Uncle Funded My Education Journey

Living at her aunt's house felt like she was living a fairy-tale life for Aylin Scott. She had her own room with a full-length mirror wardrobe, a charming bedside lamp, and her cousin Salem chauffeured her to and from school. Her aunt always whipped up a variety of dinners. Everything seemed perfect, with no material want and a seemingly fulfilling life, yet Aylin couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease. The comfort and stability felt too good to be true, leaving her feeling more like a temporary guest than a family member.

Aylin often chastised herself for feeling insecure, but she couldn't help it. She couldn’t fully enjoy this comfortable lifestyle guilt-free, nor could she stop feeling thankful to her aunt and uncle. But this overwhelming gratitude only made her feel more alienated within the household.

She was overly sensitive. Every day after school, when she said, "I’m going home!" it felt awkward because while others proudly proclaimed, "My mom and dad are waiting for me," she was acutely aware that the three other members of the household could ask her to leave at any time. Aylin often pondered seemingly absurd questions: Do I truly have a home? Do I have a family? Am I loved by my family? Can one be truly happy without belonging?

She desperately wanted to rid herself of this unwarranted loneliness, to temporarily forget who she was, ignoring her longing for familial affection. But people can be selfish; the more they lack, the more they crave.

"Hey, what are you daydreaming about?" Milena Gibson tapped on Aylin's desk to snap her out of her thoughts.

Aylin looked up and smiled, "Oh...not much."

"Class is over!"

"Oh, really?" Aylin said, appearing absent-minded.

"Not going home yet? Hey, why don't you come to my place? My folks are out, just me and Aunt Lynn—it's going to be great!" Milena’s words painted a familiar scene for Aylin from their previous chats.

Aylin shook her head, "Nah, I think not today."

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun at my place!" Milena insisted, playfully tugging at Aylin's arm.

"Well...alright!" Aylin got up, lazily gathering her books.

Being used to solitude, Aylin found it hard to resist such persistent invitations. Truth be told, she liked Milena as a friend, despite their stark differences. Milena was joyful and self-assured, while Aylin was gloomy and insecure. Yet now, Milena had opened the door to friendship for her, and Aylin had no reason to turn down the invitation. Even if she couldn’t bask in Milena’s happiness, she hoped that Milena’s laughter could at least lift her spirits.

"Do your parents ever argue?" Aylin asked suddenly as they walked.

"All the time," Milena’s casual response surprised Aylin.

"Really? You don’t seem bothered by it..."

"Eh, what's there to be bothered about? They’re just being silly! Petty fights every day, bigger ones every few days, then they're back to being lovey-dovey!"

Aylin came to realize—what they called "arguing" was entirely different from her concept. She realized she lacked not just harmony and stability but even those playful, dissonant notes that were part of a happy family, something she knew nothing about.

The wind by the river was cool and soothing, and the view of the sunrise over the London Eye was breathtaking, like the ripples in Aylin’s heart. The cutting words Anya had hurled at her the night before faded to insignificance. Why should they matter? Girls liked to tease; why laugh when teasing others but not take it when it’s your turn? She reminded herself not to be petty.

Aylin stretched in the breeze, then turned to observe the old Bank of England building behind her. She loved these ancient European architectures far more than the modern skyscrapers across the river; their timeless charm was irresistible. Just like Professor Hughes' preference for classic literature—the more rooted something is, the more captivating it becomes. Aylin smiled to herself.

But in that brief moment, she saw a silhouette in the morning light—a dreamlike silhouette. With the backlighting, she couldn’t discern his features or age, only that his figure was tall and slender. He held a palette in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, facing her direction.

Was he smiling at her? Why? Aylin frowned, sure that there were no familiar faces around here—she didn’t know any artists. She quickly turned and walked in the opposite direction.

"Hey, you!"

Was he calling her? Aylin hesitated, unsure whether to turn around.

"I'm a student at King's College too," said the silhouette, adding another clue.

Aylin turned to look at him again; now under the shadow of a skyscraper, she could see him clearly—a tall, handsome young man smiling warmly at her. "Come over, see if it looks like you."

Aylin hesitated, pointing at herself, "Are you talking to me?"

The young man smiled again, "Yeah, is there anyone else here?"

Aylin glanced at the embankment. Besides the lone river, indeed, there was no one else. She walked towards him, hardly daring to believe her eyes. On the canvas, she was rendered so lifelike, the morning sun over the Thames coloring her in rosy hues, the wind naturally tousling her hair.

Aylin was momentarily speechless, her face flushed red. Was it surprise or embarrassment?

He quietly observed her; he was undeniably handsome, yet his attractiveness couldn't hide the slight melancholy in his gaze. "Do you like it? You can have it if you do!"

Aylin shook her head vigorously, "No, thank you!" How could she accept something from a stranger, especially such a personal gift?

He seemed to understand her hesitation, smiling brightly, "No worries, painting it brought me a lot of joy. Besides, if you hadn't shown up here so punctually every day, this painting wouldn't exist!"

So Aylin didn’t refuse further, and as she accepted the painting, she noticed his signature, "Eren Murray?"

Eren nodded while packing his art supplies, "Got class in the morning? You should head back if you do!"

Aylin, surprised, blinked at him. He spoke as though he knew her well.

Eren scratched his head sheepishly, "Haha, I know you're a freshman in the English Department. I'm in the Art School. I happened to see you coming out of the Humanities Building yesterday... Oh, I forgot to introduce myself—I’m Eren Murray, a freshman in the Art School."

Aylin smiled shyly.

They chatted effortlessly on the bus ride, despite knowing little about each other. It was odd, but the boy was engaging, speaking with charm and eloquence. As they approached the university, Aylin felt a bit of reluctance. Would she see him again tomorrow?

When her dorm mates saw the painting in Aylin's hands, they swarmed around her.

"Wow! It looks just like you!"

"Eren Murray?! Aylin, spill it, have you been meeting this guy every morning?"

"Well, isn’t it obvious? How else could he paint you so well? Hey, Aylin, did you model for him nude or something?"

At that, Aylin blushed furiously, "Oh, stop it, Mia! We just met!"

"Oh really, just met and you already got a heartfelt gift! The guy seems pretty keen on you," Donna teased from the side.

Just then, the dorm door slammed shut—it was Anya, making a hasty exit.

"What's her issue?" Aylin asked, bewildered.

"Who knows, she's a mystery!" Mia replied dismissively.

The girls had started noticing Anya's peculiar behavior. Her competitive nature wasn’t the problem—sometimes she was overly enthusiastic, other times she was cold and distant, making her unpredictable.

Anya walked to the dorm hallway, crouching in a secluded corner to cry. She liked Eren, from the first day she laid eyes on him, but she never got the chance to talk to him with her parents around. During orientation, she would sneak glances at him, learning that he was Eren Murray from the Art School.

Naturally shy, especially being a top student, Anya never dared to make the first move. She would silently watch, always near him, saying nothing, doing nothing, hoping he would notice her and make the first move.

Her dream shattered; Aylin had beat her to it! She felt a mix of shock and disappointment, experiencing both envy and bitterness.

That was Aylin Scott—prettier, more accomplished. Even if Anya was bold enough to greet Eren first, it couldn’t overshadow Aylin's brilliance. Even old Professor Hughes was charmed by her!

After crying her heart out, Anya returned to the dorm with red eyes, the other girls still bombarding Aylin with questions. In the calm of university life, any ripple was magnified. Seeing Anya's red eyes, they all fell silent.

"What happened?" Aylin asked with concern, unable to connect her new acquaintance with Anya's state.

Anya nonchalantly shook her head, "Nothing, really. I got some dust in my eye out in the hallway, rubbed it a bit too hard."

Everyone could tell Anya was lying, but no one was inclined to call her out. Only Aylin watched her closely, "Are you okay?"

"It's fine! I'm alright!" Anya forced a smile. "Oh, by the way, Aylin, I heard you got yourself a boyfriend—congrats!" Her smile was clearly forced.

Aylin shook her head quickly, "No, really, it was just a chance meeting during morning practice; we barely spoke. You know, artists—they just paint whoever they see, it's nothing personal!"

Oh, they hadn’t started anything; maybe there was still hope! Anya’s expression immediately softened, hiding her relief by steering the conversation, "Oh, and when I passed by the bulletin board yesterday, I saw a call for essays—Aylin, your writing is fantastic, you should give it a try!"

"Really? If I have time, I’ll give it a shot." Aylin gathered her books for class, happy Anya had been so thoughtful. She naturally looped her arm with Anya's, "Let's go to Professor Chen's class. If we're late, it'll be brutal! You guys, hurry up too!"

On the way to class, they were quiet, each holding their own secrets.

The essay contest quickly shifted Aylin's focus away from thoughts of Eren. After all, she and the boy had nothing substantial between them, merely friendly banter. But it reminded her of Francis, who had once sparked special feelings over a similar writing piece. However, thinking of Francis now didn’t hurt like it used to.

When the past has turned to dust, what remains are the memories. And what of a new romance, a new hope? Would there be stories with the handsome artist boy? Without emotional surges, would life on campus become dull?

Aylin was startled by her own thoughts. Was she longing for love? She shouldn’t; how could she forget her past heartbreaks so quickly? She reminded herself.

For now, she’d set thoughts of romance aside and cherish the friendships around her instead. Would she find friendship here as she had with Milena? She yearned for a friend like Milena, someone so genuine, passionate, and open-hearted. Often, she compared her hometown friend Anya with Milena, wondering if Anya could become her next close confidante. Anya was passionate, loved to laugh, and often walked arm-in-arm with her on campus. But the key similarity was that Anya, too, could hold back tears and even laughter. Though she couldn’t understand why Anya was so off today, she recognized that same familiar bitterness.

Anya, like Aylin, was a proud girl. Indeed, pride—they both had it. But Aylin's pride was inherent, while Anya's was pressure from the outside world. With both being prideful, maybe they could become best friends!

Anya was diligent but not particularly bright. A simple poem would take her no less than thirty recitations to remember. Anya was relentless but deeply insecure, calling Professor Hughes a creep, yet she’d scour multiple bookstores just to find material to impress him in class.

Even though Anya was inconsistent, not as lively, nor as genuine as Milena, Aylin still considered her a friend. Both from the same town and both lacking vivid colors in their lives.

Life continues as the departed become a memory.

Though these truths are universal, accepting them can be difficult when they hit close to home. Such was the case with Raiden Gardner these days. He said little and ate even less. Every time he saw his mother's photograph, tears welled up. It wasn't that he couldn’t understand life and death; rather, he reflected on how hard his mother, Kayleigh Gardner, had lived. Her life was full of hardships, and even in passing, she faced struggles. Was this life’s burden or a debt from a previous existence?

Hanna was straightforward; one day she remarked to Salem, "Your mom used to nag because of menopause, now she's all mystical." Salem was upset, saying no daughter-in-law should mock her mother-in-law. Yet, he acknowledged his mother's grief had been excessive.

Salem discussed with Aylin and Dustin, considering a trip to lift his mother’s spirits.

Naturally, Aylin and Dustin agreed wholeheartedly.

When Kayleigh heard that her son and daughter-in-law were trying to send her away to London, she stomped her foot in anger, berating Salem, "What are you thinking, Salem? Your grandmother just passed, and you’re trying to ship me off to England. Do you find me annoying already? I’m not old and gray yet!"