally turned and looked at him, their eyes met, and Luka felt like everything around him just stopped.
But Eliot didn’t smile. He didn’t wave. He didn’t even recognize him. Luka looked away before he could see the pity in Eliot’s eyes, or worse nothing at all.
Luka had to focus. He had to finish the drawing. It was for the client. It was for his career. But the truth was, no matter how hard he tried, nothing could make the pain of seeing Eliot again go away.
The past never really left. It just... waited.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtdU2b1Z6OW
