NOTE :
Three years. That's all. Like a video game with only three levels—except the bosses aren't dragons, they're lecturers, assignments, and the cafeteria food that could probably kill you faster than stress.
Our university only ran on a three-year program. Yes, three. Don't argue—it's fiction. Why? No idea. Maybe I wanted to save us from more semesters of torture. Or maybe I just hate math. Either way, welcome to our campus circus."
ONE WEEK LATER
Today was the day Raye knew she really needed her best friend .
And also how wicked Jane was too _ yeah she said it .
Since she wasn't having lecture this morning , Jane had left Raye to sleep it off, until her alarm clock thought it was right to wake her .
She didn't even style her hair , just packed it into a low messy bun .
For goodness sake she was two hours from missing art test today !!!!.
Yes Mrs Hadley wasn't that harsh like Mr William but she still didn't enjoy her student slacking.
Raye didn't even have time to eat , Jane was laughing annoyingly _ and as if that wasn't enough she bought fried chicken .
Knowing fully well ,she wouldn't be there to join in .
Now , she had concluded after little to no thought that her best friend was the worst .
She changed like the weather condition _. There is rain , there is sun , then there is both.
Ugh Raye groaned trying not to think about her stupid morning and focus on the canvas , time was limited .
She had rushed to school , like she had never ever done before !!.
Thankfully , luck did shine on her , she was able to get a taxi and get to school few minutes before the test started .
She was currently in studio 8 where the art student usually take their test .
The test was simple:
"Create a piece that represents 'Balance in Chaos'."
Her art teacher, Mrs. Hadley, had always had a thing for pushing her students out of their comfort zones.
Today was no different.
She stood in front of the class with that familiar smirk, as if this was a game she already knew she'd win.
"Twenty-five minutes," Mrs. Hadley said, handing out a small blank canvas to each student.
"I want to see something that captures the essence of chaos—but with a sense of control. Don't just scribble. Think about composition, form, and meaning. This is about your interpretation, not a technical exercise."
She could feel the usual anxiety start to settle in her chest.
Balance in Chaos.
What did that even mean?!!!
It sounded simple, but Raye could already see how it could go off the rails. She glanced at the clock on the wall.
Her life was a total chaos !!.
She couldn't balance it _ how was she to balance chaos in a canvas .
The timer started with an obnoxiously loud beep, and Mrs. Hadley's eyes flickered to the clock.
"You have 25 minutes. And no distractions," she warned, leaving the room.
Raye's mind went blank for a moment.
How was she supposed to represent chaos without just throwing random shapes on a canvas? She knew the assignment wasn't about literal chaos, but more about translating the feeling of it.
Frustrating.
She hated art assignments that felt like they required her to feel something.
Raye picked up her brush and began painting the canvas a dark, murky red.
She swirled it in quick strokes, the motion almost too aggressive. But it was only the beginning, right? This would represent the chaos.
Then came the black lines—thin, jagged, almost like cracks spreading through the surface.
The beginning of structure, of something breaking apart.
She painted quickly, but not without thought.
Balance in chaos.
That's what she had to capture. A few well-placed, strategic circles interrupted the jagged lines, forcing her eye to move in unexpected ways.
Disruption.
Balance.
Control.
She glanced at the clock again. 15 minutes left.
Raye dipped her brush into a shimmering gold paint. A line of gold, winding like a river, cut through the chaotic red and black, almost delicate—too delicate for everything else.
But that was the point, right? To find beauty in the madness? The gold was the order trying to hold it all together, but barely. It made the chaos feel... delicate.
But was it enough? Was this "balance" in the right place? She stared at it, getting frustrated.
No.
Something was missing.
She needed more weight.
More tension.
With five minutes left, she picked up her biggest brush and smeared a thick coat of white across the edges of the gold, softening it, blurring it into the red and black.
It was messy.
It was imperfect.
But it was something—something between control and abandonment.
The timer beeped again, loud and unforgiving.
Raye sighed, wiping her hands on her apron, studying the canvas. She didn't know if she was entirely happy with it, but it felt like it was... close.
She placed her brush down and waited for Mrs. Hadley to come by and judge her work.
Mrs. Hadley returned with exactly twenty seconds left on the timer, heels clicking lightly against the tiled floor like punctuation marks.
She didn't say a word as the timer beeped, signaling the end.
She began walking past each desk, her arms folded, her expression unreadable—the same expression she wore during critique days, the kind that made every student question their life choices.
When she reached Raye's table, she paused.
Her eyes lingered on the canvas for no more than five seconds.
Maybe six.
Then she gave the faintest nod, her brows arching slightly like she was intrigued but refusing to admit it out loud.
"Hmm," she murmured, tapping one red-painted nail against the edge of the desk. "Unexpected restraint... for you."
That was all she said before moving on to the next student.
Raye stared after her, lips twitching somewhere between confusion and annoyance.
What was that supposed to mean?
Was that a compliment? An insult? Some kind of reverse psychology?
She looked down at her painting again.
Balance in chaos.
And somehow, even her teacher's comment fit right into that theme .
She poured her whole feeling into this _ her life was chaotic so she just chanelled it to the canvas .
And all she got was ....unexpected restraint from you .
Raye huffed loudly tossing her handkerchief on the table she sat back down on the long stool , hands crossed with very grim expression .
Mrs. Hadley drifted pass a few more students with vague comments—"Too safe," "Interesting use of space," "Next time, less glitter"—until she stopped at Evan's table.
Raye didn't mean to look. She told herself not to care. But her eyes darted over anyway.
Evan sat with his usual calm smugness, one hand propping up his head while the other casually twirled a brush between his fingers.
His canvas looked... weird.
Stark white background, tangled black lines in one corner, and a single blue circle dead center. It looked like a failed logo. Or a map made by someone emotionally repressed.
Mrs. Hadley paused longer than she had for Raye. Her lips pressed together in what looked dangerously close to approval.
"Hmm," she said, tapping a finger on her chin. "Minimalism with tension. Risky, but... it works."
Evan gave a slight shrug, like he wasn't surprised.
Raye's jaw tensed.
Risky? It works? What part of that existential doodle screamed balance or chaos? He hadn't even looked stressed.
Meanwhile, she was fighting an emotional war with red paint.
A girl named Lisa who had a very bad habit of blowing gum in people's ear, leaned over and whispered, "Are we looking at the same mess?"
Raye didn't answer. She just gritted her teeth and muttered under her breath, "He probably hypnotized her with a thesaurus."
Evan didn't glance at her, but the side of his mouth curled—just a little.
He heard her.
Of course he did .