Golden

Ten Days ago.

The classroom was almost empty. Thin teal stripes shining out of the palette slathered with paint. Sami looked at his almost complete portrait of a dainty family, unsatisfied he lets a sigh, aimlessly mixing colors with his brush.

"Straight to another painting huh?"

Oliver, one of his two friends said as they entered the painting room.

"This is for the mid term huh?" Shawn asked him. Sami replied with a doubtful nod.

"What's wrong with the painting?" Oliver asked.

"I'm not sure." Sami replied.

"Looks good to me. You must be tried from the spring competition."

Shawn reassured him, while Oliver was observing the painting.

"Yeah, plus no one submitted mid-term paintings yet so you still good." Oliver added.

"Actually someone finished."

Shawn points to a painting in the back of the class. A fallen leaf in a forest, sunshine hitting it.

"If you're stuck why not ask the person who finished? "Oliver suggested.

"Nah, they probably won't help; the atmosphere is getting very competitive... Wait Isn't this guy you neighbor or something?"

Shawn recalled as he looked closer at the finished painting, cutting himself off when he saw the name in the corner of the painting.

"Really? then just ask him, man."

"No, we don't talk."

Sami said with a little troubled smile.

"Y'all had a fight or something?"

"No, he just never talks to me, when I call to him he gives me a nasty said eye and continue his day."

"I see." They said , not pressing any further.

"How's your architecture project going?" Sami asked Oliver, changing the subject.

"Barely submitted before deadline, pre usual." Oliver chuckled with a shrug.

He scratches his head, not proud. The friends chat for a minute before someone opens the door. Ryu entered the class, walking towards the dirty brushes, checking the cleaning duty list before picking up the bucket of semi-hard brushes.

Oliver smiled cheekily, calling out to Ryu.

"Hey, what do you think this painting is lacking?" He asked, pointing at Sami's painting.

"Hey.." Sami greeted, almost whispering. Awkwardly.

Ryu gave him a dry side eye. Shifting his eyes he observe the painting for a stingy moment.

"It's fine technique wise." He told before leaving the room.

"He really don't like you." Oliver chuckled benignly, following him outside.

"Is it true that there were only 6 men in y'all village in the countryside?" Oliver asked. 

Ryu counted with his eyes for an instance.

"Yeah, more or less."

"Oh wow, so is it weird for y'all here in the city?"

Ryu just nodded with a negative. He almost told him that he used to go to the near village where more men lived but that was too much words.

In the cleaning room Ryu put the bucket on a counter and poured the cleaning solution in tray with a rack on top to hold every brush up right. Oliver attention shifts on the ivory artificial limp peeking above the silly egg patterned socks.

"Can I ask when did you get these?" Oliver's chatty causal tone shifted.

Ryu stared at Oliver's healthy foot in his sandals.

"Not me dude, my sister is getting the surgery soon, she is eight."

His tone flickers for a moment when he mentioned her age, too small for a major surgery.

"Walking will hurt in the first ten days or so, if you avoid any infection it will be fine, doctors will do the maintenance in the first year but then she will have to do it on her own. It's early for that though."

He spoke as he cleaned the brushes as if he is talking to himself. Eyes focusing on the task.

"That's all?"

He asked with some regained relief.

Ryu scrapes off a stubborn piece of dry paint with his thumb, recollecting information from a long time.

"Pain at night common in the first year or so." He looked up the sink.

"Oh, gotta stock up on cough syrup then."

"It won't work. The anesthesia for these surgeries are so strong that sedatives and cough syrup doesn't work"

"Forever? "

"My doctor said a decade or two, even alcohol doesn't have any effects for some people."

"So you don't get drunk? "

"Dunno, never tried it."

"Really?"

"Why you are here anyway?" Ryu realized he was stuck with a chatty person.

"Oh right, meant to ask you something else, do y'all really never talked? You and Sami?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Cause I hate him." Ryu deadpanned.

He put the rack of clean brushes on another counter with the sign 'drying brushes' on it. He took the glass chain and wears his glasses to check off the cleaning list on the wall.

"Dude just get your vision correcte- oh, Can't get sedated. Wait why you hate him? What happened between you two."

He was really stuck with a chatty person.

"Nothing. I just hate him."

"Come on, That can't- "

The vibration accompanying the change in color of the bar on top of the door caught him off, indicating the start of a new class period.

"Well, that was convenient." Ryu said as he slips out of the room.

"Ah, see you later."

"Please don't. I don't want his friends near me."

"Nah, I came to like you. Let's hang out another time."

He said while walking passing him in the corridor, almost running to catch the class. 

Later in the oddly cooler afternoon, big flowers covered the stage, top to ground. Bunch of people in fancy clothes clapped as Sami got on stage, taking his award for winning the best young painter. He bowed for the crowd. His heart beats in his ears like angry drums. He was smiling and thanking and nodding to people he doesn't know in the award after party.

He looked at his advisor Andre, to see if there is a chance to leave early. Unfortunately he seemed in an important conversation with a noble lady, seemingly making another deal.

"Great news, Lady Amalita wants a portrait of her and her close friends. This party was worth it. "

The advisor said as they were walking out to the main street, bit far from the gate to the award ceremony. Sun is almost down.

"What about the mid term?"

"Still plenty of time for that, you will manage"

Sami agreed in a faint hum. The advisor continued talking.

"You are aware that your career has already started? If you don't get work now you will not get commissions after you graduate. Don't waste your talent."

"...Yes teacher." 

'He is right, everyone is fighting to sell their art. It's not the time to take a breather.' He thought.

In Paper street, where each villa has a dome or two. People on their engraved colorful bicycles instead of public magnetic transportation. The huge awnings that covers almost everywhere gets pulled back automatically. Evening sky is visible again. 

He stand in front of the entrance of one villa, looking hesitant he walked up the cream stone stares like it's the first time. New temporary room, fragment of the original temporary place brought comfort, or a ghost of it.

He laid on the bed, lightly holding the trophy. The barrel-vaulted ceiling gave enough soothing to let him close his eyes. 

The president enters the room after knocking lightly on the ajar door.

"Wake up kid, have some dinner first."

"I was resting my eyes." He explained, sitting up.

"That's what we say before sleeping, come on let's eat, don't wanna eat alon- be careful, you could hurt yourself." She caught herself off when her eyes laid on the trophy on the blanket, pointy tip disguised in the folds of fabric.

"Oh... yeah, Thank you."

She looked at the couple trophies on the shelf as he added the new addition with heavy sleepy limps.

"You never managed to bury what bugs you with being busy. That just drains you even more." She smiled with sadness in her eyes.

He hummed with a tired smile as a response.

On the enormous dark marble table the two were eating.

"The paperwork got done this morning." The president told him, looking at her food.

"...Thank you." 

"I wish I can tell you not to take it to heart. But I can say it's not your fault. You were unlucky in a messy adoption. It's not working out isn't your responsibility alone." She says while putting some more food in his plate. 

He doesn't say anything.

Deep in the night, Saturn shaped objects floated in the sky, passing the shining stars and what's left from the moon. He was wide awake. Sketching for a new painting, the sound of the pencil scrabbling resembled a muffled scream somehow, not that anyone can hear it. 

'I wish... I wis-' The thoughts in head were sharply interrupted by an old paper scroll appearing out of thin air. He jumped backward, startled. The sketch book was thrown on the floor. Looking left and right as if he is in a strange place, but it was his room just like it was seconds ago.

The paper scroll opened, causing him to flinch. He walked closer to it with a shaky steps as if it will pounce on him any moment. Close enough yet not too close he read the text embedded in it. 

~ Remaining points: 100 

Instructions:

1- Be careful what you wish for.

2- To avoid calamities, Please make sure your wish is as precise as possible. Note that a wish can not be undone.

3- The more you desire something the more points it will cost.

4- A whish will not spawn for something you do not desire or being forced upon you. 

5-Be careful what you wish for.

Enjoy! ~

"What is this? There is no way that's real." He whispered to himself, sweating. 

~ It is. ~

A text appeared on the paper, he almost jumped again.

~ In case of unreadiness, please call another time. ~ 

"What is this?" 

~ I am your wishes dashboard. ~

He sat on the bed, zoning out. Eyes travelling between the furniture and the streets in the window back to the furniture again. Then to his paint smudged nails.

His eyes landed on the sketch book, his focus came back. The memory of the last days in the atelier, painting class, competition. Everything blended in soup of thought.

He took a small, weak sigh.

"You know, sometimes I wish for it all to disappear."

The paper roll closed and started shaking in the air for a while. Eventually opening up again with a new text.

~ #Error 404

Wish too big. Points not enough. 

As much art as possible will disappear with 100 points. ~

"No, no no no! That's not what I meant!" He almost yelled in panic, sweating, mouth dry.

The paper roll disappeared, And he fell on the ground.