In the night, a boy wearing a smelly, stained sweatshirt with a hoodie was running to an alleyway. As he got inside the alleyway, he looked around to see if there was anything or anyone around, possibly looking at him while hiding in the darkness. He looked left and right constantly. He didn’t see anyone or anything come out of nowhere or was already there. He went over to the dumpster on the other side. He opened it to see if there was anyone or anything in there. He fell on his back, looked shocked, and gasped when he saw a raccoon come out of the dumpster. The raccoon ran out of the alleyway, chirping and drooling as well. The raccoon got onto the sidewalk, onto the road, and then got back to the other sidewalk. It was close to a grassy area full of old trees and shrubs. The raccoon went onto the grassy area and got into a big hole at the bottom of the old tree. “Yeah, I’m surprised that I’ve never seen a raccoon come out of a dumpster like that before. I feel like it should happen more often for some reason,” the boy said as he got up from the concrete ground. He stretches as he raises his arms in the air and bends down, trying to touch his toes. He hears a few popping noises and a bit of a cracking noise as he stretches. He gets back up, perfectly standing upright. The boy was wearing a jacket. He decided to put his hoodie over his head, making sure that no one would know him because they couldn't see their face. He unzipped one of his pockets from his jacket and got out a spray paint can. He got up against the wall from the dumpster. He got into his other pocket on his jacket, getting out his phone. He shook the spray paint can in one hand, and he turned on his phone’s flashlight in the other hand so he could see his filthy art and could continue working on it. “Oh, yeah. This is going to be so great! I can just imagine people seeing this and thinking that it’s the Mona Lisa of graffiti art. I think this is my all-time masterpiece! The best thing I’ve ever done!” said the boy quietly and softly as he had his phone light on and was using it to see the wall as he was spraying it with the spray paint can. The boy walked around towards the right side of that side in the alleyway way far from the dumpster. “Oh, yeah. I’ll go up here so I can emphasize more of that. Okay, maybe I’ll go under there so I can fill in some color. Nice, nice. Everything’s going good. Maybe I’ll go to the left right over here to fill in more color and make the lines around this darker, more defined. Yep. Yep. Lookin’ quite nice. Very appealing,” said the boy as he was going up and down and moving all around spraying all over the wall with the spray paint can in his one hand and holding his phone up against the wall he was spraying with the other. A woman was walking down the street wearing glasses, a buttoned-up coat with various colors splattered on it, a pair of tight, blue jeans, and high heels. One being red, and the other being green. Her hair was weirdly curled up and connected to a small comb with a small flower on it. She was reading an art magazine. As she was walking down the street, reading the magazine and looking at the images of paintings and sculptures, she slightly looked up from the magazine to see a light coming from a nearby alleyway. She was bewildered seeing this and decided to put her magazine away in one of her coat’s pockets. “Hello? Is anyone in there? In this alleyway? I see a bit of light moving around, and I just wanted to know who is the one making this light, moving it around,” said the woman as she was walking more quickly to the bright alleyway. “Do I hear spraying over there? Excuse me, but what are you doing?” asked the woman but this time louder and she started running to the alleyway. “Oh, man. I need to get out of here right now. When it comes to my piece, I will finish it tomorrow night. It should be easy since I just have to finish up one thing so not finishing it tonight wouldn’t be the end of the world,” the boy said as he stopped spraying on the wall, turned the light off from his phone, put his phone in one of his pockets, and got out one hand to grab the strings on his sweatshirt, making his hoodie tighter. The hoodie covered up the boy’s face. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing with that can in your hands, young man?!” shouted and questioned the woman angrily. The boy dropped the can and ran off as fast as he could. “Hey! Get back! Get back here! Right now! I……Oh, man. Oh, I’m not a runner,” the woman said as she tried to run up to the boy, but, since she was more into the fine arts and not athletics, she stopped while being in the middle of the alleyway and got her knees, heaving. As she was on her knees, she saw the spray paint can on the ground. She got back up to standing and still looked at the can. She groaned and looked upset. She picked up the can and observed it. “Ugh. I can’t believe some people. Wanting to stay up so late, roaming around the streets, finding an alleyway, just so they can disrespectfully deface it. Unbelievable, some people and their vandalism,” said the woman as she shook her head. She is about to leave when something catches her eye. She notices a phone left over close to the wall that the boy was defacing. She shakes her head once again. She also picks up the phone from the ground. “Oh, why are some people so irresponsible and willing to do things like this?” asked the woman to herself as she touched the phone, trying to turn it on. She turns it on and sees that the phone has its light on. She looks at the phone and sees that the phone has light coming out of it. “Yes, maybe, I could see what they were doing to this wall with this phone of theirs. Maybe I could show the pictures I will take to the cops. They’ll know exactly what to do with that little delinquent,” the woman said as she smiled smugly, thinking of him going to jail for acting like a delinquent. She moves the phone to the wall he spray-painted on, expecting it to be nothing but just filthy trash until she does this. She stands there being confused. “What is this? What was that kid doing?” asked the woman as she was looking at the wall, holding the phone up to the wall as its light was on. The woman was surprised to see a massive woman wearing a blue, flower-coated skirt and sandals, and next to her a man wearing tight, blue jeans and black shoes. “What? What even is this? Is this- Is this supposed to be-Is this that person’s art?” asked the woman as she backed away from the wall. The light from the phone spread everywhere all over the wall, showing a big, sprayed-on image of a woman having stud earrings, blonde hair, a cross around their neck, a pair of sandals on, wearing a red, buttoned-up blouse, and a blue, flower-coated skirt. And next to her, a man with black, messy hair, a black mustache, wearing sunglasses, a lit cigarette in his mouth, wearing biker gloves, tight, blue jeans, black shoes, and an old AC/DC shirt. There are many doves, robins, sparrows, eagles, lilies, roses, passionflowers, and tulips around the woman on the left. There are many skulls, bones, and lightning bolts on the other side with the guy.“Who are these people? Are they real? Were they just made up? Are these real people? Are they people that the person knew? Were these random people that the person liked? Were these people who liked that person? Wait, what does this say underneath these two,” said the woman as she got closer to the wall, trying to make out what it says. “Hope to see you both again someday, my guys. My family.’ Oh, this is quite lovely. Such artistic talent. Such an artistic soul,” said the woman as she turned off the phone and touched the wall carefully, not trying to mess anything up. “Who made this? I just have to know,” said the woman as she got out that boy’s phone again. She goes on the phone and sees the home screen being a picture of Ozzy Osborne eating out of a bat and looking through apps. She stopped at the Painter’s Weekly app, clicked on it, and looked through all of his pieces on the app. From a moving rose, looking like a human, a skeleton lying on a coffin, smoking a cigar, Lemmy Kilmister rising out of the ground, looking like a buff, horned demon with jagged wings and a long tail while flipping things off, to a poor person being protected by an eagle from Heaven so he won’t be beaten by a crazed fat man in a very sophisticated suit. She noticed the boy’s account on the upper right side, clicked on it, and there was information on him, from his date of birth, to where he lived, to whom it may concern he was friends with, to his gender, and to his name, Randall FlyBoy Henrikson. “Don’t worry, Randall. I’ll make sure your art doesn’t get taken down,” said the woman as she put his phone away and got out hers. She takes a picture of the boy’s art. “I promise, Randal. I promise to make you something great with the gift you have,” said the woman as she put her phone away and walked away from the alleyway.