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Maddison was sure he couldn't breathe, but he still managed to respond. “Sammy. You think so?”
“You always do.” A pat on the head. Maddison's heart stopped. “Surprise me, Maddison.”
Maddison smirked. He definitely would.
On the day of the competition, Maddison was a bundle of nerves. He kept checking his materials, if all his tubes of acrylics were complete, if all the colors he needed were there, if he had enough greens and blacks, if his brushes were all the right sizes. They were to paint on the spot, with five hours as their time limit. It was ridiculous, the time limit. Maddison usually finished a painting in full canvas overnight, with no sleep, or two days if he opted to rest. And these were high schoolers, even though they have more energy than a grown-ass adult, they still needed to rest and shit. He never understood their rules. They had to dry their paint with a freaking hair dryer.
His knee kept jerking up and down in nervousness, his palms sweating. He kept rubbing them dry on his slacks. Beside him, Sam sat quietly. One look at him and Sam scowled, putting a stop to his moving knee by resting and gripping his hand on his kneecap.
“Stop it, you're being ridiculous,” Sam hissed.
“I'm fucking nervous, Sammy. Can you see Dicky in front of us? He looks so chill, the fucker.” Said fucker was sitting ahead of them, a few rows in front, mop-blonde hair visible from across the room. He was wearing his Wellspring Academy uniform, that kind you only see in shows like Gossip Girl, and he seemed oh-so relaxed. A red-head was sitting beside him, chatting animatedly. Maddison scoffed. Dicky looked like a tree with his non-reactions.
“You know there's nothing to be nervous about.” Sam's voice was soft and it made Maddison look at him with narrow eyes.
“Nothing? Silly, Sammy,” Maddison replied with an airy voice. “There's a lot to be nervous about. Like what if I forgot what picture I should paint, or what color I should use, or the image I wanted won't come out like what I pictured in my head —“
“Shh,” Sam placed his palm on Maddison's mouth. “Shut up, you're so whiny.”
Well, Maddison couldn't talk now, could he?
“You practiced right?” Sam asked. “You sketched for weeks and painted last night. You didn't even sleep enough. You think you're fooling me by pretending to sleep for the first two hours? I knew you went back to your spot on the balcony to paint when you thought I was asleep.”
Maddison removed Sam's hand from his mouth, sniffing. “Sammy, you were awake?”
Sam spent the night over at Maddison's because it was Friday and this day was the one Saturday that they didn't have practice. It was perfect, Maddison thought, because Sammy never missed Maddison's competition. He always went to accompany Maddison at his events, the way Maddison did at his games.
“Of course I was awake, dumbass. You were moving a lot. I couldn't sleep.”
“Sorry,” Maddison murmured.
Sam lifted his hands and placed them on both sides of his face, looking straight at him. “Still nervous?” he asked.
Yes, but for a different reason, Maddison thought. Out loud, he said, “Not anymore, no.”
“Good. Better treat me to some ramen after you win,” Sam grinned before letting him go. He was so confident Maddison would win, it made Maddison confident too. It was always like that with them, believing and trusting each other. They were each other's strength. Maddison never wanted that to change.
His painting indeed won. Sam waited for him for six hours, patient and calm. He hugged Maddison when the winner was announced, took a picture of him on stage when he received his plaque and prize.
“It was a beautiful painting,” Sam had said after hugging him.
“You already saw that several times,” Maddison said, blushing a little.
“Yes, but not this one. This one is the best. Are you allowed to take it home?”
Maddison shook his head. “It will be displayed in the public gallery along with the other winners.”
“I'm proud of you.” Sam said that with so much emotion in his eyes that Maddison was sure his face was flaming. He looked at his painting, now displayed on stage on an easel between the second and third placers.
The painting was composed of two half faces in side views. They have no eyes, their bodies starting from their noses and cheeks up to their bare torsos. On the female's head was a beautiful rainforest, a paradise, full of life and colors. On the male's side was a burning city, black and red and orange, the image of destruction. The two were almost kissing, holding each other. The judges said it was the perfect representation of the theme.
“I would love to have that in my room.” Maddison looked up and saw Sam also staring with admiration at his painting, and he couldn't help but smile.
“I can always make a replica for Sammy.”
“That would be nice.”
“Okay,” Maddison grinned. He would make it more beautiful for Sam.
