Setting Fire to Her Lies

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy.

Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art.

Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught.

She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!"

I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance.

In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first.

Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly.

Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star.

And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist.

Insults and curses gradually drowned me.

"You shouldn't be an artist!"

"Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!"

Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand.

As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.

"Cass! Why are you spacing out again?"

The studio door burst open. My best friend, Gwen Thomson, rushed in while holding up her phone with an anxious expression.

I snapped my eyes open. In front of me was the familiar easel with my unfinished graduation painting sitting on it. I got a second shot at life.

I had gone back in time to the day Willow accused me of plagiarism for the first time.

"Look at the forum! Willow is stirring up trouble again!" Gwen urged.

My eyes fell on Gwen's phone screen.

At the top of the forum, a pinned post showed a shocking title, "To all fellow art lovers: a junior who's close to me stole my inspiration; what should I do?"

In the post, Willow didn't mention any names. All she did was write a story about a hardworking art student whose work was shamelessly plagiarized by her junior, who was known to be a genius.

She didn't have to spell out who she was referring to. Everyone knew that it was me because I was the legendary art prodigy of our year. From the moment I entered the art academy, I was labeled as "the genius."

Willow even attached a photo of two paintings side by side in her post. One was her so-called competition entry. The other was the archived version of my graduation project that I had just submitted to the school database yesterday.

The composition, the colors, the brushwork, and even the dot-stippling technique that I had created and mentioned for the first time in my thesis were all exactly the same.

It wasn't just mere similarity. Both pieces were practically identical. Below her post, indignant comments came pouring in.

"I always thought there was something off about Cassidy. She always acts like she's high and mighty. Turns out she's just a plagiarizer!"

"So much for the art prodigy. She probably had some shady deal with the professors."

"Willow is too kind. If it were me, I'd say who it is and get her expelled already!"

"My heart goes out to Willow. People like that are a disgrace to the art circle. They should be kicked out for good!"

The familiar words stabbed into my heart like sharp blades coated with the most lethal poison.

In my past life, everything had fallen apart because of this post. I was condemned by everyone and investigated by the academy.

My mentor, Jess Corven, used to look at me with warm eyes full of admiration for my talent. Gradually, her gaze cooled down and became one filled with utter disappointment.

Meanwhile, Willow used me as a stepping stone to soar high in life.

With my painting, she won the National Young Artist Gold Award and subsequently signed with a top-tier gallery. She got to enjoy glory and fame.

I, on the other hand, was mocked and ridiculed for plagiarizing. In the end, I jumped down from the top floor of this very studio. As I stared at Willow's innocent-looking face on the screen, I slowly clenched my fists.

Gwen became even more agitated when she noticed the shift in my expression. "Cass, say something! Let's go to Ms. Corven right now to show her your drafts and all the evidence! We can't let Willow get away with this!"

Evidence? In my past life, I had shown all the evidence I had. I bared everything for all to see. From the earliest notes of inspiration to every sketch and detailed technique analysis, I held nothing back. But it didn't help.

Willow could always produce "evidence" that predated mine. She could even articulate my creative concepts before I ever got the chance to express them.

"Cass?" Gwen nudged me uneasily.

I lifted my head and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Gwen."

This time, I would find out how exactly Willow pulled it off!