Jeremy sat on the steps of the high school bleachers, his head bent over his sketchpad. The football team practiced in the distance, the shouts of players and the whistle of the coach blending into the background noise. It wasn't his scene—he preferred the quiet of his own thoughts, the sharp lines of his pencil translating his emotions onto paper.
But lately, even the comfort of drawing couldn't drown out the uncertainty he felt.
Being the youngest in the family came with its own set of challenges. Everyone expected him to be "okay" because he was good at hiding his feelings. After all, Aunt Kate was carrying the weight of keeping their family together, and Jane had her own struggles. Jeremy didn't want to add to their burdens.
But inside, he felt lost.
At school, he drifted through classes, keeping his head down. His teachers often commented on his potential, but Jeremy found it hard to care. His grades were decent, but he wasn't passionate about academics. The only place he felt like himself was in the art room.
Ms. Brittany, the art teacher, had noticed his talent early on. "Your work has soul, Jeremy," she'd said one afternoon, holding up one of his charcoal sketches. "Have you thought about pursuing this seriously?"
He hadn't answered. Pursuing art seemed like a dream, and dreams felt dangerous when you weren't sure if you could reach them.
One day, after staying late in the art room, Jeremy ran into someone unexpected—Andrew. Andrew was leaning against the wall outside the art room, fiddling with the strap of his guitar case.
"Hey," Andrew said, his voice casual.
"Yeah," he nodded
"I have seen your sketches," Ryan continued. "They are cool."
"Thanks," Jeremy mumbled, glancing at the guitar. "You play?"
Ryan grinned. "Yeah. You into music?"
Jeremy shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I listen to stuff, but I'm not... talented or anything."
Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Drawing isn't talent?"
Jeremy smirked despite himself. "Touché."
Over the next few weeks, Andrew and Jeremy became closer both at home and in school, their conversations ranging from art and music to the weirdness of high school. Andrew had a laid-back energy that made Jeremy feel at ease.
It was Andrew who first suggested the idea of combining their talents. "You sketch, I play," he said one afternoon as they sat under a tree in the school courtyard. "We could collaborate on something. Like, I don't know, an album cover or a poster."
Jeremy hesitated. "I don't know if I'm good enough for that."
Andrew gave him a pointed look. "Dude, your sketches are better than half the stuff I have seen online. Stop selling yourself short."
The idea stuck with Jeremy. For the first time in a long time, he felt a spark of excitement—like maybe his art could mean something more than just an escape.
At home, Aunt Kate noticed the change in him.
"You have been smiling more lately," she commented one evening as they cleaned up after dinner.
Jeremy shrugged, but a small grin tugged at his lips. "I guess."
"Does this have anything to do with you and Andrew's closeness recently?" Kate asked, her tone teasing.
"Maybe," Jeremy admitted. "He's cool. Different."
Kate nodded thoughtfully. "It's good to have people who bring out the best in you."
Jeremy didn't respond, but her words stuck with him.
When Ms. Brittany announced an upcoming art competition, Jeremy almost didn't sign up. But Andrew convinced him.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Andrew asked as they hung out in the garage, Andrew strumming his guitar while Jeremy doodled in his sketchbook.
"I don't know," Jeremy replied. "Failing?"
Andrew laughed. "Dude, failing isn't the end of the world. Not trying is worse."
Encouraged Andrew's words, Jeremy submitted a piece—a raw, emotional sketch inspired by his family. It depicted a tree with fractured branches, each one struggling to grow toward the light.
The night of the competition, his family came to support him. Jane nudged him as they stood in front of his piece. "It's amazing, Jeremy," she said, her voice full of pride.
"Yeah, well," he muttered, his cheeks turning red.
When the judges announced his piece as the winner, Jeremy was stunned. For the first time, he felt seen—not just as the youngest in the family, but as someone with his own voice.
The win gave Jeremy the confidence to think bigger. He started applying to art schools and looking for ways to merge his passion with a future. And though the path ahead still felt uncertain, he realized he didn't have to navigate it alone.
With his family's support and Andrew's friendship, Jeremy began to believe in himself.
Jeremy stared at the blank canvas propped up on the easel in the corner of his room. It had been sitting there for weeks, taunting him. Every time he picked up his pencil or paintbrush, he hesitated, the weight of his own expectations holding him back.
He had always used art as a way to escape, a safe place where he could express himself without judgment. But lately, it felt like even that wasn't enough. The encouragement from Ms. Brittany, Andrew, and his family had been uplifting, but it also came with an unspoken pressure—to be someone, to do something meaningful. And Jeremy wasn't sure he was ready for that.
The breaking point came on a Friday evening. Jane and Sebastian were studying at the kitchen table, Aunt Kate was working late at the diner, and Jeremy was supposed to be finishing a project for his art class. Instead, he sat on his bed scrolling aimlessly through his phone, trying to drown out the gnawing sense of inadequacy.
A notification popped up from Andrew:
Andrew: Open mic night at Coffee Haven tonight. Wanna come?
Jeremy hesitated. Open mic nights weren't his thing. But something about Andrew's persistence made him pause.
Jeremy: Not sure.
Andrew: Come on. You'll love it. I'm performing.
Reluctantly, Jeremy agreed.
Coffee Haven was buzzing with energy when Jeremy arrived. The small café was packed with people, the air filled with the hum of conversations and the aroma of coffee. A small stage was set up in the corner, where performers took turns showcasing their talents.
Jeremy spotted Andrew tuning his guitar near the stage. When their eyes met, Andrew waved him over.
"You made it!" Andrew grinned.
"Yeah, well," Jeremy muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Figured I had nothing better to do."
Andrew smirked. "You're gonna love this. Just wait."
As the night went on, Jeremy found himself captivated by the performers. Poets poured their hearts out, singers bared their souls, and musicians played with raw emotion. Each person seemed fearless, unapologetically sharing their art with the world.
When Andrew took the stage, Jeremy felt a flicker of envy. Andrew made it look so easy—strumming his guitar, his voice steady and sure as he sang an original song about finding your place in the chaos of life.
The crowd erupted in applause when he finished, and Jeremy couldn't help but feel a spark of admiration.
After the event, Jeremy and Ryan sat outside on the curb, sipping iced coffees.
"You were amazing up there," Jeremy said, breaking the silence.
Andrew shrugged. "Thanks. But it's not about being amazing. It's about putting yourself out there, you know?"
Jeremy frowned. "What if you fail?"
Andrew looked at him thoughtfully. "You will. Everyone does. But that's how you grow. Hiding doesn't help, man. Trust me."
The words hit Jeremy harder than he expected. He realized he'd been hiding—not just from failure, but from himself.
The next morning, Jeremy woke up with a sense of determination he hadn't felt in months. He pulled the blank canvas from his corner and set it on the easel. This time, he didn't think. He didn't second-guess or plan. He just let the emotions flow.
Hours passed as he worked, his brush sweeping across the canvas in bold, deliberate strokes. The result was unlike anything he'd done before—a chaotic yet beautiful explosion of color, representing the turmoil and hope he carried within him.
When he stepped back to look at it, Jeremy felt a sense of pride. It wasn't perfect, but it was his.
At Ms. Brittany's encouragement, Jeremy submitted the piece to a local art showcase. The night of the event, he stood nervously in the gallery, his hands stuffed in his pockets as strangers examined his work.
"This is incredible," one woman said, turning to him. "The emotion just leaps off the canvas. What inspired it?"
Jeremy hesitated, then smiled. "Life, I guess."
Later, when the judges announced his painting had won second place, after the first one he had won first place then this second place, Jeremy felt a rush of validation. But more importantly, he felt seen.
Jeremy's success at the showcase marked a turning point. He started to see his art not just as an escape, but as a way to connection with others and process his own experiences.
At home, his family noticed the change.
"You seem... lighter," Aunt Kate observed one evening as they sat on the porch.
Jeremy nodded. "Yeah. I guess I'm figuring some stuff out."
Jane leaned over, smirking. "So, does this mean you will paint me something for my birthday?"
Jeremy rolled his eyes but grinned. "We'll see."
With his confidence growing, Jeremy began to explore new opportunities. He applied to an art program at a nearby college, started collaborating with Andrew on creative projects, and even began mentoring younger students in the art club.