Switching on the lights to the studio, the space seems emptier than usual even though everything was where they had last seen it. In the center of the room, a white cloth covered a large canvas that took up a third of the width of this room.
Bryan reached out and gave the cloth a small tug. A beautiful meadow with chromatic colors entered their sight. The back view of a young lady could be seen with one hand brushing through the flowers on the side. Meanwhile, her other arm reached towards the audience as if she was pulling the audience in for an adventure.
Even though the girl's hair looked slightly disheveled by the breeze, the coziness in the painting would make one smile to it. The neutral and warm tones she used perfectly captured an emotional moment. It was a stress free and carefree type of energy that encourages the audience positively.
"She's always like this. No matter where or when, she never fails to surprise me with her art. I've always wished to see what she sees with those eyes. The colors she uses somehow comes alive and flows the way she wishes. To me, the dull colors just look like regular colors on a palette. But somehow, this girl makes butterflies come alive with her brush." The tips of his finger brushed against the soft texture of the painting as his nose began to sting.
"You're right. Her smile is the warmest and truest I've ever seen. Ever since I met you guys, I've gone on such adventurous roads. Even though many things have changed over these years, her smile still stayed as innocent. I swore to myself I would protect her smile. But I failed." Regret filled the gaps of his words as he sighed.
With tears blocking their vision, they let out a sighing laugh. It was soft enough to be missed. "I'll go to the convenience store and get some drinks." Alfred turned away and exited the studio. He knew Bryan needed more time alone. Though they were her brothers, Bryan was closer to her. The burning pain in Bryan's chest would not be any less than what he was feeling now.
Bringing back canned beers, Alfred noticed the similar puffiness on Bryan's eyes. In front of the painting, Alfred smiled and showed bags of Selina's favorite snacks. He also bought her favorite fruit juice and placed it in front of the painting.
Clanging their canned beers against her fruit juice, Bryan and Alfred emptied out the liquid in one go.
"Alfred, I've never spoken about my family other than Selina. But today, I really want to lighten the weight on my shoulders. As her brother, I've failed to protect her from hurting. Don't look at her smiling every time she meets you, deep down she's hurting on her own." Bryan bent his right knee upwards and leaned his chin on it.
Narrowing his eyes with visible tears in it, Bryan forced a bitter smile. Chugging another can of beer down his system, he began sniffling. "Growing up, she worked her hardest to get first place in exams and honors roll. Every time she received an award; she would only see me in the audience waving at her. Each time I complimented her; her eyes would wander behind me."
He took small pauses between his sentences; calming his voice from break point.
"My heart aches for her every time I see her smiling at me because I knew she wanted to see my mother. When she received her scholarships, honors and many first times. Never have my mother once attended the ceremonies nor gave her a compliment. When we were young, I happened to see my mom shoving her aside just because Selina wanted a hug."
"I've seen and heard her cry alone. Since then, I told myself it's alright if my mother is mean to her as long as I'm there for her. No matter how busy I was, I wouldn't miss any events at her school. It's alright that my mother wasn't there for her. I'll bring her favorite sweets and flowers to her. What others have and she doesn't, I'll make up for it a different way."
"Just like this, years went by. Whenever I'm around, my mother wouldn't say nor do much to her. But I'm not sure if she does anything to Selina behind my back and recently...I'm having doubts about her death. Was it just Peter Sin's fault? But knowing her, she wouldn't hurt herself from just him. But what if..what if.."
His words halted at the top of his throat and swallowed back down. Alfred stared at the painting in front and took two mouthfuls of beer. Turning towards Bryan, he opened his mouth to break his promise. "Sorry, Selina. I need to tell your brother this even though I've promised not to tell."
"What?"
Taking a deep breath, Alfred took a long glance at the painting before shifting his attention back on Bryan.
"I wasn't planning on ever telling you about this, but I now have a reason to. You mentioned your mother mistreating Selina. Actually, I kind of guessed it and known for a while now. While you were gone for two years, Selina would come to her studio often. Most of the time, she looked upset about something."
"Whenever I asked her, she would change the topic or avoid telling me about it. Then...there was a time when I left something important and came back to take it. I saw a ripped canvas and Selina sobbing on top of it. She painfully asked why it was difficult to give a gift or something. This was one incident."
He sighed heavily as he lifted his head to face Bryan. "There was another time where she locked herself in the bathroom and cried to herself. I was knocking and trying to get her out of there. S...She attempted to cut herself, but I barged in right on time to stop her. I remember hugging her for hours before she stopped crying. She mentioned your mother, but not what happened specifically."
"After that incident, I kept an eye on her at all times to make sure she was alright. She made me promise her to not tell you because she didn't want to worry you. Since she seemed fine and was smiling again, I also started forgetting about it. I didn't expect to come back this time...to her..."
Alfred crushed the empty can and tossed it aside as he wiped his mouth. "Anyways, I don't think she will jump down from a break up. Something must have happened between the time she got home to when she jumped. I am leaning more towards your mother having done something. Instinctively, I think your mother is pretty suspicious.
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