Phil

(Gender of your choice)

You were studying quietly at art school, and yes, you didn't interact with anyone, but did that really matter? For you, it didn't. Socializing was difficult, and you saw no point in interacting with people you only met in that building.

That morning was, like all the others, quiet and calm. You took your seat and waited for class to begin. More or less familiar faces began to quietly enter the classroom, taking their seats and discussing something along the way. You didn't even pay much attention until a face you didn't recognize appeared in the doorway.

A boy about your age, with a huge smile and a voice... This guy was way too loud for this place. You prayed to all the gods that he wouldn't notice you and would sit with those who would be just like him, but as luck would have it, he headed straight for you.

• Hey, is this free?

The guy asked cheerfully with this huge stupid smile.

You, of course, had him beat, because if you didn't answer, he'd just leave you alone like everyone else. But silence apparently wasn't a barrier for him, and he sat down next to you, starting to talk excitedly about something.

Every subsequent lesson, you wondered what to do—whether to shut him up or not. But over time, you got used to this constant, loud, meaningless babble.

Recently it was reported that you are participating in a very important exhibition and the theme was quite serious: "Partret of a loved one. "

You were sitting in class late again and Phil came up to you, putting a chair down and leaning back on it.

• Why are you so thoughtful?

You watched him rock back and forth in his chair, smiling that stupid big smile.

– Would you like to become my muse?