Chapter 118: The Exhibition Day
Jasmine’s POV
I should feel sleepy.
I should be tired and worn out.
But somehow, I can’t bring myself to feel that way. More like, my system is too alert to want to shut down.
For someone that painted until dawn and didn’t get a wink of sleep, I look pretty alive.
And I am glad that I don’t look like someone that went through all that.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I give my carefully planned black dress one quick glance, before smoothing out the non-existent creases.
Just trying to do anything to calm me down.
This is the day.
I can’t overemphasize how much I have been waiting, planning, and praying for this day, but the fear that it could go worse is sickening.
“Princess…” Xav’s voice sounds behind me, soft and gentle, before his large arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into his warmth.
A small smile rests on my lips, while I tilt my head to hold his gaze.
“I envy this dress.” He starts, resting his chin on my shoulder, and I instantly quirk my brow at him. “It hugs you so perfectly.”
I let out a scoff, before trying to push myself away from him, but obviously, it was futile.
“And you pay so much careful attention to it that it hurts.” He whines, trailing soft kisses down my neck.
“I won’t deny that.” I say, a smirk forming at the corner of my lips, contrasting the huge storm brewing inside me.
A little pause passes between us, and from the mirror, I can feel Xav’s eyes peering into mine, like he can read my soul.
Almost immediately, he turns me until we are facing each other.
He knows.
He understands me so much that it’s really hard to hide anything from him.
“Breathe, Princess, breathe.”
As if under a spell, I inhale long enough that it almost chokes me, before letting it out.
It doesn’t calm my wrecking nerves one bit, but oddly, it just feels good.
“I haven’t seen your new painting, but I can swear that it is perfect…” I shake my head instantly, about to cut him off, but he beats me to it. “And today will go so well, it would be a dream come true.”
I’m sure he can tell that I don’t believe his words, but he still continues.
“And if you don’t believe in this, at least have faith in my words, and your skills.”
With his finger, he lifts my face until I am holding his gaze.
“I love you.”
For a second, I just stand there, staring into his beautiful eyes. The sincerity, the charm, the genuine care, everything is too obvious to not notice.
“And I want you to know that everything will go well.”
My eyes burn with tears, but I can’t ruin my makeup and start the day badly.
He leans in to take my lips, wrapping his hand at the back of my neck to get a better taste.
I close my eyes, and for once, pretend that I am actually okay. That my main painting for this event didn’t get destroyed some days before, and I don’t have to present a rushed one instead.
That my mind hasn’t gone through several worst case scenarios.
But right now, all I see is him, even with closed eyes.
And for this one second, I genuinely feel good.
He pulls back, and I miss his warmth instantly.
“Good luck, my princess.”
Standing next to my now displayed painting, I wipe my sweaty hands on my dress for the millionth time.
My eyes scan the hall again, just as they have since I got here.
I knew this was a big event for our faculty, but I still wasn’t expecting this much of a turnout. It feels like the whole school, including their families and extended ones, are here, and I am not exaggerating.
I have attended many final exhibitions since I got admitted here, but this one is undeniably the biggest.
And it doesn’t make me feel any better, instead, I just want to run away from here.
I don’t know if I am being paranoid, but my coursemates, who are already aware of my misfortune, keep giving me sympathetic glances, and the fear that it could be because of the rushed painting I brought as a replacement gnaws at me.
Just like every other finalist art student, I am standing next to my painting, smiling and welcoming everyone that passes by or stops to look.
Some hummed, some gave compliments, some even took pictures, but none of that made me feel any better.
Even my lecturers came to drop some positive comments, but it just felt like I was being pitied.
“My babyyyyy.” My mom’s voice instantly makes me look up. I never gave a fuck about who came to see my painting or not, but seeing her here gives me a mix of strong emotions.
“Your painting is so beautiful. I love, love this.” She exclaims, hugging me tightly, and I can only force a smile.
“You came.” I start, as we pull out of the hug. “Thank you for coming, mom.”
“I wouldn’t miss this day for anything.”
“How is Timothy?” I ask with a smile, a little surprised at how effortless it was to ask about my brother.
“I brought him.” My eyes widen slightly, my smile spreading. “He’s with his favorite uncle. Xavier.”
Of course it’s Xavier.
Finally, her brows crease in confusion as she stares at the painting, as if only now realizing it was different from the one I showed her on FaceTime.
But she doesn’t say anything. Now I’m curious to know what assumption she’s made to explain this, but I don’t say anything either.
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Okay, mom.”
“Your painting is really beautiful.” She repeats, before adding quietly, “And unique.”
I give her a knowing look, before watching her disappear into the crowd.
For a brief second, my eyes catch Bella’s, and she just looks away like she’s annoyed about something.
Oh well. I have bigger things to think about than that.