Evelyn spent the next two days oscillating between excitement and sheer terror.
Every time she thought about stepping into the Westfield Gallery, her stomach twisted itself into knots.
Mia and Adrian had both practically forced her to stop overthinking and just prepare. So she did.
She spent hours carefully selecting which of her pieces to bring, making sure they represented her growth and skill.
Now, standing in front of the gallery's large glass doors, she felt small.
The place was grand—modern, sleek, and undoubtedly professional.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The air inside the gallery smelled faintly of paint and polished wood.
The walls were lined with stunning artwork—some abstract, some hyper-realistic, but all incredible in their own right. She clutched the portfolio in her hands a little tighter.
"Evelyn Carter?"
She turned at the sound of her name and was met with the sight of Thomas Laughton himself.
He looked just as polished as he had at the showcase, dressed in a navy blue suit with an easy, confident smile.
"Yes," she managed, forcing herself to sound normal.
"Glad you could make it." He gestured toward a hallway leading further into the gallery.
"Let's head to my office. We can go through your work there."
Evelyn followed him through the space, her heartbeat loud in her ears. This was it. A real artist looking at her work.
Judging it.
Deciding whether she was worth investing in.
No pressure.
Thomas flipped through her portfolio with a critical but interested expression. Every now and then, he nodded or hummed in approval, but he remained mostly quiet.
Evelyn sat on edge, waiting for any reaction, any indication of what he was thinking.
Finally, he closed the portfolio and leaned back.
"You have a very distinct style. There's an emotional depth in your work that's hard to teach."
She swallowed.
"That's… good, right?"
He chuckled.
"It's very good. You still have room to refine your technique, but your perspective is strong. That's rare."
A strange sense of relief flooded through her. She hadn't failed. She hadn't embarrassed herself.
Thomas steepled his fingers.
"I want to offer you something. We have an artist mentorship program here. It's selective, but I think you'd be a good fit."
Evelyn blinked.
"A mentorship?"
"You'd work under a professional artist, learn from them, and potentially have your work showcased here in the future. It's an incredible opportunity—if you're interested."
If she was interested?
This was beyond what she had expected. Beyond anything she had ever dreamed of.
"I—yes,"
she said, before she could overthink it.
"I'd love that."
Thomas smiled. "Great. We'll set up a schedule soon."
Evelyn left the gallery that day feeling different. Lighter. Hopeful. She wasn't just an art student anymore.
She was an artist in the making.