Story

Stella stood before a blank canvas, a pensive expression on her face as she surveyed the vast white space. Dim sunlight filtered through the window of her art studio, illuminating the unfinished paintings littered around the room. She was itching to begin another painting. Putting a brush to  a canvas was the best way for her to forget the struggles of her life and the sadness she felt inside, and those same thoughts were consuming her now.

As a well-known painter in her city, Stella’s art was hung in local buildings, admired by visitors to their city gallery, and constantly praised - but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her craving for perfection and more success. It had begun to feel like her creativity was running dry, the expectations of others sitting like a suffocating weight on her shoulders; the thrill of painting that she had felt ever since she picked up a brush for the first time at 12 years old had dwindled into a distant memory.

Beyond her creative struggles, there was no denying to herself that her personal life was far from perfect. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in over eight months, the explosive fight they’d had over their disapproval of her choice to become a painter still fresh in her mind, and her brother was distant, only texting occasionally to check up on how she was doing. The only person she had in her life was her best friend, Lia, but every message from Lia - updates about her successful career and her blossoming relationship - left her feeling terribly insecure. Stella was alone, her life empty, and every day seemed to add to the endless darkness that was shrouding her world.

As if mirroring her gloomy thoughts, rain began falling outside and filling the studio with a soft rhythm like a melancholic lullaby. A faint smile crossed Stella’s face at the peaceful sound, and she gazed out the window at the city blanketed by rain, lights reflecting and glimmering in the water and sunlight fading from a golden glow to a warm pink. Newfound spirit filled Stella as she returned to her canvas, picked up a paintbrush and dipped it into a palette of blues and greys, and let her emotions guide her as they spilled across the canvas.

Hours later, the moon had risen to reveal stars dotting the sky and the rain had faded to a light drizzle. Stella stepped back and regarded her painting with wonder - how had she managed to complete it? The scene was of a figure with their back to the canvas, holding an umbrella and gazing into the streets of a rainy city night. Noticing a small detail that didn’t seem quite right, Stella pursed her lips and picked up a brush to add a finishing touch. Finally, the painting was complete.

The room spun. Panic gripped Stella as a feeling of dizziness took over her, and she stumbled to the wall to hold it in support. A frantic glimpse of her painting revealed that it was … glowing? But before she could register that fact, there was a flash of light, and Stella cried out before everything went black.

Stella opened her eyes to the feeling of cold rain soaking her long hair and her skin being cold to the touch. An umbrella was clutched limply in her grasp, but she was too disoriented to lift it. Stella was standing on the street of a city, lights flickering in the evening glow of the sky. “Where am I … ?” she whispered to herself, dread filling her. For some reason, a wave of deja vu washed over her.

Based on how shivers were beginning to run violently through her body, one thing was certain: she needed to get inside and out of the rain. Stella walked with wavering steps towards the closest door and pushed it open, jolting in surprise at the cheerful ring of a bell. “Hello?” she called hesitantly, taking in her surroundings. She seemed to be in a cafe, with music playing quietly amidst the chatter of patrons and the aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries filling the air. As she approached a table, hoping to finally sit down and make sense of what was going on, she noticed the young man sitting near her. He seemed to be around her age, with raven hair and twinkling green eyes.

“Hello!” He grinned at her. “You must be new here.”

“Where exactly is … here?” Stella ventured, confused. The man only laughed. “Here, of course! Aren’t you cold from the rain? Let’s get you something warm. A latte, maybe?”

Stella nodded numbly. Still in shock, she followed the man to the counter where he prepared her coffee, the hum of the coffeemaker filling the silence. Settling in a plush seat near the window of the cafe and letting the warmth of the drink spread through her body with a few sips, Stella felt her fear dissipating. She turned to the man and questioned, “What is this place?”

The man raised an eyebrow, mischief dancing in his eyes. “You don’t know? You are, after all, the one who created it.” Stella gasped as his words sank into her mind. Was she … in her painting?

“But that’s not possible! How could I be inside a canvas? Stop joking around.”

The man laughed, shaking his head. “Look around. Doesn’t it look familiar?”

Peering out the window, Stella couldn’t deny that the scene reflected back was strikingly similar to the rainy city she had been painting just minutes before. Even the way that she had been standing in the street when she arrived, with an umbrella clutched lightly in her hand, matched the figure that was the center of her painting.

“But … why?” she breathed, feeling lightheaded with awe and shock.

“ Maybe you just needed an escape.” The man shrugged casually. “The world works in magical ways, doesn’t it? I’m Jay, by the way.”

Stella’s head was hurting too much to try and make sense of his mysterious words, so she just let out a deep sigh and drank more of her coffee. “I’m Stella. You know what? Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing that I’m here,” she mused, tapping her fingers on the handle of the mug. “It’s not like things were all that great back home.”

Embracing the surreal situation she’d found herself in, Stella sat talking with Jay in the comfortable bubble of the cafe, hours passing as they shared stories. The easy flow of their words, along with the peaceful atmosphere of the cafe and the night enveloped in rain, evoked a feeling of serenity in her that she hadn’t felt in months. Jay was witty and insightful, making her laugh multiple times and always knowing exactly what to say in a way that seemed to tug at the deepest parts of her identity. It was like he represented everything she was struggling to hang onto - freedom, creativity, and a pure joy to live. As they talked, the thought of leaving the painting world slipped away from her mind until it was nothing more than a faraway whisper.

Days passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Stella explored the vibrant city with her new friend and met countless people, all of whom greeted her with bright smiles and warm words. She was overjoyed to learn that every single person she encountered did some form of art, from painting to singing to poetry and even sculpting, and she felt her artistic spirit soaring as she painted alongside Jay in his studio. As she spent more time with the people of the city, it felt like she was rediscovering her creativity. There was no pressure to be perfect and no limits on what she could try, and the first time in a while, she was happy.

Yet as the initial thrill faded, Stella began to realize that not everything was perfect about being in the magical world. It was becoming harder to grasp the memories of her real life, the faces of her loved ones growing blurry like the rain. An urgency to go home took root in her heart, but every time she thought of leaving, the enchanting joy and laughter pulled her back in.

One night, as Stella sat in that same cafe with Jay and her other new friends, a sinking feeling gripped her when she realized she couldn’t recall the sound of Lia’s laugh. “Jay,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “How long can I stay here?”

Jay’s ever-present smile was replaced by a concerned frown. “I thought you knew? Stella, you can’t exist in two different worlds at once. The longer you spend here in your painting, the more your real self fades away. Isn’t that what you wanted? To escape the troubles of your real life?”

“I -” Stella’s voice faltered as she considered his words. Did she really need to go back? Here, she had friends who understood her and an opportunity to live happily and do art without any expectations. Her real life was just stress, loneliness, and sadness - nothing to truly draw her back in.

Moments slipped away as Stella sat in silence, her heart racing. She didn’t notice the rain that had begun to pour outside until a boom of thunder ripped her from her turbulent thoughts and brought her back to the present, Jay watching her with worry. The lightning flashing outside was turning the once-peaceful cafe into a tense prison.

Suddenly, the air sparked ominously. Stella was flooded by the same unsettled feeling that she’d experienced that day in her studio, and deep down, she knew she had to make a choice.

“It’s time, Stella,” Jay warned gravely. “You don’t have long. So what will it be?”

Images from Stella’s life flashed through her mind - the smiles she’d once shared with her family, the happy moments she’d had with Lia, the lively city that she would grow to miss. She thought of her best friend, probably frantic with worry. She thought of her art and all of the unfinished paintings in her studio, dreams and opportunities that she hadn’t had the chance to pursue. And finally, she thought of her family - as terrible as their fight had been, could she really leave them behind forever? Yes, the laughter and freedom of this world was intoxicating, but it was all fake. She needed to find her own happiness, not take the illusion that had been handed to her.

“I have to go back,” she realized, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t leave my life behind.” Thunder crashed even more loudly, seeming to shake the world.

“Goodbye, Stella.” A bittersweet smile crossed Jay’s face. “I hope you can find happiness when you return.”

“Say bye to everyone else for me,” Stella whispered, hugging Jay tightly. “And thank you for everything.” She took one last look at the cafe around her as the tables and counters began to rattle, rain pounding the windows. A flash of light filled the room before everything went dark.

When Stella regained her senses, she was sitting on the floor of her studio. The city painting was still perched on the canvas in front of her. Stella took a deep breath as she thought of the people she’d met, the happiness she’d felt, and the creativity that had flowed through her. Suddenly, she was filled with a sense of determination. Now that she knew what that felt like, how could she continue living like this? It was time for her to paint her own future.

Climbing to her feet, Stella reached for her phone and turned it on, ignoring the notifications that crowded the screen. She held her breath and pressed on the number that she hadn’t called in months, biting her lips as the phone seemed to ring on and on and on before finally going through.

“Mom?”

Many hours and a great deal of tears later, Stella’s delicate relationship with her parents was on its way to being repaired. She then reached out to Lia, who welcomed her back with open arms and invitations to meet up. The loneliness that had clouded her mind for so long was lifting and letting the sun shine through, powered by her newfound courage.

Stella also began painting again, each work a testament to her replenished strength and creativity. To her surprise, her art was flourishing, vibrant colors dancing across the canvas and expressing the happiness she was feeling. She began daring to experiment with new styles and bold strokes. A surge of joy took over her when she received an offer to have her art showcased in a prestigious gallery, later celebrating with her friends and family.

As she stood in the art gallery, greeting visitors and explaining her artwork, she gazed around the crowded room, heart bursting with happiness and pride. Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat as she caught a fleeting glimpse of raven hair and green eyes. But then the crowd shifted and the figure was gone, leaving nothing but a smile on Stella’s lips and a memory in her mind.

It seemed that Stella’s trip to the world of her painting was not only magical, but unearthed a magic within her that seeped into every brushstroke she made onto a canvas. She had found the path back to herself and was finally able to live happily.