“They say that an Artist’s work is most often an outward expression of their inner selves, so how then will we capitalise on our unique artistry if we do not attempt to know ourselves? ‘Self-portrait’. That is the theme for your end-of-year assessment. I want you all to really dig deep. Explore. Show me your most authentic selves...”

>>>>

I settled into the comfy armchair at the school’s cafe and sipped my iced hazelnut latte. If there was one thing I was really pumped about in my campus, it was that it had a huge two-storey hipster cafe that served great drinks and food. It was like an artist’s dream home with its mismatched - but comfy - furniture, paintings and sculptures. Many of which were created by the students themselves. Its eclectic mix of colours and textures reminded me of a lovingly dysfunctional family - weird, but somehow all belonging together.

I took out my sketchbook from my paint-stained satchel and opened it to a fresh page. I wrote the words ‘self portrait’ at the top and then just below in bold caps, ‘WHO AM I?’. I nibbled the end of my wooden pencil and stared at the page.

“Luce! LUCE! Lucine!”

A petite girl with pixie-like features and short pastel-pink hair plopped into the chair opposite me. Lounging in the chair between me and her was a tall, lanky boy with too many piercings to count. His hair was shaved on one side and the rest of his long brown hair was swooped to the other side and tied into a messy plait. Rachel and Taynese, my two best friends.

We’d known each other since high school and had gone through thick and thin together. In our second year, we had unanimously decided to train together and apply to get into the same Art College, albeit different schools. Rachel was enrolled in the School of Media, Taynese was studying in the School of Fashion Design and I was part of the School of Fine Arts.

“Hey Tay, get Lucine’s attention for me.”

“Give it up Rach. Ya know she’s as bright as a brick when she’s focused.”

“I heard that... Asshole.”

“Mm-hmm girl and don’t they love it.” Taynese winked mischievously as he stole a sip of my drink.

“Eww. TMI Taynese.”

“Urgh, not as eww as this drink, Lucie. Did a sugar fairy just up and die in your coffee or do ya just like gearing up for them diabetes?”

“If you guys were in my shoes, you’d find ways to fill yourselves with caffeine and sugar too. I don’t know how I’d function in school otherwise.”

“Are ya functioning? I mean ya even got yourself this huge-ass bruise on ya arm.”

“What? Where?”

I was wearing a black crew neck tee with the sleeves ripped off. It was loose, baggy and hid all my curves. It was one of my favourite tops. Its tired appearance with all the worn-out holes and paint stains on them somehow felt like an outward expression of me.

I checked my arms and found a reddish-purple bruise forming across my upper left arm.

“Huh. I must’ve walked into a wall or something without noticing. I’ve just been so tired lately.” I rubbed at the bruise absent-mindedly.

Where did I get this bruise from?

“Lucie are you still not sleeping? Hasn’t it been like two or three months already?” Rachel’s bright green eyes channeled worry.

“Yup.”

“Girl, ya should’ve taken an off day if ya were going be this whacked out.”

“You know I can’t afford to miss anymore classes. I’ve already missed a few this term because of those stupid doctor’s appointments.”

“I’m sure the board wouldn’t take away your scholarship just because of a few days off. I mean, you’ve got legitimate reasons!”

“Pretty sure nightmares don’t count as legitimate reasons, Rach.”

Liedman Academy of the Arts was a prestigious college consisting of ten ‘schools’ that focused on different art forms. Regardless of the school, the Academy was known for their robust and comprehensive curricula. Its facilities were top-notch and their teaching staff were well-renown in their respective fields. In addition to that, Liedman Academy was known for producing many of the world’s top artistes.

Due to its impressive reputation, every year, the Academy received hundreds of thousands of applications from around the world. Out of those, they accepted only a mere hundred per school, and out of that cohort’s one thousand students, only ten were offered a full scholarship for the year. One from each school.

And somehow, I had been that one.

During my admissions interview, the board had told me that they were impressed with my portfolio and with how well I had done in the admissions examination. So, in addition to my acceptance into Liedman, they were awarding me their highly exclusive full scholarship for the year. Albeit with conditions. Some of the conditions were maintaining a ninety-five percent attendance rate and an above four point GPA throughout the year.

The board had stressed to me that there were termly checks, and if any of these conditions were not met, the scholarship would be immediately revoked and given to someone else. They had also informed me that the scholarship would be reviewed annually and would then be given to the top student of the class.

After all - as the director had said to me pointedly - their scholarship was a reward and an incentive to remain competitive, not a charity.

I did a quick calculation in my head and figured with the number of absences I currently had, I was hovering at about a ninety-six percent attendance rate.

I can’t lose this scholarship.

I let out a deep sigh, and fiddled with the band of my watch. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Being my closest friends, they knew to take a hint.

In an almost one-eighty mood swing, Rachel sat cross-legged and leaned forward with a grin on her face.

“You guys, listen! You’ll never guess what happened to me the other day!”

Taynese and I shared a knowing look.

“Ya had your fortune told.”

“You saw a medium.”

“Ya had your cards read.”

“You called up a psychic.”

“Wait, wait, what? Why’d the two of you assume all that?”

“Girl, ya about the only one that’s just as cray cray for the occult as I am for boys.”

“Okay, that’s true, but no! That’s not what happened. You know, I’ve been trying to get it together, what with my parents divorce and all, so I met this guy who’s like what they call a life coach. He’s like -”

“Oh. Mah. God. Rachel, honey. How much money did he scam ya of?”

Rachel was the pampered daughter of a wealthy businessman and while she was by no means unintelligent, she had been sheltered far too much and was just a little bit too trusting. Taynese and I had stopped her countless times from falling for scams and were used to this routine. It didn’t help that with her parents’ recent divorce proceedings, Rachel had been... vulnerable, making her the perfect target for conmen.

“Rach, don’t worry, just give me the guy’s details and I’ll let my sis know. She has contacts with the police-”

“You guys, it’s not a scam this time. He really is like a legit life coach. AND, FYI, he didn’t take any money from me. His first session with new clients is always free. He said it’s like a... diagnostic meeting.”

“Ooh honey... not to burst ya bubble, but that’s exactly what scammers do. They lure you in with those freebies, then before you know it, they’re taking ya for bank.”

“And what kind of life coach doesn’t charge you? That’s fishy Rach.”

Even some of those quacks I’ve seen charge full-rate just for a phone call consult.

“No way! I’m positive he’s legit. His IG following is really growing and there are like a ton of people who’ve given him great reviews. See?” Rachel shoved her phone into our faces. I took the phone from her and scanned the profile.

“Alec Lee... five thousand two hundred followers and... one hundred posts of positive client reviews... but Rachel, they could be fake reviews. And an Instagram following? That’s hardly proof of his qualifications is it?” I passed the phone over to Taynese who took one look and gasped dramatically.

“Hold up. Girl, am I trippin’ or is that his actual face? Ooh, he fine! This honey is more than qualified to coach my life anytime. How do we hook up?”

“You could DM him, but... I don’t think he plays for your team Tay. Also, even with his clients, he has these really strict safety conditions and if they’re broken, he doesn’t meet with you again.”

“What kind of conditions?”

“Hang on... it’s written under his profile... here.”

“Number one, client meetings will only be held in public places. Number two, there will not be any physical contact at all. Number three, after the first session, if either party deems that continued sessions will not be beneficial, there will be no further meetings... wow, the list really goes on. I mean, these do sound reasonable...”

“And he was really polite and professional when we met! I swear I’m not imagining it, but he seemed to really get me, like we were connecting with our third eye, you know?”

“Are ya sure it’s ya third eye and not something else that’s connecting? Coz he’s for sure a thirst trap waiting to happen.”

“No way Tay, he’s not even my type.”

“True. You like ‘em goth and freaky.”

“Not helping, Tay. Rachel, you feel a connection with him because that’s like the textbook description of what psychopaths and conmen do. They lure you in and make you feel safe and before you know it, you’re hooked.”

“Geez you guys, you’re being paranoid! Lucie aren’t you always saying ‘innocent till proven guilty’?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing now? Proving to you that he may be guilty?”

“Hah! Key words being ‘may be’.”

“Rach honey, we just don’t want ya to get hurt.”

“Well, I won’t. You’ll see. I’m meeting Alec later today at Lina’s Cafe for our session. I’ll let you guys know how it goes.”

“Wait. You’re meeting him? Today? Alone?”

“Yup! After school.”

“Oh no you’re not. We’re going with you.”

“W-what?”

“Oh hell yes girl! I’d like to meet this mysterious hottie.”

“Wait a minute you guys -”

“We definitely have to check this Alec guy out.”