One night, inside her studio and after smoking several cigarettes, Stella began to paint two beings. It was about a man between 25 and 30 years old, with scars on his right shoulder, embracing a crying demon, almost his age and with a horn split in half. It took her several hours to capture them on her canvas but she was satisfied with the result.

Benxamin saw the painting when he left his bedroom while he went to the kitchen to get water.

“Interesting. You haven't drawn people in a while. What does it mean?” He asked.

“It is the representation of a passionate relationship, the demon must kill the human because it is part of his destructive nature. There is no other explanation than that. It's his killer instinct.” answered Stella.

“What character are you in the painting?”

“I don't represent myself in my paintings, Ben,” Stella nicknamed Benxamin that way because she had tired of telling him his full name. As for Victor, she hardly cared about his presence.

“Hmm... are you sure?”

“Excuse me?!”

“Well, I think you could be any of them.”

“You want to play with me, Ben. Since you are an expert, what does this painting mean to you?” Stella expressed annoyance.

“The man knows that he is going to die but he hugs his beloved, he still has the hope that everything will be fine. The demon knows that he must kill him, he cries because his instincts will force him to do it no matter how much he wants to avoid it. He will reach a point where he can no longer control himself.  His only option is to get away from him, but he seems to have given up trying." Benxamin said.

Stella at first looked at him incredulously. It was exactly her intention in the painting, but in his explanation, she understood what he meant.

“So, according to you, I have no hope?”

“You've lost it since our mother died.”

Stella was really mad at Benxamin, he told her something that was very true but whose words hurt her more than anything else. She then tried to play the same strategy as him.

“Sometimes you are a very insensitive and manipulative boy, you know that? I've noticed that you tell people what hurts them the most and in the most direct way to make them feel bad, and then, they see you as their motivational speaker.”

“I'm just trying to help people. You always have to tell the truth, because life isn't an idyll, but my brother Victor is more expert than me in that,” Benxamin replied as he looked at the painting again.

“And speaking of Victor,” he continued with his analysis. “That human looks a bit like him, don't you think? It's like his adult version.”

“Victor? What are you talking about? You could be him too. Well, you are his twin after all. The man in the painting looks even like your father, that bastard who ran off as soon as he found out Anaís was pregnant,” Stella said as she smoked another cigarette.

“Maybe in appearance, but I think the message of the painting would fit more with Victor's personality. He doesn't want to feel alone and he seeks love and approval from the people around him, from me, from our neighbor Lester, from his parents and from you.” said Benxamin.

“From me? Hahaha, of course, with everything he's done I doubt it very much. I'm sure he will become a submissive man if he seeks the affection of anyone who tells him that they love him. Before I married August, I met to many idiots who told me they loved me or rather, the money I made from my paintings. You don't know what love is, because you haven't fallen in love yet, Ben.”

“You are right about that. I don't know anything about love, but I analyze people and I can get an idea of what that means. I hope Victor isn't like that, that he doesn't become obsessed with anyone. I fear for his well-being if he ever feels alone.  He tells me about his problems and I try to advise him, but it won't always be like that. As for you, although you are firm in your decisions, you know that you are being humiliated by your paintings, but in your attempt to be original, you do not listen to the opinions of others, of your fans who want to help you.”

Then, Stella approached Benxamin to demand an explanation.

“What are you trying to tell me?” She said as she looked at her nephew with contempt.

“You want to be admired for an art that nobody likes. I take it you're someone who doesn't care what others think of you or are you feigning false security? You want others to love you, but you…”

“Shut up, Benxamin! You have no right to tell me how to lead my life!” said Stella, who was about to lose her temper.

Realizing that he was overreaching, Benxamin tried to calm his aunt down, apologizing with praise; “Your art was and will continue to be amazing. I really like this painting, it's a mix between your old and new illustrations. You will sell it soon but I suggest you do it at a reasonable price and when I say that this man looks like Victor it is because he doesn't know how to love himself. He doesn't want to run from the demon and prefers to sacrifice his life.  I hope I'm wrong.”

“About the last thing you said,”  Stella said as she massaged her neck. “The man in the painting loves himself so much that he wants to give the demon a chance to be free, even if it means he has to die. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to love others and would kill anyone to survive.”

“It's not true, love is not a sacrifice. I wouldn't die to save anyone. I would stay alive because as much as I may love someone, my life matters just as much as that person's.” Benxamin said who returned to his bedroom, completely forgetting that he wanted to drink water.

At that precise moment, he saw Victor behind them. He listened to most of the conversation, completely still looking at the painting. He didn't say anything or get angry because they talked about him, but there was a certain nostalgia in his eyes. He had a feeling something like this could happen to him and that Lester, unfortunately, would be involved.