Wednesday, Mid-February – Art Room, After School
The room was quiet, except for the soft scratch of pencil against canvas.
Luna Bennett didn't like loud noises. She didn't like crowded spaces or group chats that moved faster than thoughts. But she liked this—
This sound.
This moment.
This quiet.
She sat cross-legged in the corner of the art room, a large mural leaning against the wall in front of her. A full class scene painted in gentle pastels—faces mid-laugh, arms in motion, sunlight trailing across an imagined courtyard.
It looked… happy.
And in the back row—dead center—there was an empty seat.
Luna stared at it.
The outline was there. The shadow, the light, the perspective—all of it. But there was no figure. No smile. Just white space.
She didn't fill it in.
Not today.
Maybe not ever.
One Seat Missing
Everyone else was in the painting.
Tyler, caught mid-jump with a soccer ball under his arm.
Sofia, sitting sideways on a bench, holding a phone like she was livestreaming gossip in real-time.
Emma, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open like she was about to argue with someone. She always looked like that.
Even Amaya—soft posture, fingers wrapped around a thermos, gaze directed at something outside the frame. Maybe someone.
But the middle seat?
Empty.
And Luna couldn't bring herself to colour it's in.
A Few Days Earlier
"Can you draw me with devil horns?" Sofia had joked that Monday, stretching like a cat on her desk. "Or something cool. Like a tiara made of lies."
Luna had blinked slowly, nodded once, and added two tiny devil horns in her sketchbook the next day.
"You're terrifying," Sofia had grinned. "I love it."
They laughed.
But Luna hadn't smiled.
Because every time someone peeked over her shoulder, they never asked—
"Hey, where's Jay?"
No one said it.
But Luna noticed the look on their faces when they saw that space.
Their eyes lingered for one second too long.
Then moved on.
Like he was never there.
Art Club – Hollow Noise
Officially, it was Art Club Day.
But Luna was the only one who actually showed up to draw.
Noah dropped by occasionally, made a big show of posing dramatically, and left after ten minutes saying he had to "find his tragic aesthetic in the hallway mirrors."
Today, even he didn't come.
Luna kept working.
She painted Emma's hair with deliberate strokes. Added light reflecting off Tyler's cleats. Softened Amaya's expression with a bit of pink in the cheeks.
She was almost done.
Almost.
Except for the middle seat.
Flashback: The Last Time She Painted Him
Back in January, before midterms, Luna had made a private sketch of Jay.
She never told anyone. Not even him.
It was just one of those days—he'd been helping Tyler chase down a soccer ball across the courtyard. Laughing, arms wide, ridiculous grin like he was posing for a toothpaste commercial.
So, she drew it.
But halfway through the smile, she stopped.
Because something in his eyes didn't match the rest of his face.
She tore the page out, folded it up, and stuck it between her sketchbook pages.
She still hadn't opened it since.
End of the Session
The art room clock ticked past 5:00 p.m.
Luna stood, stretched her back, and studied the mural one last time.
"Maybe I'll finish it tomorrow," she whispered to no one.
She cleaned her brushes. Dried the palette.
Turned off the lights.
Before leaving, she glanced back one more time at the canvas.
Everyone was there.
Everyone, smiling.
Everyone... except him.
"You're still part of the class," she murmured. "Even if no one says it out loud."
And then she left.