The days slipped by like water through cupped hands, and Kai remained an enigma—a shadow in the early morning light. Our paths crossed briefly, mere whispers of existence. He, the early riser; I, the late returner. Our cohabitation was a dance of avoidance, choreographed by practicality.

But life, as it often does, threw me a curveball. Ora, my confidante, burst into my office, mascara smudged and heart shattered. Ji Hoon, her boyfriend, had betrayed her trust. And so, armed with righteous fury and a can of spray paint, we embarked on our clandestine mission.

His apartment door bore the damning words: “GIRLFRIEND CHEATER.” We giggled like rebellious teenagers, adrenaline coursing through our veins. The car received the same treatment—justice served in graffiti.

Social media devoured our act of defiance. Ji Hoon’s infidelity was now pixelated gossip, and Ora’s tears transformed into a battle cry. How could he cheat on my best friend? The world agreed: he deserved every spray-painted syllable.

Then came Tae Hyun, the friendly intruder. His phone held evidence—the viral photos of our midnight escapade. kai smirked, a Mona Lisa smile that hinted at secrets. I wondered what lay beneath his stoic facade. Was he amused or merely indifferent?

Hyun, ever the diplomat, praised our graffiti prowess. “Whoever it is,” he declared, “they did good.” I concurred, my smile a silent pact with Ora. We were warriors of the night, defenders of loyalty.

And then Kai dropped his bombshell: two weeks away on a conference to Ganevea. Freedom beckoned—an empty house, walls yearning for life. But could I breathe color into this monochrome existence? I, the artist, contemplated rebellion of a different kind.

As Kai and Hyun departed, I stood amidst blank canvases. The walls whispered their longing. Perhaps Kai would return to find more than mere white plaster. Perhaps he’d witness my rebellion—a riot of hues, a symphony of strokes. For I was an artist, and even practicality couldn’t suppress my need to create.