Chapter 2
Sophie asked herself, 'Can I really do this?' as if she were being pulled back into that whirlpool of confusion all over again.
Just as Sophie was getting swallowed up by her emotions, a phone call from Michael broke through her thoughts. "Sophie, go to that illustration exhibition. I already got the tickets!"
"An illustration exhibition?" Sophie froze for a second. She'd heard about it for ages. It was known for gathering works from some of the biggest illustrators in the field, and it was definitely the kind of place where she could learn a lot.
"Yeah. It's Edward Grant's exhibition. We should go check out his work and see if it sparks something," Michael said, his voice full of anticipation.
"Edward Grant... that famous illustrator?" Sophie's thoughts immediately came alive. "I think... maybe I should go."
"Exactly. Looking at great work can fire up your own creativity too. Once you've seen your own potential, you've got to be brave enough to face it." Michael's words were like a breeze sweeping the clouds from her heart, and little by little, Sophie's mood began to brighten.
"Okay. I'll go!" Sophie finally made up her mind. She was done circling the same doubts. Later, when she stepped outside, even the sunlight and the street noise felt strangely alive. With every step, the courage and confidence growing inside her felt more real.
A new strength filled her heart as she looked forward to the upcoming illustration exhibition. It wasn't just another show to visit; it felt like a sweet hint of a brand-new beginning, as if the edge of that dream were slowly opening to her.
When Sophie pushed open the front door, the stale, heavy air nearly crushed what little energy she had left. The dim house and weak kitchen light only sharpened the distance between her and her mother. She had barely reached the living room when Linda's voice cut through the air. "You're home late again!"
"Mom, I was just working late." Sophie tried her best to keep her tone steady. She really didn't want to fight about this.
"Working late? You've never been this busy before." Disdain and worry mixed in Linda's voice. "Why don't you get a stable job instead? What future is there in illustration?"
Sophie's chest tightened. Years of expectations and pressure tangled together at that moment. She tried to look strong in front of Linda, but she couldn't deny how fragile she felt inside. "I just want to do what I want to do, Mom... I want to be an illustrator."
"Illustration? Look at Daniel next door. He works for a big company now and makes over thirty grand a month!" Linda grew more worked up the more she spoke. "You're always messing around like this. Are you seriously planning to live like this forever?"
Sophie's pride felt like it was being ripped apart by every invisible accusation. She felt helpless, like a bird caught in a trap, like she'd never be able to spread her wings again. She tried to explain, but in the end her voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. "I really want to try..."
"Enough!" Linda's voice nearly shook the whole house. "You're still young. You can chase those things after you have a stable life. Don't you get that?"
Anger and defiance surged up in Sophie. She thought of her talks with Michael, of the passion and sparks he'd stirred in her, of all the wishes she'd once spoken so lightly. Biting her lip, she forced herself to stay calm. Then the words she'd held in for so long finally burst out: "I don't want to keep living the way you want me to. I want to chase my own dream!"
Linda froze as a few items clattered to the floor. Silence spread between them, making the distance between mother and daughter feel even starker. A pang of regret rose in Sophie. Had she gone too far?
"I just want you to have a good life. And if your dream clashes with survival, then yes, I'll choose what I think is the right road for you." Linda lowered her head, her voice trembling slightly as she once again tried to justify her need to control Sophie.
"I know you're doing it because you care about me, but I have to live for myself," Sophie said, her voice catching, before hurrying toward her room. The string inside her felt stretched so tight it was on the verge of snapping.
Behind her bedroom door, Sophie leaned back and tried to steady herself, but the mess of paintings and books offered no comfort. Her phone buzzed at her side, and she ignored it.
When it vibrated again, it finally pulled her out of her thoughts. It was a text from Mike: [Want to hit the bar tonight? Something fun's going on.]
Some of the tension in her chest eased, and she replied: [I'll head over in a bit. Thanks. You always know how to help me relax.]
Mike texted back: [Then hurry up!] Even through the screen, his warmth and concern made her feel a little calmer. She couldn't help thinking about how fearlessly he chased his own dreams, and that determination lit a small spark of hope inside her.
"Yeah. I need to figure out how to break out of this," Sophie muttered to herself. The suffocating heaviness inside her eased a little as she made up her mind: she wasn't going to keep running anymore, not from her mother and not from herself.
She flipped through those sketches again, and the thought of the illustration contest rose back up in her mind. Neon lights flashed outside the window while those hazy dreams crossed before her eyes. Maybe it was time to break free of these restraints and find a voice that truly belonged to her.