She   could   see   the   way   he   looked   at   her   and   it   made   her 

@anchorsfm

Driven (2018)

“I’m   not   a   particularly   picky   eater,   so   you   can   just   make   me   your   specialty,”  she   said   with   a   shrug   and   a   smile.   The   smile   couldn’t   help   but   widen   at   his   enthusiasm   about   guessing   the   origin   of   her   accent   so   closely.   Signe   brightened   as   he   shared   that   he’d   spent   time   in   Denmark.  “My   dad’s   from   Denmark,   so   I   spent   a   lot   of   summers   visiting   relatives.   I’m   glad   you   enjoyed   it!   You’ll   have   to   show   me   what   you   learned   while   you   were   there.”   She   walked   beside   him   in   silence,   letting   his   voice   fill   the   space   between   them.   She   was   surprised   that   he   had   chosen   to   share   such   a   detailed   version   of   events   with   her.   A   heavy   weight   sat   on   her   heart   –   not   bad   just…real.   Charlie’s   deciding   ( whether   he   realized   it   or   not )   that   she   was   worth   trusting   with   the   details   of   his   story   meant   more   than   she’d   expected   it   to.   Signe   took   that   show   of   trust   quite   seriously.   She   glanced   over   at   him,   and   watched   the   way   his   eyes   lingered   on   a   new   painting   like   he   was   still   halfway   somewhere   else.   She   could   picture   that   little   boy   in   her   mind   –   bright-eyed,   heart   pounding   in   his   chest   as   he   imagined   what   it   would   be   like   to   have   a   stadium   roaring   for   you.   And   she   could   see   the   man   now,   who   had   pivot   on   his   dream   and   carry   on.   It   agonized   her,   the   thought   of   not   being   able   to   follow   your   passion   and   see   it   all   the   way   through   –   even   if   you   were   destined   to   fail.   To   be   denied   the   opportunity   to  try  would   have   been   the   most   infuriating   of   all.   “You   weren’t   running,”   she   said,   her   voice   soft   but   fierce,   almost   defensive   on   his   behalf.   She   grabbed   his   forearm   and   met   his   gaze   to   make   sure   he   heard   her   next   words.   “You   were.  healing.   It   takes   great   courage   to   find   a   new   dream   like   you   did.   I   don’t   think   I   would   be   able   to   do   that.”   Signe   offered   what   she   hoped   was   a   sympathetic   smile   and   squeezed   his   arm   in   support.  “And   for   what   it’s   worth.   I’m   glad   you   found   your   way   here.”

"Yeah?" He licked his lips in an attempt to keep his smile down, "You let me know what to make for ya, and I'll get the photos out." Charlie's eyes met hers for a brief moment, "As long as you're gentle, I'll be mint." His hands clap together quickly as he learns he guessed well. "I knew it! It's the way ya sing your words." He can't contain his smile as she gives him a small glimpse into her past, "I've been to Denmark before. Studied with a mate at Noma in Copenhagen for a bit before I kept travelin'. I learned a lot there. I was buzzin'. In me element, swear down. I loved it." His eyes glanced around them, but he found himself being drawn back to her each time.

"I get it, what you mean by warm.. I feel the same way." He pauses to think for a moment as he listens to their footsteps, not used to letting people in this quickly. "So when I were a kid, yeah? We lived in a council estate. Rough area, makin' ends meet as much as we could. It were just me and mum. I'd go to school, come home, do me school work, and then I'd cook dinner and clean up around the house while mum was workin'. One year, she tells me she's saved enough to take me to a Man City game for my eighth birthday. At the game she'd said somethin' about watchin' me practice in the yard in the late hours and how she'd been savin' more and she'd signed me up for a footy team." He smiles fondly to himself, "I watched that game and told her I were gonna work hard, just like her, and pay her back. And she told me just to have fun.. So I did. And I was good. I was better than good. By the time I were thirteen, I was havin' scouts come around. I signed to Man City's youth team at fifteen." Charlie stops talking for a moment, looking over at a painting that caught his eye and stopping to take it in.

He finally looks back over at Signe, a sad smile resting on his lips, "I had it all planned out, yeah? My entire life, right there. Everythin' I'd worked for and told my mum I was doin' for us were in the palm of me hand." He chuckles half heartedly, "Well, I sign, right? Make my way out of EDS, which means this is it. Big leagues. Premier league. Two weeks before my startin game I got hurt. Like.. Career endin' injury. And that was it. Had to start over just like that. Back to square one." Charlie brings his eyes back to the painting that had stopped him, "Cooking was the last thing I could remember enjoying before football. It was the only thing that made sense. And it felt like studyin' all over was the best excuse for gettin' out of my town. That way I wouldn't look like I was runnin'."

Ophelia   had   been   browsing   the   stacks   near   the   music   section,   scanning   the   titles   when   she   heard   the   quiet   chaos   unfold   behind   the   counter   and   gave   an   empathetic   wince.   "Yikes,   you   good?"   she   asked,   taking   a   cautious   step   forward   and   then   pausing   again.   A   flicker   of   amusement   passed   over   her   face   as   she   noticed   the   inky   smudge   on   their   forehead.   "Um.   You've   got   a   little..."   Lia   gestured   vaguely   between   her   brows   and   offered   a   playful   a   smile.   "It's   kind   of   a   look,   actually." At   their   prompting,   Lia   nodded   her   head   towards   the   section   she   had   just   vacated.   "I   was   actually   hoping   to   find   something   new   for   guitar--maybe   jazz   standards   or   fingerstyle   stuff?"   Ophelia   had   been   playing   guitar   since   she   was   thirteen   and   her   father   managed   to   thrift   her   first   acoustic   for   her   birthday.   Since   then,   she'd   made   it   her   personal   mission   to   never   stop   learning   or   honing   her   skills.   The   internet   was   great,   but   sometimes,   a   book   is   what   really   did   the   trick.

「  ✱  」  STATUS  ﹕  open  .  「  ✱  」  LOCATION  ﹕  the book nook  .  「  ✱  」  WITH  ﹕  jasper   &   open  (  @palmviewstarters )

it   was   a   quiet   day   at   the   bookstore,   with   only   the   sighs   of   worn   pages   to   keep   jasper   company,   and   so   he   softly   hummed   to   himself   as   he   sorted   through   the   new   arrivals.   romance,   mythological   retellings,   dusty   vintage   classics.   piles   towered   over   the   timid   boy   that   cast   wobbling   shadows   over   his   features.   the   shuffle   of   company   brought   him   from   his   trance.   an   elbow   nudged   the   leaning   tower   of   thrillers,   and   in   a   moment   jasper’s   arms   were   filled   with   cascading   novellas   threatening   to   spill. “hey  !   sorry,   one   second  …  ”   paperbacks   were   shrugged   onto   the   counter   with   a   limp  plop.   breathless,   they   attempted   to   fix   a   strand   of   unruly   brunette   which   promptly   pinged   back   into   its   clumsy   position.   the   ends   of   their   fingers   were   inky   from   refilling   the   receipt   printer   and   they   smeared   a   long   black   mark   across   their   forehead. “are   you   looking   for   something   particular   today  ?   we   have   the  right  book   for   everybody.”

[  …  ]  ❀  you’re  not  from  around  here  ,  are  you?  i  figured  because  you  totally  just  missed {  SIGNE  HOLSTRÖM  } walking  by.  don’t  tell  me  you  don’t  know  who {  SHE  }  is  ?  they  kind  of  look  like {  HAVANA  ROSE  LIU  }  and  i  could  be  wrong  but  i  think  that  they  might  be  {  24  }  years  old  right  now.  they’ve  been  living  in  palmview  for  the  last {  10  }.  and  i  don’t  know  if  anyone  has  ever  told  them  this  before  but  they  kind  of  remind  me  of {  SPENCER  HASTINGS  }  from {  PRETTY  LITTLE  LIARS  }.  if  you  stick  around  the  town  long  enough  you  might  catch  them  in  action  working  at {  PALMVIEW  FASHION  HOUSE  }  as  a {  STYLIST  }.  you  see  this  town  isn’t  really  that  big  of  a  place,  some  folks  like  to  call  them  the {  THE  MIRAGE  }  of  palmview!  they  took  a  liking  to  the  name  too  after  a  while,  go  figure.  oh  crap,  they  must  have  heard  me  yapping.  they’re  coming  this  way.  i  got  to  warn  you  though,  rumor  has  it  they  can  pretty  {  AVOIDANT  }  at  times.  i  wouldn’t  take  it  too  seriously  though,  from  the  times  i’ve  spoken  to  them  they  seemed  pretty {  AMBITIOUS  }  to  me.  we  see  each  other  all  the  time  since  they  live  in  that {  2  BEDROOM  }  apartment  beside  me  over  in {  MANGO  BAY  LOFTS  }.  i  better  leave  you  to  it.  it  was  nice  meeting  you!   {  KRYS.  32.  SHE/HER.  EST.  }

𝓲. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚜

name: signe holmström [ pronounced sing-neh ] nickname(s): tba. age: twenty4 birthday: 06 october 2000 gender/pronouns: cis woman + she/her sexuality: pansexual occupation: stylist at palmview fashion house residence: mango bay lofts #4B time in palmview: ten years

𝓲𝓲. 𝚝𝚕𝚍𝚛

signe is the only child of søren and sigrid holmström, a warmhearted doctor and reserved art history professor, respectively. she was born in malmö, sweden, but has been living in palmview for the last ten years ( since she was fourteen ). she is a soft-spoken perfectionist with a deep love for fashion and a dream of one day becoming a designer. while she's always surrounded by an abundance of love, she tends to have doubts about whether or not she actually deserves to be where she is. she strives to be the ideal daughter, not because of any expectations her parents have placed on her, but simply because she understands how much they've sacrificed for her and she wants those sacrifices to have been worth it. she's just moved out of her parents home and is figuring out what it means to be on her own.

full bio here.

𝓲𝓲𝓲. 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

🧵 childhood best friend - someone who has known signe since she arrived in palmview and has been by her side ever since 🧵 professional rivals 🧵 neighbors 🧵 roommate 🧵 former crushes/flings/exes 🧵 current crushes 🧵 college friends 🧵 work friends/coworkers 🧵 muse - a close friend (or rival!) who pushes signe to be bolder, weirder, and more herself creatively. 🧵 the mirror - someone who is also dealing with a legacy they're trying to live up to. they see a lot of similarities in each other and bond because of that. 🧵 the mentor - a senior person in fashion who takes signe under their wing

Lia's   boots   scuffed   against   the   boardwalk,   wind   undoing   what   little   effort   she'd   put   into   her   bun.   She   caught   sight   of   Dax   with   that   ever-present   smirk   and   couldn't   help   the   eye   roll   that   came   with   it.   "Well,   well,   well,"   she   said,   stopping   in   front   of   him,   "if   it   isn't   the   human   embodiment   of   a   moody   mixtape."   The   dark   haired   girl   sank   down   on   the   bench   beside   him,   one   leg   tucked   underneath   her   and   smirked   at   him.   "Trouble's   such   a   dramatic   word,   y'know?   I   prefer   to   think   of   it   as   light   chaos,"   she   shrugged.   "Simple   things   like   oversharing   with   a   barista   and   spending   80   bucks   on   vintage   strings   that   I   absolutely   didn't   need."   Lia   tilted   her   head   toward   him,   giving   him   a   once-over.   "What   about   you?   Deeply   judging   tourists   to   pass   the   time,   again?"

location  :    sunset  villa  beach. status  :    open  . ( @palmviewstarters )

he  leaned  back  against  the  peeling  wooden  bench,    the  salty  breeze  of  palmview  ruffling  his  hair  as  he  glanced  around  the  bustling  boardwalk.     his  tattooed  fingers  idly  drummed  against  the  edge  of  the  bench,     rhythm  in  sync  with  the  distant  crash  of  waves.     the  sun  dipped  low,     casting  long  shadows  over  the  surf  shops  and  beachside  vendors,     their  neon  signs  flickering  to  life  as  dusk  settled  in.     he  pulled  a  blunt  from  his  pocket,     tapping  it  thoughtfully  against  his  palm  before  lighting  it  up,     the  tip  flaring  bright  in  the  growing  twilight.     inhaling  deeply,     he  closed  his  eyes,     letting  the  familiar  burn  settle  in  his  chest.     he  hadn’t  relaxed  in  a  minute  —  time  had  a  funny  way  of  slipping  past  in  this  town,     days  bleeding  into  each  other  with  the  rhythm  of  tides.

he  exhaled,     smoke  curling  up  toward  the  sky  as  footsteps  approached,     scattering  seagulls  nearby.     he  cracked  one  eye  open,     a  smirk  curling  his  lips.    "  well,     look  what  the  tide  dragged  in.  "    he  drawled,     flicking  ash  to  the  pavement.     his  gaze  lingered,     curiosity  sparking  in  his  eyes  as  he  leaned  forward,     elbows  on  his  knees.     "  so,     what  kinda  trouble  you  get  yourself  into  today?  "

When   Charlie   pulled   her   close,   Signe   ducked   her   head   slightly,   trying   to   hide   her   pleased   smile   at   his   reaction   to   her   words   and   her   touch.  “So,   you’re   saying   I   affect   you?”   she   asked   with   a   playful   tilt   of   her   head.   “You   seem   to   be   doing   a   pretty   good   job   of   surviving   the   night   so   far.”   By   some   miracle,   Signe   was   doing   a   decent   job   of   keeping   it   together  herself.   She   wasn’t   sure   how   her   heart   hadn’t   leapt   straight   out   of   her   body   at   this   point.   The   warmth   in   Charlie’s   voice   and   the   tenderness   in   his   smile,   even   the   way   he   brushed   their   noses   together   –   it   was   all   so   dizzying   in   the   best   way.   His   quiet   declarations   and   the   way   he   kept   opening   up   to   her   –   allowing   himself   to   be   vulnerable   –   was   more   than   she   had   ever   expected   for   this   date.   She   liked   the   way   that   he   softened   for   her,   like   he   was   making   a   choice   and   peeling   back   layers   he   didn’t   offer   just   anyone.   It   was   absolutely   undoing   her.   So,   instead   of   teasing   him,   she   offered   him   some   vulnerability   in   return.  “You   don’t   have   to   be   better   for   me,   Charlie.   Although,   the   fact   that   you   want   to   is…”  Signe   smiled,   shaking   her   head.   “You   can’t   be   so   perfect   all   at   once.”   “Oh,   don’t   fuss.   You   look   perfect!”   A   squeal   escaped   her   lips   as   his   arm   wrapped   around   her   middle   and   he   lifted   her   off   the   ground.   Her   feet   touched   back   down   and   she   erupted   into   giggles,   leaning   into   the   kisses   he   pressed   to   her   cheek.   Her   breath   hitched   slightly   and   her   eyes   flared   with   heat   at   the   sound   of   his   voice   dropping   low   and   his   hands   traced   up   her   hips.   There   was   a   boldness   to   Charlie’s   touch   that   might   have   sent   her   running   on   another   night   with   someone   else.   But   with   him,   the   touch   was   grounding.   She   hummed,   turning   in   his   arms   to   face   him   better.   “You   weren’t   ready   for   a   selfie   –   you   think   you’re   ready   for   a   second   date?”   she   teased.   Signe   raised   an   eyebrow   at   him   as   Charlie   laid   it   all   out   like   he   was   confident   she   wouldn’t   say   no. Sound   like   a   plan?    He   was   too   charming   for her   own   good.  “Yes,   Chef,”  she   grinned,   biting   down   on   her   lip.  “I’m   not   the   best   in   the   kitchen,   but   I   am   a   quick   learner.”  She   wrapped   her   arms   around   his   neck,   her   stare   playful   but   steady.  “But   just   so   we’re   clear–I’m   not   responsible   if   your   very   serious   process   gets   totally   derailed   by   me   being   in   your   kitchen…or   your   lap.”   She   offered   him   a   cheeky   grin,   her   eyes   dancing.  “You’re   really   gonna   let   me   pick   dessert,   though?   Whatever   I   want?”

Charlie’s breath caught somewhere between a laugh and a groan as her fingers danced over his chest, her touch light but loaded. His heart-rate hadn't failed to speed up as she teased him back, her own playful nature shining now. Charlie cleared his throat, hand around her waist tugging her a bit closer, "Well if you keep doin' that, I'll end up makin' declarations I shouldn't be makin' yet." He hummed, his chest rising and falling with the weight of their proximity. "Sayin’ things like that with your hand there.. how am I supposed to survive the night without makin’ a complete idiot of myself?"

Her words, her kiss, the quiet way she spoke about liking who she was around him, it all knocked the wind out of his chest. He smiled, but softer now. Not the cocky grin he wore like armor, but something honest. "Well, I like who I am when I’m with you too." He tilted his head just enough so his nose brushed hers. "Feels like I get to breathe a little easier." He shivered at the feeling of her fingers skimming along his collarbone and tensed, not out of discomfort, but because of how good it felt, how easily she undid him. Charlie instinctively clenched his jaw, the muscles tightening under her touch. His lips parted in a slow breath, "That version of me we’re talkin’ about.." He stared into Signe's eyes, seriousness painting his face, "I ain't gonna be like I used to with you, Signe.. this is different. You make me wanna be even better."

And then she spun in for the selfie and all the heat broke into laughter. He barely had time to register what was happening before she was taking pictures, and he leaned into her with a surprised laugh, cheeks aching from smiling, "Oi! Warn a bloke next time! My hair’s not even fixed!" Charlie laughed out, one arm quickly wrapping around Signe's waist to steady her against his body while the other slipped through his hair. His laugh rang out, fingers gripping at her side as he lifted her up with the one arm, "Unfair, I wasn't ready!" He smiled wider, peppering a few kissing to her cheek as he placed her back down. Charlie rest his chin on her shoulder, watching with her as she'd scrolled through the pictures. When she turned back with that look in her eye, he caught it and raised an eyebrow in response, "Unhinged, you say?" His hand slid teasingly along her hip. "I'm always interested in unhinged, Holström... But if you leave it up to me, we might need to solidify that second date.. I told ya, I'm doin' it right with you."

He let the suggestion linger for a moment, then leaned in again, closer, softer, his voice dropping just enough to make the air between them buzz. "What do you think about a quieter second date? We skip the crowd, yeah? You come over, I’ll cook us somethin’ proper... Or.. Better idea, you help me cook. You can be my sous chef. I’ll show you a few tricks, teach you how to plate like we’re servin’ in a Michelin kitchen, and you can mock my very serious process." His smirk tugged at one side of his mouth as his hand slid across her stomach, both hands now landing on either of her hips. "Then we queue up that movie of yours, get cozy, and if you’re lucky... I might even let you pick dessert.. it's typically a specific menu for me, but you seem to like mixin’ things up.." A beat, his eyes locked on hers. "Sound like a plan?"

She   smiled   softly,   glancing   towards   him.   “Well,   there’s   still   beauty   in   that   too,   isn’t   there?”   she   tilted   her   head,   playfully.  “Your   mum   might   not   be   arranging   bouquets,   but   being   surrounded   by   all   that   life   and   color   still   leaves   an   impact.”  At   his   question   about   her   muse,   her   gaze   focused   back   onto   the   canvas   before   them.  “Fashion   stuff,   mostly,”  she   began,   her   tone   casual   and   slightly   downplaying   just   how   much   all   that  ‘fashion   stuff’   meant   to   her.  “Fabric,   textiles   –   I   sketch   and   make   my   own   designs   –   not   for   anyone   else   yet,   but…”  Signe   shrugged,   leaving   her   sentence   unfinished.  The   girl   watched   as   he   stepped   forward   to   study   the   painting   a   little   more   closely,   and   she   allowed   the   silence   to   stretch   comfortably   as   he   made   his   own   assessments   of   the   piece.    When   he   turned   back   to   her,   all   honesty   and   charm,   it   made   her   smile   without   meaning   to.  “That’s   the   thing   about   art,”   she   said,   tucking   a   strand   of   her   unruly   hair   behind   her   ear.  “It’s   not   about   knowing   what   you’re   looking   at,   it’s   about   how   it   makes   you   feel.”   Signe   shifted   slightly,   turning   to   face   him   more   directly.   “And   for   the   record,   food absolutely   counts.   There’s   so   much   emotion   in   taste.”   He   introduced   himself,   and   a   playful   smile   curved   her   lips   as   she   reached   out   to   shake   his   hand.  “Signe. Sing-neh.   But   you   can   call   me   whatever   sounds   right,”  she   joked.   Still   holding   his   hand,   she   leaned   in,   lowering   her   voice   to   a   conspiring   whisper.   “So,   Charlie   the   Culinary   Artist,   what   kind   of   food   are   we   talking?   Tiny   towers   and   edible   flowers,   or   greasy   comfort   food?”

Charlie held a gentle smile as the girl explained the piece wasn't painted by her, "That's lovely. What a cool way to pass on an interest. My mum works at this garden center, but more like 'the soil's over here' and less of the beauty of flowers, I guess." He lets out a soft laugh as he glances between her and the painting, "What's your medium then? If this isn't it, what's your style?"

The way that she'd spoken about the painting had Charlie's eyes immediately focusing more, his feet taking a small step forward to get a better look at the colors. "I would've never even thought about somethin' like that. Don't always know what I'm supposed to be lookin' at when I look at a paintin'." He turned on his heel, attention back on the girl as his head shook, "Honestly? I know nothin' about art. Never grew up really interested, but livin' here it's impossible not to stare. Now I'm definitely someone who appreciates it, really. I can't-.. Genuinely, can't draw for shit, let alone do anythin' close to this." A shrug lifts on his shoulders, "Unless you consider food art. You could say that's my medium." He jokes, holding his hand out towards the girl, "I'm Charlie."

She   snorted   at   the   question   while   she   handed   over   the   mess   of   string   into   Enzo’s   waiting   hand.  “Well,   I   was  trying   to   make   a   diamond   friendship   bracelet   pattern,”  Signe   gestured   to   the   pattern   she’d   been   attempting   to   follow.    “Clearly,   my   talents   lay   elsewhere.”  There   was   no   sting   in   her   voice,   only   amusement.   Her   eyes   flickered   down   at   the   beaded   bracelet   that   was   also   before   him   and   smiled.  “Maisie’s   is   definitely   better   than   mine.   She’s   clearly   the   true   artist   here.”

Enzo had been asked to join the Chief of Plastic Surgery's daughter at the friendship bracelet table. She had taken a liking to him from the moment he arrived at her third birthday party and brought her a life-size doll imported from Italy. Since then, Enzo and Maisie have been inseparable for the past three years. As she showed him the sparkly beads to add to their bracelet, the woman beside him displayed their failed attempt. "Well, not everything is a loss. No pun intended," he said, gesturing for her to hand him the knotted string. "What were you trying to do here?"

Signe   observed   the   unfamiliar   man   curiously,   his   easy   smile   and   warm   energy   holding   the   kind   of   casual   charm   that   made   friends   out   of   strangers   quickly.   His   accent   caught   her   attention   first,   and   then,   finally,   she   registered   the   question.   She   laughed   softly,   shaking   her   head   sending   her   wild   curls   flying.  “No,   no,   this   isn’t   my   medium,”  she   replied,   a   polite   smile   gracing   her   lips.   Although   he   didn’t   say   she   was   in   his   way,   Signe   stepped   aside   anyway   to   give   him   a   better   view.  “It’s   gorgeous   though.   I   was   just   thinking   it   reminds   me   of   something   my   mom   studied   –   she’s   an   art   history   professor.   I   can   already   hear   her   commentary   in   my   head.”   She   cleared   her   throat,   slightly   embarrassed   that   it   took   her   all of two   seconds   to   mention   her  mom   while   talking   to   a   handsome   stranger.   Signe   tucked   a   piece   of   hair   behind   her   ear   and   refocused   on   the   painting.  “You’re   right   though,   it’s brilliant.   I’ve   been   trying   to   figure   out   how   they   got   the   colors   to   look   like   that,”  she   murmured   the   last   part   almost   to   herself,   once   again   losing   herself   for   a   few   too   long   moments   before   she   resolved   to   experiment   later.   Signe   glanced   back   at   the   man,   curious   now.  “Are   you   into   art,   or   just   wandering   by?”

There was little Charlie loved more than having a free day before his shift at the restaurant. He'd spent time in some of the most beautiful places in the world, but the charm of his new home called to him. On days when he didn't have to be in until dinner he'd sleep in, cook himself a ridiculous breakfast, and pick an area to roam. Today's pick was Mango Bay, considering it was the same neighborhood as his job.

He'd already gone to a few shops before walking towards the art district. While Charlie did have a few talents, art was not one of them. He hadn't grown up in an area where it was appreciated, or at least not in his house. His mother spent the majority of her time working to pay for his blossoming career and when his father was around, the last thing they'd speak about was art. But on days when he'd walk home from training, he'd always stare at the murals; the ones left by graffiti artists that would be painted over soon enough, and wonder who'd made them.

Now, living somewhere that art had been celebrated, he'd tried to immerse himself a bit more. He hadn't realized that his mind was wandering, his eyes stuck on a canvas, until he'd heard a voice speaking to him. "Wh- Oh! Oh, nah, sorry." Charlie's head shook quickly, lifting his hand to point at the painting she'd also been admiring, "It's brilliant, innit? Did you paint it?"