The distinct smell of oil paint and turpentine filled the air. You breathed in deeply with a smile on your face. Boy, had you missed the smell of all of those chemicals. You didn't have the chance to paint at all during the summer because of your summer job, so you were more than eager to get a brush in your hand.
You opened the door to the painting classroom and picked out an easel that you would claim for the rest of the year. The easel—and everything else for that matter, the floor, the walls, the shelves, the sink—was covered in splotches of color. Everything showed a glimpse of all the other artists that shared this space before you.
You were no stranger to this room. You had left your fair share of paint scattered across the room. Although, you couldn't necessarily point out a specific speck, you knew your handiwork was somewhere. It was comforting to know that this room held a piece of you in some way.
Soon your professor began the class and went over the syllabus and general goals for the semester. Being that this was an advanced painting class only for seniors, the overall goal was to work on pieces for your individual art show at the end of the year. You had been looking forward to that art show since freshman year. You constantly ran through different ideas and concepts for pieces you could put in the show and now all of those ideas could become a reality. It was an opportunity to finally showcase your talents without the distraction of other classmates. In a way, it was a chance to prove to the faculty and your classmates that you had grown as an artist over the years. It was definitely a daunting task. Reserving the gallery, installing the paintings, promoting your show, and then actually having people to show up was nothing to laugh at. Not to mention, creating enough artwork to fill an entire gallery space.
You had heard horror stories from previous art students before you who hadn't gotten enough artwork completed and weren't allowed to graduate. It wasn't a surprise that happened to students every year. Being seniors, students were left to their own devices. They were expected to motivate themselves and keep up a consistent schedule to get the work done. You didn't consider yourself to be a lazy person, so that eased your worries.
Your professor ended the class by instructing everyone to bring blank canvases, brushes, and paints to the next class in addition to a few rough ideas for your individual art shows. You already had a million ideas buzzing around in your head and you couldn't wait to bring them to the next class.
You picked up your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. You made your way out of the art building and started walking towards your apartment when you felt your cell phone buzz. You looked down at the notification on the screen.
NAT: Wanna get lunch?
YOU: Sure!
NAT: Meet us at the quad.
YOU: Us?
NAT: Wanda's joining.
YOU: Okay! See you soon.
You shoved your phone in your back pocket and made your way to the main part of campus. Once you reached the quad, you looked around for any sight of your redheaded friend. You saw someone waving their hands frantically and smiled.
"Hey," you greeted.
"Hey," Natasha and Wanda said with smiles as they engulfed you in a hug.
"So, where do you want to eat?" you asked the age old question.
"I know the perfect place," Natasha smirked.
—
"Ugh, this was such a good decision," you groaned into your burger.
"I beg to differ," Wanda grumbled, poking around at the fries on her plate with a fork.
"Burgers are an American classic. What's not to love?" Natasha asked.
"The burgers are fine, it's the people that work here that I have a problem with," she explained.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure you love the waiter more than the burgers," Natasha smirked.
"You knew he worked here, didn't you?" Wanda accused. Natasha just shrugged.
You couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Wanda had been crushing on a guy named Vision ever since freshman year, but never had the courage to make a move. They had the same major and a lot of classes together, so they saw a lot of each other. Natasha pushed her relentlessly, but Wanda never budged.
"C'mon, Wanda. It's our senior year!" Natasha exclaimed. "We have to make it memorable."
Wanda shook her head. "Y/N, help me out here," she pleaded.
"I don't think I can," you shrugged.
"You're right," Natasha said. "You're in the same boat as Wanda."
"What?" you asked through mouthfuls of your burger, your brows furrowing.
"You've spent every year of college so far in that damn art building."
"Yeah, that's where my classes are," you retorted.
Natasha rolled her eyes. "And this year, your final year, you decided to move into an apartment by the art building. Which is a good 20 minute walk from the rest of campus."
"I don't see a problem with that. Most of the senior art students move there their final year," you responded.
"You're so far from the rest of civilization. You're going to be cooped up in that art building all year and miss out on everything else happening on campus," Natasha explained.
"I asked you two if you wanted to move in with me, and you said no, so-"
"We couldn't move out there," Wanda interrupted. "You know who lives over there."
"Art students?" you replied flatly.
"No, the frat boys."
Oh, right. The frat boys. You had momentarily forgotten about all of them. It was the beginning of the school year, so they weren't out in full force yet. But it was true, the apartment you chose to live in for the next year was surrounded by fraternities. They called it "Frat Circle". There were about five fraternities clumped together and your apartment was located in the heart of them. You thought you'd be able to endure living there if it meant you were close to the art building. All you really wanted was to be close enough to your art studio so you could work tirelessly on pieces for your art show.
"Do you remember what happened the last time you went to a frat party?" Natasha asked.
"No, because I've never been to one," you answered.
"Exactly," she responded.
"You're going to die out there," Wanda added.
"Well, I don't plan on interacting with any of them so I'll be fine," you reassured.
"Oh no, no, no," Natasha scolded. "You have to interact with them. How else will you make your senior year memorable?"
"Uhh, I'm pretty sure I can find a couple of ways that don't involve sleazy frat boys," you replied.
"You're no fun," Natasha huffed.
You shrugged nonchalantly and focused on finishing the rest of your burger. Now that the conversation had died down, Natasha and Wanda did the same. You three sat in silence until Natasha spoke up.
"You know, there's got to be at least a hundred guys living over there. Just talk to one. That's all I'm asking."
"Nat-"
"Y/N, I-" she paused. "Listen. I just don't want you to look back years from now and regret not doing more."
You sighed. She was right. You had really only focused on school and didn't do much else up to this point. There was absolutely nothing wrong with focusing on school—that was the whole reason you were at college in the first place. But maybe she was right. If you looked back, would you be disappointed with yourself?
"Fine," you grumbled. "But under one condition."
"Name it."
"Wanda has to talk Vision."
"No-" Wanda whined.
"Deal," Natasha beamed.
—
You were now a couple of weeks into the new school year. Classes had finally picked up and you were extremely busy, but the good kind of busy. It was manageable and not too overbearing. You enjoyed that you could finally get back into the rhythm of school. You were making great progress with your senior art show as well. Your professor had looked over your initial thoughts and ideas and helped you form a cohesive plan. Since you had gotten everything finalized, next week you were allowed to actually start on the paintings for your show. You were just itching with excitement. But that all changed when you opened your email and saw there was an email marked urgent from the art department themselves. That was never, ever a good sign.
You took a deep breath and opened the email, reading it slowly.
Dear Y/N Y/L/N,
We regret to inform you that due to an administrative error, senior art students will no longer be able to have individual art shows at this time. To accommodate the error, we have decided to pair each student up with another student. The faculty and staff have worked hard to match students whose artistic styles and strengths would complement each other.
We are pleased to announce that your partner for your upcoming art show is Steve Rogers. Please reach out to them at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely,
The Art Department
Well, that was a surefire way to ruin your day.
