#This art is my birthday present to myself lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bisonaari · 5 months ago

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Käärijä Summer Camp report

I don't really come here anymore and I don't think I'll be back anytime soon, but I still wanted to make a post about this! It's probably gonna be pretty long hahaha

Last time I travelled with my husband, but this time with the amount of things to do and people to meet, he preferred staying at home and took care of our little balcony garden <3 Thanks to him we now have a full ass jungle on our balcony lol

My flights were really uneventful. My first flight to europe was so empty that I had a full row to myself so I could have some good sleep time (albeit a bit uncomfy lol, plane seats are so hard), but that was it.

When I got to Helsinki, I was welcomed by a bunch of GOOFS omg

@mitamicah @j-restlessgeek @teal-skull @katinkulta @clovermoonspell and her friend from Norway were all there, Micah and Susanna arriving a bit earlier than me. We all went to the place I was going to share with Missy, Susanna and @kaarijalist for the next two days.

Those people. Are the best. I fucking love them so much you have no idea. Everyone I'll tag in this post is an absolute cutie that I love but I'LL SAY IT EVERYTIME Skull gave me my birthday present in advance and I just BWAAAAAHH that was so sweet ;A; It was a Jukka autograph that they got for me back in Böle (now framed in my living room ehehehe) and a custom bracelet for me, inspired by my kääryle tattoo ;A; I loved it so ridiculously much it was ADORABLE

I learnt later that day that I wouldn't be able to meet @likearainbowinthedark until much later in my trip and it was a bit sad, I really missed them ;A; Friendship at first sight during february, and now I have to wait MORE to see their face again??? UNFAIR!! And also I had made little crochet frogs for them and their wife ohoho I couldn't wait to give them to their new owners <3

We also met with @formulalakana and @carpblu at a cafe during the afternoon! I was a bit burnt out by the whole you know… flying 12 hours thingie, so I ended up going back to our place but it was still lovely meeting with them they are amazing people!!

The day after that was the actual Summer Camp meet up day!! We all met at the mural together with many people already tagged here, but also @jaarijani @smimon @icbimakb and @tuherrus !! I can't believe that we just started to talk on tumblr and we were all there???? In person??? In front of that stupid Käärijä mural, exchanging bracelets and laughing together? That was just amazing

After a group picture, it was raining too much to have a proper picnic, so we went to the Tikkurila library to actually have some time to hangout and share snacks and gifts from our countries, and draw on each other's clothes and notebooks hahaha. A really, really lovely time with everyone, I'm so happy it went so well. On one side of the room was the Summer Camp flag that Skull had made, and to me it was perfect.

I also was sitting next to icbimakb and I had some time to nerd out to them because they're my fav artist of all time and they let me look at their sketchbook and it was an honor and I don't think that my eyes will ever recover from looking at so much beautiful art. @shirtlessradfahrer arrived at about that time as well.

A bit later we were joined by @follivora @wednesdayday @king-krisu and @khihi !! They didn't stay long but it was fun to finally meet after seeing them on tumblr for such a long time !! Some of us went to queuing, the rest of us stayed to clean up and we went to the venue a bit later <3

The Backas gig was one of the greatest moments of my life. Seriously. Everything went SO WELL??? Missy, Susanna and I headed out to the vip area for the pre show meal, and the food was amazing seriously. I wish I could have eaten about 3000 more of those fucking potatoes they were INCREDIBLE. We were looking at people running for barricade with tenderness hahaha, like "Look at our children <3 So much energy". Then suddenly, Missy spotted him. The Häärijä. Chatting to people next to the merch booth. She had to stop eating immediately because she had gifts to give him, and there might not be any other occasion to do so. I also handed her the fanzines because I'm a bit too shy and I don't have anything to say to Häärijä hahaha.

Part of my Backas report in a previous post ! I'll just focus on the untold parts here

At the venue it was time to meet @hyviihommi and @omppupiiras and also @blatantlyhidden and @because-its-eurovision !!! And wait also @tmrwds and @taidotonheiluja and some more people that I don't know the url of but I know are fellow tumblr users!!

I can't say how much I loved this gig. Hugo was really great, he looks so much like jere when he was younger hahaha. Käärijä was in SUCH a great mood, he was smiling so much and having the time of his life being on stage that day I don't think I'll ever recover. It felt so good being there and having an artist in front of us who was having a blast. I was dancing with Skull and Missy (my immediate neighbours hahaha), looking at Micah and Carpblu having a blast in front of us, enjoying the music that I had been listening for more than a year now with other people who also loved the same music. It was such an experience I will never forget this. We also got Paidaton riehuja!! I did remove my shirt hahaha. If I wasn't wearing a mesh shirt and a bra I would have gone full tits out hahaha, but it was too much of a hassle. But it was SO FUN being able to take part in this!!!

I don't usually listen to It's Crazy It's Party, but live?? It's seriously top 10 of the greatest moments of my life. Seeing everyone around me going fucking insane was incredible and I wish I could go back to those moments.

After the show, we stayed around a bit to chat more. We took another group picture, who is absolutely perfect and I will cherish forever.

Our little group went back to our appartment by taxi and we missed the occasion to say taksit on jo pihalla I'm very disappointed smh

We were already losing our minds because of how well the meetup and the gig went and everyone getting to see their blorbos and have pictures and chats with them, when Missy looked at her phone and SCREAMED because Häärijä had made a story with the fanzine holy shit. You don't know how fucking proud I was. I think I looked at it for 5 hours straight hahaha. He doesn't know how a video that probably took him 5 minutes to film and post made every artist's day it was INCREDIBLE.

(this is a terrible selfie but whatever HAHAHA)

On thursday, it was matching tattoos time!! I am now the proud owner of a pineapple tattoo, matching with Missy, Jay, Cass and Micah. I am ridiculously happy to have it. I feel like we really are a weird family and I found my people. I love it so, so much.

Got to meet with @pianist-chan that day as well!! We all had a lovely picnic together as a group in a park, then one song at a karaoke bar! Micah and I didn't vibe with the bar so after a huge peak of anxiety we all decided to leave hahaha. It was lovely hanging out with everyone anyway so whatever hahaha.

Friday was the Allas gig!! I met up with the gang in the morning to go eat breakfast together, and we ended up getting @hika-chachachan at the same time after we both discovered that we're not the only french fan here HAHAHA. Sorry for everyone with us, we spoke in french most of the meal time because it was fun not having to speak in english for a short time hahaha. Later that day, we took a picture making the JUL sign, the only correct pose for cringe french people uWu

Then I went back to my hostel for a nice nap, got some food with Kat and then finally joined the queue one hour before doors. (I got to see @izpira-se-zlato and @n3ongold3n there! And also I could hug Bec again 💚) We got a pretty nice spot so I'm not disappointed! Although this time Jukka didn't notice me but it's fine I can't win everytime hahaha. The gig was also a lot of fun, nothing much to say here! I didn't realize at that time that it was my last time of this trip seeing Elsa, and I only fully realized it after she left :' ( I would have hugged you a lot harder hahaha

Saturday, Benjamin Peltonen and Erika Vikman gig with the kcord gang!! Before that I went to eat lunch with Cass!! It was sad saying bye, but I really had a fun time with them ;A; <3

I was super late for the gig and arrived after doors because that one guy in my hostel didn't realize that THERE IS ONLY ONE TUMBLE DRYER FOR THE ENTIRE HOSTEL DON'T LEAVE YOUR CLOTHES HERE AFTER THEY'RE DONE. URGH. He told me he just went to take a shower because it was taking too long WATCH YOUR GODDAMN CLOTHES MY DUDE I was so annoyed hahaha

Another session of meeting up with new people! This time I got to chat with @labda-kesho @beesgobzzzing and @dragon0blood and some more people I don't know the url of!! Anyway we had a great time! Benjamin looks like an angel, and Erika is…… you know how Erika is I don't need to tell yall HAHAHA. Everything would have been perfect without the extremely drunk girls around us spilling their drinks everywhere and literally falling on people. They had to be escorted out during Erika's part because they were way too annoying for everyone.

On sunday I FINALLY MET WITH EKO YIPPIE IT WAS TIME. I went to visit them in Espoo and ended up staying chatting with them for like 5 hours big oops hahaha we get along so well it felt like 10 minutes ;A; It was also my first time taking the bus by myself in Finland like a big girl!!! For the tram Elsa helped me so I could take it alone after she showed me how to, but the bus to another city?? That was a first one my mother is very proud

Monday, I went to Suomenlinna! When I lived in France 20 years ago, I lived right next to the ocean in a coastal city. Then we moved inland in Canada and you don't know how much I miss the ocean every single day. It's the #1 thing I miss about living in France, so I HAD to go to Suomenlinna. First of all, being on a boat again was so great, I really had missed that. It reminded me of the ferries I used to go on to travelfrom my dad's place to my grandma's place. Great times hahaha. Then I just wandered around for three hours, minding my own business and avoiding people hahaha. I sat next to the sea listening to the waves for hours. And it was the BEST. I think it cured me of 28 mental illnesses I didn't know I had.

On tuesday, I met with Eko once again but in Helsinki this time! We went to get tea together and chatted for another couple of hours HAHAHA. Teemaa in Helsinki is a lovely tea shop and you should definitely go!! I also went to the Skywheel on my way back I just HAD to yknow, Käärijä tourism

After I got back to the hostel, it was packing time to leave Helsinki for other horizons.

PART 2: OUTSIDE OF THE CIRCLE

My next stop was Oulu! So I headed out to the train station on wednesday morning to go on a 6 hours journey hahaha. At least it was a direct train, and the guy next to me was only here from Tampere to Seinäjoki, so I still had quite a lot of space for myself.

Once in Oulu, I was staying with @theplantbish and her partner. I cannot say how much I love her. There are not enough words to express this. The other people I immediately fell in love with I had already met them prior, so no surprises here! (Yall know who you are hahaha) But it was our first time meeting and it was like we already knew each other from 25 years ago. We went from total strangers to great friends in about 5 seconds, and then it took two days to have heartfelt late night conversations crying in each other's arms lol. Anyway this whole paragraph is a love letter to Plant you are amazing and I love you. I can't believe that in two weeks we got to talking on a daily basis hahaha.

Anyway, we also met with @gaysontoast because we went to pick them at the airport and WOW what a tornado of bubbliness <3 They were absolutely wonderful to have as a roommate!! (and they sleep like the dead hahaha)

In the afternoon it was my first time meeting with @submariini and @ravensofskyhold as well! I'm scared that I will run out of available tag spaces like you can only tag 50 people per post lemme count a sec ok we're at 33 still good (but absolutely ridiculous that I got to meet 33 people from tumblr in the same week??? what happened to not meeting strangers from the internet lol) but anyway all lovely people!!

The day after, it was finally time for Suomipop!! In the morning we went to pick @punanenmarli from the train station! Plant and her got back to Plant's place walking hand in hand and it was the fucking cutest shit I had ever seen ;A;

We then met at suomipop for Bess! HOLY SHIT IS THAT WOMAN GORGEOUS??? HOW DARE SHE??? WHEN SHE EMPTIED THE WATER BOTTLE ON HER HEAD I JUST

anyway I was completely normal about this show. Hm. So normal. Even during the french part in Lähtee käsistä. So. Normal.

The others wanted to go see Kuumaa during the evening and I would have loved to as well, but it was raining, I was drenched and cold and miserable and instead just headed back to Plant's place where I was soooo normal about Bess.

On friday, it was my birthday, yippie!!! The clowns from kcord (NOT PEJORATIVE IT'S THEIR NAME OK) got me a card that they all signed and I loved it so much a a a a a a ;A;

We wanted front row for the Käärijä gig later in the evening, so we were there at doors and immediately went front row, which meant that we also got to listen to Viivi and Yö ! Tbh, I really liked Yö, I understand why they're a legendary band hahaha.

However, between the two shows, Plant came back to our group and told me that Jukka. Sorsa. Was. Hanging out. In the VIP section. Which we didn't have access to lol. So we ended up just watching him from afar, when I noticed that he and his friends were leaving the VIP section and crossing the festival area. I told it to Plant who asked me if I wanted to go see him but I was like naaaah I'm shy. So she asked if I wanted her to come with me and I immediately said yes HAHAHA. We went over his little group and when we arrived at about 10 feet from him we waved, and he immediately came to us to have a chat WHAT A MAN I LOVE HIM. I was so fucking awkward (leading to this great interaction… me: "I just wanted to say hi!" Jukka: "well… hi" AAAAAAA IT WAS SO AWKWARD LOL). He noticed the earrings I made out of the guitar plecs he gave me and reached for them sir excuse me do you want me dead hahaha. I didn't say much after that but we still got a picture together that Plant took for me ILYSM

I met with Kat, Lou and their friend just before the Käärijä show and it was amazing as usual. This man knows how to perform hahaha. WE ALSO HAD THIS WEIRD MID-SPEECH SHIT TALK??? JERE WH A T???

After Käärijä, we headed up towards the other stage to Kaija Koo. I was on my phone for I don't remember what, and Plant poked me to tell me "are you on your phone? how often in your life are you gonna see Kaija Koo live??" and she was so fucking right omg. I put my phone back in my pocket and it was absolutely great, got to hold hands with Plant while dancing, seriously amazing. One of my best birthdays ever if not THE best.

We had a meal at Hesburger after everything hahaha (I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS HESBURGER), and in the not quite night of Oulu, to me everything felt so, so right.

Saturday, I got to see Kat and Lou again for souvenir shopping! I GOT THE FUCKING BEST MAGNET IT SAYS PASKA MAGNEETTI AND I'M FUCKING CRYING NO ONE AT HOME WILL GET THE REFERENCE BUT I DO AND THAT'S WHAT MATTERS LOL

I said bye to Kat after that but it's so ridiculous we live in the same country LOL I should visit Toronto at some point

At Suomipop, we got to see first Portion Boys and they were so full of energy what a show!!! Nothing can stop them, not the heat, not the wheelchair, NOTHING.

Smitten, Omega and I got to dip our feet in the water at the suomipop beach and it was so needed the sun was HOT that day. The fact that we weren't allowed more than our feet in the water was a tragedy though smh

After that, it was time to my beloved ARTTU WISKARI, I got into his stuff just before flying for Finland so I was delighted he was going to be at Suomipop!! Ed came with me to see him what a gentleman lol (seriously tho I really, really appreciate it!!)

Last suomipop show for me was Elastinen! While watching him I could only think that this was the most shark looking man I had ever seen HAHAHA.

After Elastinen, the group went to see Apulanta, while I went back to Plant's appartment to pack my suitcase, sadly.

On sunday, it was time to take the train again. Plant took me to the train station and we ended up crying so much hahaha I was a mess in the train. But if it hurt so much, it's because it was equally fun, and I can't wait to see her again.

I was headed to Tampere, then Turku! Skull escorted me to my Airbnb they're so lovely ;A; We talked together for about 6 hours lol before I had to leave to do some laundry. While my clothes were in the washing machine, we explored the k-market to find some Pirkka merch but it was all gone, so I just got a lovely @windows95man shirt hahaha. COME BACK TO TUMBLR TEEMU YOU BELONG WITH US

The day after I met with Skull again to buy some Posankka merch! Posankka…… my beloved…… the most beautiful pigduck of Finland <3 I got a reflector, in true finnish fashion hahaha. We then headed up to Luostarinmäki, an open air museum on finnish craftsmanship from the past. It was ridiculously interesting and we spent 3 hours where we only got to half of the museum LOL, we're nerds. Too bad…… I'll have to come back to Turku……… so sad

In the evening we watched TRAFIK and some more Powerwolf music videos, what a great evening holy shit

Interestingly enough, on tuesday I met up with… Skull again lol, they joined me in the park in the afternoon, we stayed here for 2 hours until we left to go to a student bar to get a lovely hot chocolate <3 It was absolutely delicious!

Wednesday, last day in Finland. I met up with, you have guessed, Skull again lmao. We headed to Vantaa (because I had a plane to take r i p).

Skull and I then headed to Arttu Wiskari's Allas gig. We were quite lucky as the rain had just stopped (btw Kallo I still have the rain poncho I stole from you lol it's in Canada now sorry).

We had so, so much fun. The gig was just really fun and light hearted, everyone knew the lyrics, and it was the best ending for an amazing trip. Nothing like dancing with your friend on good music!!

I hugged Skull and cried in the train. Familiar scene, lol. Me sobbing in trains in Finland. I love you so much Kallo.

There are no words left in my heart to express how loved I felt during these 17 days. I will be back. I promise. I can't bear to not go back when I left pieces of my soul with dear friends. Take care of them please, I'll be back to put some more of my soul in them. I love you. So very much. You made my life really bright for a short time, and knowing how good it can be to be alive I want to feel this again.

To all of you, who are my soulmates, my siblings, my loved ones, my beloved: thank you.

#käärijä #bison talks #long post #finland #suomi #sorry I'm such a sap hahaha #it took me like three hours to write this post lol

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muiitoloko · 9 months ago

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Hi! I've been devouring your alan fics so much! They're so so so good! Do you do requests? If so I'm kinda craving for some platonic love 🫶. Is it alright to have an Eli x daughter reader? I don't have a specific plot in mind. I just want some fluff but to make it better add some angst.

But if you don't do requests, it's fine. Just ignore this lol. Just really love how you write!!

Title: Become a great artist.

Summary: He wanted you to become a great artist, so you did. But Eli realizes that you have always been a great artist.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Angst, Angst, Angst! Neglectful father, criticism, mention of rape, kidnapping, suicide, death.

Author's Notes: Thank you for reaching out and enjoying my stories. I have to admit, I got a bit carried away with this one. What started as an attempt to create something cute took an unexpected turn into anguish, and I found myself writing through tears. If this isn't what you were hoping for and you prefer something cute, just let me know, and I promise I'll whip up something adorable for you.

First, Second, Third and Fourth part here.

As the birthday celebration for your father, Eli, continued, you couldn't wait to unveil the gift you had painstakingly crafted for him. The table was already adorned with a collection of thoughtful presents, but yours was the final touch to the evening.

With a hopeful smile, you presented the oil painting you had spent countless hours creating. The canvas depicted a striking likeness of your father, Eli, capturing his essence in vibrant colors and intricate details.

But as Eli glanced at the painting, his expression remained unchanged, his lack of enthusiasm palpable. You felt a pang of disappointment as you looked at him expectantly, hoping for a more heartfelt reaction.

However, your mother, Sarah, sitting beside Eli, immediately took the painting into her hands, her eyes lighting up with admiration. "Oh, darling, this is absolutely beautiful!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're so talented!"

Your brother, Barkley, chimed in with his own praise, echoing your mother's sentiments. But despite their encouraging words, you couldn't shake the feeling of deflation at Eli's lackluster response.

As the dinner progressed, Eli seemed content to focus on his meal and his glass of wine, his attention drifting away from the festivities. You tried to console yourself with the thought that your father was simply not one to show emotions openly, but it still stung to see him so disinterested in your gift.

As Sarah noticed your hopeful expression towards Eli, she intervened with a comment meant to uplift your spirits. "You know, darling," she said, her voice warm and encouraging, "you have such a talent for art. You could be a great artist, like Van Gogh."

But Eli's response was not what you had expected. He scoffed dismissively, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Van Gogh? Please. The man cut off his own ear and ended up killing himself," he remarked, his words laced with derision. "Unless you're planning on following in his footsteps, I highly doubt you'll ever become a great artist. You know, the painter has to die for his works to become famous; that's how I see it, at least."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his cutting remark, your heart sinking at the realization that your father saw little value in your passion and talents. Hanging your head in disappointment, you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Sarah shot Eli a reproachful glance, her eyes flashing with indignation at his insensitive remark. "Eli, that's enough," she scolded, her voice firm and resolute. "There's no need to be so cruel."

But Eli remained indifferent to his wife's reproach, his attention already drifting back to his meal. Ignoring Sarah's scolding, he continued to sip his wine, his disinterest in your feelings painfully evident.

Forced to put on a brave face, you mustered a weak smile and nodded in response to your mom's apology. "It's okay, Mom," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

But inside, your heart ached with the weight of Eli's disappointment and disapproval. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the dinner continued, you tried to push aside your hurt feelings and focus on enjoying the rest of the evening. But deep down, you couldn't shake the sense of inadequacy that your father's words had stirred within you, a painful reminder of your status as the perpetual disappointment in his eyes. But you forced a smile onto your face, and you were happy. After all, it was a night to celebrate. It was your father's birthday, and everyone should be happy. You turned to your brother and started an animated conversation with him, talking about everything and nothing.

And so, the night passed until you and your brother said goodbye and prepared to leave. However, as you made your way to your car, you realized that you couldn't find your keys in your pocket. It suddenly dawned on you that you had forgotten them at your parents' house. As you approached your parents' house to retrieve the forgotten car key, you hesitated for a moment outside the door, the voices of your parents drifting through the air. Initially, you thought they were just chatting or perhaps discussing plans for the next day, but as you listened more closely, the tone of their conversation sent shivers down your spine.

"...at least pretend to be happy about her gift," Sarah's voice, tinged with frustration, reached your ears first.

Eli's response was immediate, his tone dismissive and biting. "Why should I pretend, Sarah? It's just another one of her silly paintings. If she wants to waste her time on that nonsense, fine. But don't expect me to pretend it's anything more than that."

You felt a pang of hurt at your dad's words, his lack of appreciation for your efforts cutting deeper than you cared to admit. As Sarah attempted to defend your gift, Eli's retort struck you like a physical blow.

"And what was that comment about having to kill herself to be a great artist? Honestly, Eli, can't you see how hurtful that is?" Sarah's voice, filled with exasperation and sadness, echoed your own feelings of disappointment.

Eli rolled his eyes, his impatience evident in his voice. "Oh, please. I was just being realistic. She's not going to make it as an artist, no matter how much you coddle her. And besides, if she's dumb enough to think her paintings will make her a great artist, then maybe she deserves a reality check."

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the weight of your dad's words settled heavily on your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the argument between your parents reached its peak, you forced yourself to open the door and step inside, your head hung low as you made your way to the counter where you had left your car key. Your parents fell silent as they watched you, their expressions filled with surprise and concern.

Picking up the key with trembling hands, you turned to face them, your voice barely above a whisper as you addressed them. "I forgot my key. I'll just...I'll see you later," you mumbled, your heart heavy with disappointment as you turned and made your way back outside.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling of despair that settled over you like a dark cloud. Despite your best efforts to please your father, it seemed that you would forever be a disappointment in his eyes. And as you drove away from your parents' house, tears streaming down your cheeks, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever be able to escape the shadow of your dad's disapproval.

As you drove home, your vision blurred by tears, you couldn't shake the weight of your father's harsh words. Each syllable echoed in your mind like a cruel refrain, cutting deeper than any knife ever could. The familiar scent of paint greeted you as you entered your apartment, your sanctuary, your studio. But instead of finding solace in the comforting aroma, it only served to remind you of your own inadequacy in your father's eyes.

With trembling hands, you made your way through the cluttered space, your eyes falling on the canvases scattered around the room. Each painting, a testament to your passion and talent, now felt like a mockery of your futile efforts to win your father's approval.

In a moment of overwhelming despair, you lashed out, sweeping your arm across the nearest table, sending brushes, paints, and canvases crashing to the floor in a cacophony of destruction. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed through the room, matching the turmoil raging within your own heart.

As you stood amidst the wreckage, tears streaming down your cheeks, you felt a sense of catharsis wash over you. With each shattered piece of paintbrush and torn canvas, you released a fragment of the pain and frustration that had been building inside you for so long.

But even as you succumbed to the chaos of your emotions, a flicker of determination stirred within you. You knew that there was only one thing that could ease the ache in your heart, only one outlet for the storm of emotions raging within you: painting.

With renewed purpose, you retrieved a fresh canvas and a palette of vibrant colors, your hands moving with a sense of urgency born from desperation. With each brushstroke, you poured your heart and soul onto the canvas, channeling your pain and anguish into a whirlwind of color and emotion.

Hours passed in a blur as you painted through the night, your movements fluid and instinctual, driven by a need to escape the suffocating weight of your father's disapproval. Each stroke of the brush was a release, a cathartic expression of the turmoil raging within you.

You painted sadness, despair, and chaos, each image a reflection of the tumultuous storm that raged within your own soul. But amidst the darkness, there was also beauty, a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of pain and uncertainty.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, you stepped back to admire your work, the exhaustion of the night weighing heavily on your shoulders. But despite the weariness that threatened to consume you, there was also a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of the emotions that had driven you to create.

With a heavy heart and aching limbs, you collapsed onto the floor beside your paintings, the tears finally drying on your cheeks as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep. And as you drifted off into the realm of dreams, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had your art, you would always find a way to weather the storm.

Days later, despite the emotional turmoil you had experienced, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar pattern of seeking your father's approval. It was a habit ingrained deeply within you, a longing to win even a sliver of recognition from a man who seemed perpetually out of reach.

But then, news came in a surprising package: your father, Eli, had won the Nobel Prize. The announcement came through your mother, Sarah, who couldn't contain her excitement as she relayed the incredible news to you and your brother, Barkley.

Filled with a mix of disbelief and pride, you made a point to visit your parents' house to congratulate your father in person. As you entered the room, Eli's face lit up with a rare smile at the sight of you, a genuine warmth in his eyes that you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Congratulations, Dad!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement as you rushed forward to embrace him. Your dad returned the hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising tenderness, a gesture that felt unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eli said, his voice tinged with pride as he pulled away to look at you. "I couldn't have done it without the support of my family."

You beamed at his words, a surge of happiness flooding through you at the rare display of affection from your father. In that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of the bond that had been strained for so long.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself sharing a moment of camaraderie with your father, a sense of connection that had eluded you for years. You laughed together, reminisced about old memories, and even shared a toast to celebrate your father's incredible achievement.

And amidst the laughter and joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to share this moment with your father. Despite the years of disappointment and frustration, you cherished this fleeting glimpse of the man behind the facade of arrogance and indifference.

As the night came to an end, and the celebrations had taken their toll, you found yourself in a state of inebriation that made driving impossible. Eli, being the responsible parent, decided to take you home. However, getting you into the car turned out to be a bit of a challenge.

You were feeling particularly stubborn and silly, bouncing around the living room with an air of joviality. "I'm the Nobel Prize winner's daughter!" you exclaimed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you twirled around the room. "And my father is a geniuuus" you sang, your voice filled with laughter.

Eli couldn't help but suppress a smile at your antics, his eyes rolling with amusement as he watched you dance around the room. But when Sarah voiced her concerns and urged you to be careful, Eli knew it was time to intervene.

With a gentle sigh, he made his way over to you, his arms outstretched in a gesture of patience and understanding. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with affection as he reached out to scoop you up in his arms. "It's time to go home."

You giggled uncontrollably as Eli lifted you off the ground, your arms wrapping around his neck in a playful embrace. "But Daaaad!" you protested, your words slurring slightly with intoxication. "Can't we stop by McDonald's?"

Eli chuckled softly at your request, shaking his head in amusement as he made his way towards the door. "Maybe next time, sweetheart," he replied, his tone gentle yet firm as he carried you towards the waiting car.

As you waved goodbye to your mother over your father's shoulder, a sense of warmth and contentment washed over you, despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses. And as your dad carefully buckled you into the car, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the rare moment of connection shared between father and daughter, even in the midst of your drunken antics.

As Eli drove to your apartment, he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle at your off-key singing, the melody of your voice filling the car with a sense of lightheartedness amidst the chaos of the night. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, his daughter, swaying in the passenger seat with a carefree grin on your face.

Ignoring your playful antics, Eli focused on the road ahead, navigating the familiar streets with practiced ease. But despite his outward composure, there was a sense of relief in his heart as he guided the car towards your apartment, knowing that he had managed to get you home safely despite the challenges of the evening.

As the two of you arrived at your apartment building, Eli turned to you with a concerned expression, his brow furrowed with worry. "Do you think you'll be able to make it up to your apartment on your own?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

You nodded in response, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you reassured him. "Don't worry, Dad, I'll be fine," you slurred slightly, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in your system. "Thank you for getting me home."

Eli softened at your words, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he reached out to gently pat your hand. "I'm always worried about your safety, sweetheart," he admitted, his voice quiet and sincere. "Just promise me you'll take a shower and get some rest, okay?"

You nodded in agreement, your head bobbing slightly as you struggled to maintain your balance. "I promise, Dad," you replied, your words muffled by a yawn as exhaustion began to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

With a gentle smile, Eli helped you out of the car and escorted you to the entrance of the building, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he made sure you would enter safely. "Take care, sweetheart," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of fatherly affection. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You waved goodbye to your father, a playful grin spreading across your face as you stumbled towards the entrance of the building. "I'll paint a picture of you with your Nobel Prize!" you called out, your words slurred but filled with determination.

Eli rolled his eyes at your drunken proclamation, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "Don't waste your time on that," he replied, his tone teasing yet affectionate. "Just focus on getting some rest."

As you stumbled through the doorway and disappeared from sight, Eli stayed parked outside the building, his gaze lingering on the entrance with a sense of lingering concern. Despite his dismissive words, there was a part of him that couldn't help but worry about you, his daughter, stumbling through the darkness alone.

He knew he was tough on you sometimes, but he just wanted you to be better, to have the best, and he knew his silly paintings wouldn't give him that.

With a heavy sigh, he finally pulled away from the curb and began the journey back home, the events of the evening swirling through his mind as he navigated the empty streets. And as he drove through the quiet night, a sense of gratitude washed over him, knowing that despite the challenges and complexities of their relationship, he would always be there to watch over you, his beloved daughter.

Meanwhile, you went up to your apartment, fumbling a little with your keys before getting in, falling straight onto the couch tiredly. Despite the alcohol-induced haze clouding your mind, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and warmth lingering within you. The evening spent with your father, Eli, had been unexpectedly pleasant, filled with laughter and genuine moments of connection that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As you settled onto the couch, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind, savoring each precious memory like a cherished treasure. Despite Eli's usual indifference and tendency to dismiss your passions, you had managed to share a moment of genuine camaraderie with him, a glimmer of the father-daughter bond that had been strained for so long.

In that moment, you felt a surge of love and gratitude towards Eli, a flicker of hope that perhaps, despite his flaws and shortcomings, he did care about you in his own way. You drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face, the warmth of the evening wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

But days later, your sense of security and reassurance would be shattered in an instant, replaced by a chilling realization that would rock you to your core. Bound and gagged, staring into the face of your kidnapper, you felt a sense of disbelief and terror wash over you as they dialed your parents' number, putting the call on speaker for you to hear.

As the voice of your father, Eli, echoed through the room, you held your breath, desperately hoping for a glimmer of compassion or concern in his words. But what you heard instead sent a shockwave of pain ripping through your chest, leaving you reeling in disbelief and agony.

"I'm not giving you two million dollars for her," Eli's voice, cold and dismissive, cut through the silence like a knife. "She's not worth that much."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, crushing any lingering hope or illusion you had held onto about your father's love and affection. In that moment, you realized with devastating clarity that Eli's indifference towards you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, his actions speaking volumes about the true extent of his disregard for your well-being.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled against the bonds that held you captive, the weight of Eli's betrayal bearing down on you like a heavy burden. How could he abandon you like this, in your darkest hour of need? How could he place a price tag on your life, as if you were nothing more than a disposable commodity?

As the reality of your situation sank in, you felt a sense of despair and hopelessness wash over you, threatening to consume you whole. And in that moment of darkness, the flicker of love and gratitude you had felt towards Eli was extinguished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of betrayal and abandonment.

"I'm not joking," the kidnapper insisted, his tone cold and merciless. "I want two million dollars, and I want it now. If you don't pay up, she'll suffer the consequences."

How could your father refuse to pay for your freedom? The realization that he considered you unworthy of such a sum was like a dagger to your chest, leaving you gasping for air as you struggled to comprehend his callous indifference.

Meanwhile, in his hotel room in Stockholm, Eli ended the call with a dismissive flick of his wrist, his mind already moving on to other matters. When Sarah questioned him about the call, he brushed it off with a casual shrug, dismissing it as unimportant.

"No one important," he replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Just some prank caller trying to get a rise out of me."

But little did Eli know, as he lounged in his luxurious surroundings, that his daughter's life hung in the balance, her fate at the mercy of a ruthless kidnapper who saw her as nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

Back in the dimly lit room where you were held captive, the kidnapper crouched in front of you, his eyes filled with uncertainty as he pondered his next move. The prospect of not receiving the ransom he had demanded left him feeling conflicted, unsure of what to do with you now that his plans had been thwarted.

"What am I supposed to do with you now?" the kidnapper muttered, taking the gag off of you, his voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. "If your daddy won't pay, then what's the point of keeping you around?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words, fear and panic gripping you in their icy embrace. The thought of what he might do to you now, with no hope of rescue in sight, sent shivers down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to keep your composure.

But your terror only intensified as you saw the hungry look in the kidnapper's eyes, a predatory gleam that sent a chill down your spine. You knew what he was thinking, could see the lust and desire written plainly on his face, and the realization filled you with a sense of helpless dread.

"No, please," you begged, your voice trembling with fear as you pleaded with him. "Don't do this. Please, just let me go."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the kidnapper's gaze lingered hungrily on you, his lips curling into a sinister smile that sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. In that moment, you knew with chilling certainty that your fate was sealed, that there would be no rescue, no salvation from the horrors that awaited you.

Desperate and terrified, you called out for your father, Eli, your voice cracking with anguish as you begged him to intervene, to save you from the nightmare unfolding before your eyes. But deep down, you knew that he would never come to your rescue, just as he had never come to your aid on that fateful day when you first learned to ride a bike, falling and crying out for him, only to be met with silence and indifference.

And as you lay in the hospital bed, staring at the blank white ceiling above you, memories of your father flood your mind like a torrential downpour. You can't help but think back to that day when you were just a child, learning to ride a bike for the first time. You remember the excitement in your heart as you pedaled furiously down the street, the wind rushing through your hair as you gained speed.

But then, disaster struck, and you lost your balance, tumbling to the ground in a heap of scraped knees and tears. Through the blur of pain and disappointment, you cried out for your father, hoping for his comforting embrace to soothe your wounded pride. But he was nowhere to be found, lost in his own world of ambitions and achievements, too preoccupied to spare a moment for his injured child.

That day was just one of many in a long list of your father's neglectful moments, a pattern of behavior that had shaped your relationship with him for as long as you could remember. From missed recitals to forgotten birthdays, Eli's indifference had left an indelible mark on your psyche, a wound that festered with each passing disappointment.

And today was just one more addition to that list, a stark reminder of your father's priorities and his lack of concern for anything or anyone outside of his own ambitions. As you lay in the hospital bed, grappling with the aftermath of your ordeal, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you, a bitter acceptance of the fact that your father would never change.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital room, your brother Barkley paces back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as he anxiously dials your parents' number. After several rings, his father Eli finally answers, his voice tinged with annoyance as he questions Barkley's reason for calling.

"What is it, Barkley?" Eli snaps, his tone curt and dismissive as he brushes off his son's attempt to interrupt his celebration. "I'm in the middle of something important. This better be worth disturbing me."

Barkley takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that he knows is about to unfold. "Dad, it's about [Your Name]," he says, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "She's in the hospital."

Eli's response was immediate, his tone shifting from annoyance to genuine concern as he pressed Barkley for more information. "What do you mean she's in the hospital?" he demanded, his voice tinged with panic. "Is she okay? Explain this properly."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Barkley relayed the details of the situation as best as he could. "She was found abandoned in a dirty alley," he explained, his voice trembling with emotion. "Some people called 911, and she was taken to the hospital. They tried to call you and Mom, but you didn't answer, so they called me."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line as Eli processed the gravity of the situation. Despite his usual self-centered demeanor, a flicker of concern and fear crept into his voice as he responded. "Is she okay? What happened to her?"

Barkley hesitates for a moment before delivering the next piece of devastating information. "The doctor said she was raped and assaulted," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They found evidence of trauma...down there."

Eli's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to process the horrifying news. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice filled with shock and disbelief. "Is she...is she conscious? Can she talk?"

Barkley's heart aches as he shakes his head, the weight of the situation bearing down on him like a leaden weight. "No, she's not talking to anyone," he replies, his voice choked with tears. "She's just...staring into space."

Eli's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to comprehend the extent of his daughter's suffering. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor said she's in shock," Barkley explains, his words coming out in a rush. "They're doing everything they can for her, but...but we need to be there, Dad. She needs us."

Tears welled up in Eli's eyes as he listened to his son's words, the weight of his daughter's suffering bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm coming," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Tell her...tell her I'm coming to her. I'll be there soon."

As Barkley looked out the window, his heart sank at the sight of you lying motionless in the hospital bed. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him as he listened to your father's voice crackle over the phone, his words filled with a mixture of concern and desperation.

"Dad, I don't know what to do," Barkley confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "She's not responding, she's just...staring into space."

But before he could say anything else, Eli's voice cut through the air, his tone strained with worry. "She'll be fine, Barkley. She has to be," he insisted, but Barkley could hear the uncertainty in his father's voice, the underlying fear that threatened to consume him.

Barkley nodded weakly, his own doubts and fears swirling inside him as he struggled to find the strength to comfort his sister. "I know, Dad. I just...I wish there was more I could do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eli fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air between them. "Just be there for her, Barkley. That's all we can do," he said finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

As the call ended and the limo sped towards the nearest airport, Sarah clung to Eli's side, her own worry etched across her face. "Is she going to be okay?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Eli wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close in a comforting embrace. "She'll be fine, Sarah. She has to be," he repeated, but his words sounded hollow even to his own ears, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience.

Meanwhile, in the hospital room in California, Barkley walked in and approached your bedside, his heart heavy with worry. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently as he tried to find the right words to say.

"I talked to Mom and Dad," he began softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Dad's coming, you know. He'll be here soon."

But you remained silent, your gaze fixed on nothing as you lay there unmoving. Barkley felt a pang of sadness in his chest at your lack of response, the weight of your suffering bearing down on him like a heavy burden.

"I know how much you love Dad," Barkley continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "Maybe when he gets here, you'll snap out of this. Maybe you'll come back to us."

But as he spoke, Barkley couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut, the fear that you might never be the same again. And as he sat there holding your hand, surrounded by the sterile scent of the hospital room, he prayed silently for a miracle to bring you back to them.

But you remained silent, your usually vibrant personality seemingly extinguished by the traumatic events you had endured. Barkley had never seen you so quiet; you were always the talker, the light of the family, bringing laughter and joy wherever you went. But now, the silence that surrounded you felt suffocating, like a heavy blanket weighing down on their already burdened hearts.

Days passed, and Barkley's fears began to materialize. Despite being released from the hospital, you remained distant and cold, your eyes hollow and devoid of the spark that once lit up your face. The only time you opened your mouth was to recount the harrowing details of your kidnapping and assault to the police at the hospital. After that, you retreated into yourself, shutting out the world and refusing to engage with anyone, not even your father, who had always seemed to be the center of your world.

"Barkley, I don't know what to do," Sarah confided in him one evening, her voice trembling with worry. "She won't talk to me, she won't talk to Eli...I'm afraid she's slipping away from us."

Barkley's heart ached at the pain in his mother's voice, his own sense of helplessness mirrored in her eyes. "I know, Mom. I'm worried too," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Together, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they grappled with the enormity of the situation. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience; if only he had been able to protect you, to prevent this tragedy from befalling you. But deep down, he knew that no amount of regret could change what had happened.

As days turned into weeks, Barkley watched you from a distance, his heart heavy with worry and guilt. You had retreated into yourself, isolating yourself in your apartment and shutting out the world. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness as he watched you paint, your once vibrant and colorful creations now replaced by somber and melancholic images.

He tried to talk to you, to break through the wall of silence that surrounded you, but you ignored his every attempt. It pained him to see you like this, lost in your own despair, but he didn't know what else to do.

One evening, as Barkley once again attempted to reach out to you, you brushed him off without a word, your silence speaking volumes. Defeated, Barkley turned and walked away, his heart heavy with disappointment.

But Barkley had a plan, a desperate bid to escape the suffocating weight of his guilt and the toxic environment that surrounded him. With your mother's help, he concocted a scheme to steal money from your father, Eli, and leave town for good.

Together, they managed to steal two million dollars from Eli’s accounts—enough to start a new life, far from the pain and suffering that consumed his family. They assured you that you would be fine, asking if you wanted to go with them, but your silence was answer enough.

And so, one fateful night, Barkley and your mother disappeared into the night, leaving you behind in your empty apartment, alone with your thoughts and your paintings.

Meanwhile, in his luxurious home, Eli wasted away, drowning his sorrows in alcohol as he wallowed in self-pity and regret. He had lost everything – his money, his wife, and now his son. But he still had you, his daughter, his beautiful daughter whom he had failed to protect.

Eli's cell phone rang on the coffee table in the dimly lit living room, breaking the silence that had enveloped the house for weeks. He glanced at the caller ID but didn't recognize the number, yet he answered it eagerly, hoping for some sign of life amidst the desolation.

"Hello?" Eli's voice trembled with anticipation as he held the phone to his ear.

"Dad?" Your voice, soft and distant, echoed through the line, sending a surge of relief and concern coursing through Eli's veins. He hadn't heard your voice in weeks, and the sound of it now filled him with a mixture of joy and apprehension.

"Is that you, sweetheart?" Eli's heart raced as he waited for your response, his mind racing with a thousand questions.

But before he could say anything else, you interrupted him, your voice carrying a weight that chilled him to the bone. "You were right, Dad," you said, your words hanging heavy in the air. "The painter has to die for his works to become famous."

Eli froze, the blood draining from his face as he struggled to comprehend the meaning behind your words. His mind raced back to your paintings, the somber and melancholic images that had replaced the vibrant and colorful creations you had once produced. Was this what you had meant?

"What do you mean, sweetheart? Where are you?" he questioned, his voice laced with concern and dread.

You continued speaking, your voice hollow and distant. "Because people like it, right? People like tragic things, sad things," you said, your words echoing with a disturbing clarity.

Eli's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. "No, no, my dear, please don't do anything rash," he pleaded, his voice tinged with panic. "Tell me where you are. I'll come to you right away."

But you remained resolute, your mind seemingly made up. "I'm on a bridge," you replied calmly. "I'm going to jump, father. I'm going to become a great artist like Van Gogh."

Eli's hands shook as he held the phone tightly to his ear, the weight of your words crushing him with a suffocating sense of helplessness. "No, please, don't do this," he begged, his voice choked with tears. "I'll do anything, just please come back to me."

Eli's heart sank as he listened to your unsettling silence, his sense of guilt and regret weighing him down. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know I haven't been there for you like I should have," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "But please, don't do this. I'm coming to you right now. Just stay still, okay? Don't move."

But you interrupted him, your voice cutting through the air with a bitter edge. "You never came to my aid when I needed you, Dad. You never did," you said, your words laced with disappointment and resentment.

Eli's chest tightened at your accusation, the weight of his failures as a father bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I know, and I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I've been a shitty father, and I regret it every day."

But you remained steadfast, your resolve unyielding as you spoke once more. "The key to my apartment is under the rug," you said calmly, your voice cutting through the chaos of the moment. "My paintings...put them up for auction. Maybe then you can recover the money Barkley and Mom stole."

Eli tried to protest, to argue that the money didn't matter in comparison to the value of your life, but you silenced him with a swift motion, sliding your cell phone and tossing it off the bridge, watching it disappear into the depths below.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, your mind set on your decision. "Become a great artist," you whispered to yourself before taking the leap, the rush of wind drowning out the sounds of the world around you.

As you plummeted towards the water below, a crowd of onlookers gathered on the bridge, their smartphones held high as they captured the moment for posterity. But you paid them no mind, your focus solely on the journey ahead, whatever it may bring.

A month had passed since the tragic day you took your leap from the bridge, and Eli found himself enveloped in a fog of despair. Despite his best efforts, there was still no sign of your body, no closure to the nightmare that had consumed their lives. The newspapers relentlessly replayed the cell phone footage of your final moments, each viewing tearing at Eli's heart anew.

With a heavy heart, Eli finally gathered the courage to fulfill your final wish. He put your paintings up for auction, just as you had requested, each stroke of the brush a painful reminder of the vibrant soul you once were.

Sitting at the back of the auction hall, Eli struggled to maintain his composure as each painting was presented to the eager bidders. Memories flooded his mind with each piece, from the happiest to the darkest, each one a testament to the complexity of your spirit.

He remembered the little girl he once carried in his arms, her bright eyes gazing up at him with an innocence that melted his heart. Back then, he had felt a twinge of disappointment at having a girl instead of the son he had hoped for, but that feeling quickly dissipated as he held you close, your warmth and love filling the void in his heart.

He recalled the annoyance he felt when you were a child, following him everywhere and refusing to leave him alone for a second. He had often found himself exasperated by your constant presence, yearning for moments of solitude that seemed perpetually out of reach.

Then there were the times you had forced him to have tea with you and your dolls, a memory that now brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. He remembered the humiliation he had felt, sitting awkwardly amongst your toys, pretending to sip from a tiny porcelain cup as you chattered away happily.

But perhaps the most vivid memory of all was the day you had drawn on the important papers he carried with him everywhere. He had scolded you harshly for it, unable to understand why you would deface something so precious to him. But you had looked up at him with tears in your eyes and explained that you just wanted him to carry a little piece of you with him wherever he went. In that moment, Eli had felt a surge of tenderness towards you, his anger melting away as he realized the depth of your love for him.

As another painting of you went up for auction, Eli forced himself to become stoic, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He watched with a mixture of pride and sadness as the bids climbed higher and higher, each one a testament to the impact you had made on the world with your art.

Finally, a man stood out amongst the crowd, offering two million dollars for one of your paintings. The auctioneer turned to the man and asked for his name, and Eli's heart skipped a beat when he heard the answer.

"Lionel Shabandar," the man introduced himself, his voice carrying a note of authority as he met Eli's gaze with a steely determination.

But Eli looked away, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions as he remembered who Lionel Shabandar was. One of the richest men in London, Shabandar's presence in California seemed out of place. Why would he be here, at this auction, to buy a painting of his daughter's?

The auction continued, and Eli watched in surprise as Shabandar purchased nearly all of the paintings, one after another, with unwavering determination. Eli couldn't comprehend why Shabandar, a man of such wealth and influence, would be interested in his daughter's art. But the sight of him acquiring every piece only deepened the mystery.

As the auction drew to a close and Shabandar rose to leave, Eli felt a sudden urge to confront him. He hurriedly followed Shabandar, calling out for him to wait. Surprisingly, Shabandar halted in his tracks and turned to face Eli, greeting him with a nod as if they were old acquaintances.

"Doctor Eli Michaelson, isn't it?" Shabandar's voice was smooth and cultured, with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Eli nodded, a sense of unease creeping over him. "Yes, that's me. But forgive me if I'm mistaken, but do we know each other?"

Shabandar smiled knowingly. "No, not personally. But I've heard about you, Doctor Michaelson. Congratulations on your Nobel Prize," he said, his tone respectful.

Eli brushed off the compliment, his mind focused on the matter at hand. "Thank you, but that's not why I'm here. I need to know why you bought all those paintings."

Shabandar raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Isn't it obvious? Your daughter was a remarkable artist."

Eli's eyes narrowed skeptically. "Remarkable, yes, but why would you, of all people, be interested in her work?"

Shabandar chuckled softly, gesturing towards the paintings on display. "Because I recognize talent when I see it, Doctor Michaelson. Your daughter's art spoke to me in a way that few others have. Each brushstroke, each detail, conveyed a depth of emotion that is truly rare."

Eli remained unconvinced, his suspicions lingering like a shadow. "And what do you plan to do with her paintings now that you've bought them all?"

Shabandar shrugged nonchalantly. "Display them, perhaps. Or perhaps donate them to a museum. It's too soon to say."

Eli studied Shabandar carefully, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive. But Shabandar's demeanor remained calm and composed, his intentions shrouded in mystery.

Before Eli could press further, Shabandar glanced at his watch and made to leave. "I must be going, but congratulations, Doctor Michaelson, your daughter has become a great artist," he said, offering a polite nod before disappearing into the crowd.

Eli was left alone, standing still amidst the bustling auction hall, his thoughts consumed by a flood of memories. As he turned to look at the paintings that had once adorned the walls of your apartment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside him.

You didn't become a great artist, no, you already were for a long time. Since you were a child and scribbled on the walls, on Eli's important papers, until Eli got fed up and gave you a painting kit. He remembered the day vividly, the frustration in his voice as he handed you the brushes and the canvas, hoping to pacify you with a creative outlet.

He could almost see you there, looking at the blank canvas and the paints in your tiny hands, asking your father what you should paint. And he, in his typical dismissive manner, had simply replied, "Paint something that will make me proud."

And you had smiled at him, a radiant beam of innocence that melted his heart, before setting to work with a determination that belied your tender age. You painted and painted, your tiny fingers creating masterpieces that Eli had never thought possible.

But despite your talent, Eli had never been proud of your paintings, always dismissing them as mere child's play. He had been blind to the beauty and depth of your art, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to see the world through your eyes.

As he stood there now, surrounded by the remnants of your creativity, Eli felt a pang of regret gnawing at his conscience. He wished he could go back, to cherish those moments with you, to celebrate your talent and nurture it with the love and support you deserved.

But it was too late for regrets now. All he could do was honor your memory, to ensure that the world knew of the remarkable artist you had been. And as he looked around the auction hall, at the eager bidders clamoring for a piece of your legacy, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Lionel Shabandar, the enigmatic stranger who had recognized your talent when he had failed to do so.

With a heavy heart, Eli made his way home, the weight of his emotions threatening to crush him with each step. But amidst the grief and the guilt, there was a glimmer of hope, a flicker of pride in knowing that you had left behind a legacy that would endure long after you were gone.

And as he gazed at the painting kit he had given you all those years ago, now gathering dust on a forgotten shelf, Eli made a silent vow to cherish the memory of his daughter, the talented artist whose brilliance had shone brighter than he could have ever imagined.

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