Enobaria POV
Thursday: Art Exhibition (painters, sculptures, sketchers, etc.) – Peeta, Marvel
As much as I didn't want to be in the art exhibition because I was trying to avoid Brutus, I had to support Peeta and Marvel. It was just an exhibition, so I didn't have to deal with any nerves tonight. I looked around the exhibition. Wow, many people were really talented. Marcel sculpted a young ballerina in fifth position with a romantic tutu on. It was beautiful.
As I wandered, my eyes were caught up in Peeta's painting when I glanced at it. I never got to see the last product. He painted me. It was a simple painting of me lying on the grass. My smile was pure happiness, something I'm having trouble with lately. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
I turned around to see Brutus standing behind me. "I didn't know he chose to paint me."
"I did," he said. "I sneaked in a few glances while he was working on it." I stayed silent, but I knew that if I didn't speak, he would bring up the kiss last night. "What is that?"
I looked down to where he was pointing and immediately pulled my sleeve down to cover the bruises on my forearm. "Nothing."
Brutus forcefully grabbed my forearm, making the bruises hurt more than they already were. He brought down my sleeve. "This isn't nothing, Enobaria. What's going on?"
"Let me go," I ordered.
He let go of my forearm and I quickly covered up my bruises. "Tell me what happened," he said in a softer tone. "Was it Jason?"
"What? No," I said. "It wasn't Jason. It was my – it wasn't Jason."
"Was it your dad?" he asked. I didn't dare to move. "Enobaria, that night when I came to your house to work on that project… I saw the mess in your bathroom. What happened?"
"I just had a childish tantrum! It's nothing!" I confessed. "You don't have to worry about it."
"It should be something I should be worried about!" Brutus was so shocked at how much I hid from him all this time. "Baria, all this pressure isn't good for you. You can't handle all of this… You parent's divorce, the auditions. One day, it's going to build up inside of you and just break you."
"Why do you even care?"
"Because I care about you! That's why!" Brutus regretted screaming at me, seeing how my facial expression changed. "Baria, you can tell me anything."
"No, I can't." I turned around without hesitation. I couldn't just tell him anything, it wasn't that simple. I couldn't tell him that my dad got addicted to alcohol after the divorce. I couldn't tell him that my dad came home drunk one night and beat me.