When her turn came in the darkened warehouse downtown, the other artists showed oil paintings of fruit and polished sculptures of wire. Mandy stood in the center of the room, her red hair glowing like an ember in the dark. She plugged in her device, and suddenly, the ceiling of the warehouse was gone.
Mandy’s heart did a strange, caffeinated flutter. Preston was the dream—the kind of place where red hair and charcoal-stained fingers were a badge of honor rather than a reason to be stared at. But the "Midnight Canvas" was tonight, and her "best" was currently a collection of napkins and margins. redhead teen mandy
That night, Mandy didn't go to the show with a framed canvas. She went with her phone and a high-resolution projector she’d borrowed from the AV club. When her turn came in the darkened warehouse
THE MIDNIGHT CANVAS: UNDERGROUND ART SHOW. BRING YOUR BEST. WINNER GETS A SCHOLARSHIP TO THE PRESTON ACADEMY. Mandy’s heart did a strange, caffeinated flutter