Axel
Since I was five years old, according to my mother, I already showed talent for painting.
I was always labeled as a creative child who lived immersed in his own magical world. A world that was visible to others through my childish yet interesting drawings.
This, of course, helped me excel in elementary school, where I was supported by teachers who encouraged me to constantly participate in art competitions, which I began winning when I turned eight years old.
By the time I started high school, where I caught the attention of the principal, who in a nutshell praised my name when I began winning art competitions on behalf of the school, I aroused feelings of envy in a group of kids who simply didn't like me.
This led me to face attempts at bullying that ended in fights in which both my aggressors and I ended up hurt every time I defended myself.
Dad, who didn't like the situation and noticed that the teachers' union didn't do anything about it because they took into account that I also fought, enrolled me in a mixed martial arts and boxing gym.
That's why during my teenage years I also invested time in training in karate, judo, boxing, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu, because my father claimed that, although I was doing the right thing by defending myself against bullying attempts, my defense wasn't very good, to say the least.
Despite the minor difficulties I faced during my adolescence, my artistic talent remained intact, so when I graduated from high school, I received a recommendation for the University of Río Grande—the only university offering a degree in Arts.
At university, beyond standing out with my paintings and being labeled a prodigy, I learned new concepts about art, which is why I also improved my techniques.
It was a time when I learned to create works with a professional finish and a unique style that caught the attention of the National Institute of Arts.
Thus, thanks to my good grades at university and my talent, I obtained a scholarship from the National Institute of Fine Arts after submitting a work as a test, which impressed the members of the board of directors.
When my parents heard the news, they didn't hesitate to support me, although it posed a slight challenge, since in order to accept the scholarship, I had to move to Esperanza city, the country's capital and home to the National Institute of Arts.
Mom didn't want to let me go when I was so young.
At the time I was nineteen and felt capable of taking care of myself, but I guess his overprotective instinct didn't allow him to make a quick decision.
Dad, for his part, was worried about the money he would have to spend on rent and daily expenses, because at that time, although we lived well, we didn't have enough money to cover my stay in Esperanza City.
I understood both of them and even accepted the idea of accepting the scholarship as an impossibility, but, in the end, Dad and Mom accepted the sacrifice of letting me go, which was one of the best decisions they made.
As time went by, when I arrived in Esperanza City, the first thing I did was settle into a cheap apartment and consider looking for a job.
The city seemed wonderful to me, although not as impressive as I imagined.
Maybe I wasn't motivated by the idea of getting to know the area, but rather by pursuing professional training as a graduate in Arts.
Anyway, a week after settling into the city and keeping in daily contact with my parents to let them know I was going to be okay, I attended my first day as a student at the National Institute of Arts.
That morning, following the itinerary I received by email, I headed to the renowned institute, which was located in a building within a huge university complex.
Never in my life have I seen so many students concentrated in one place.
Groups of all kinds hung around campus, so the fear I felt about not fitting in disappeared.
Then, I arrived at the institute building, which to my amazement also served as the university faculty.
The difference between the institute and the faculty was that we focused on a perspective of art governed by expressiveness and creativity, while the faculty members followed theoretical trends related to the great artists of art history.
Thanks to that information, which I obtained from an information board, I felt excited and anxious to begin my new academic phase, although also fearful of the challenges I set for myself as an aspiring artist, since I had to be the best if I wanted to stand out.
So, I approached a group of students gathered at the entrance of a classroom, which I found striking, since the rest of them were wandering around the hallway, ignoring those people.
Then, upon identifying the room number, I remembered that the itinerary stated that I would receive a welcome talk there from the institute's director.
So I headed to the classroom at a leisurely pace, considering I had plenty of time, and thought of a presentation that would allow me to stand out from the first day, although that idea was discarded when I caught a whiff of that delicious perfume.
The one who passed me by, along with another group of students, was Miranda Ferrer, that girl with a furrowed brow and an air of self-sufficiency that I misinterpreted for a few seconds.
She, who noticed my presence and was staring at her, gave a beautiful smile and kindly asked me if I was lost.
In fact, all the information I had obtained on my own, when I told her I was a scholarship recipient, he repeated it to me with greater detail and a patience that I admired.
"Come, we must attend a welcome talk," she said, pointing at the room and flashing a beautiful smile.
"Yes, of course… Thank you" I replied, my heart beating rapidly as I tried to hide my nervousness.
That's how I met Miranda, with whom I entered the room where there were only ten students while the director of the National Institute of Arts gave us the welcome talk.
♦♦♦
My second meeting with Miranda took place the following day, at a welcoming meeting for the university's incoming students and the selection of scholarship recipients from the National Institute of Arts.
She sat down next to me and gave me a charming smile, which I reciprocated, although I got nervous when she stared at me.
Something that impressed me about his gaze was the beautiful grayish blue of his eyes, which gave them an intensity that made you believe he was able to read your mind when he stared at you.
"Hi, Axel Lamar," she whispered as she greeted me.
I looked at her sideways in amazement and joy, knowing that she had paid attention to my presentation the day before.
"Hello, Ana Ferrer," I replied politely.
She frowned for a few seconds, but then suddenly smiled and closed the distance a little.
"You know, yesterday I snuck into the principal's office and saw the information about the new scholarship recipients. You're the only one, besides me, who's going for a degree in Arts" she revealed.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yes, the others are aiming for a degree in Performing Arts" she replied.
"I didn't mean that, but rather the fact that you sneaked into the principal's office," I clarified.
"Ah, that was easy. The director is very absent-minded," she said sarcastically; I let out a short, subtle laugh.
After that, we remained silent, as part of the dean's talk focused on the scholarship recipients from the National Institute of Arts.
In short, what the dean said was that we could roam freely around campus and have full access to the university library.
"Hey, Axel Lamar," Miranda said after the dean's speech to the scholarship recipients ended. "I'm glad we'll be in the same class."
"I'm glad too, and I hope we can get along very well," I replied.
The smile Miranda flashed captivated me, and although I wasn't aware that what I felt at that moment was love at first sight, I made it my mission to treasure that beautiful girl who offered me, from our first meeting, her friendship.
"By the way, Axel Lamar, how about we go for a coffee?" he suggested.
"You can just call me Axel, and of course, that would be great" I replied.
"Then let's go".
Miranda took my hand to lead me out of that auditorium we'd sneaked out of. Her action was so sudden that I didn't even have time to object.
Once we were outside, I thought about calling out her boldness, but since I was getting bored in there, I opted to keep quiet and follow her.
"Axel Lamar, I'll call you by your first name only on one condition," she said suddenly as we walked out of the main university building.
"And that would be it?" I asked.
"Call me Miranda instead of Ana," she replied.
I was confused by such a request, but I had no reason to object, so I agreed.
"I didn't consider telling you yesterday, but my name is Ana Miranda Ferrer. I like my middle name, so I'm asking you to call me that" she said.
"Both names are beautiful," I replied.
"I'm also from Cristal port… I'm eighteen years old, and I love sculpture," she commented, confusing me. "I'm telling you this because I saw your personal information yesterday. I'm sorry about that, although we're even."
I just smiled at his words, finding the moment of embarrassment he showed a little tender.
"So, what are you going to do after you get your degree?" I asked.
"I want to pursue a master's degree in sculpture and become one of the best sculptors in the country," she replied with determination. "And you?"
"For now, I'll settle for a degree, but if I find an opportunity to improve my skills, I'll take it," I replied.
"You can do a master's degree in painting. That's a good option for you," she argued.
"Yes, but staying here for that long would be expensive for my parents, so I have to think carefully before making any decisions. The ideal thing for now is to get a bachelor's degree and look for a job to ease the financial burden they have with me. Later, I'll see if I can consider getting a master's degree," I replied.
"I understand," she muttered with a hint of distress.
"Did I say something wrong?" I asked.
"No, but I apologize for suggesting something without knowing your situation," he replied. "Unlike you, I'm lucky enough to come from a financially stable family, so I thought you were just like me."
"Don't worry. I'm glad you suggested it, because it can motivate me to achieve my goals and make my parents proud," I said with determination.
With those words, Miranda seemed to regain her good mood, so we eventually arrived at a French-themed bookstore-café where we became regular customers from then on.
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Greetings readers! I hope you're doing well today.
I'm so excited to bring you the first chapter of "As If It Were Always Autumn," which I hope you enjoy and help me share...
I also appreciate you leaving your impressions in the comments section, as I'd love to know what you think of this chapter.
I remind you that, as a Spanish speaker, I understand almost no English. Therefore, I'm using a virtual translator to bring you this story.
That said, thank you so much for reading and supporting... See you in the next chapter.