ILL HEARTS

6

Jungkook

I was flipping through her sketchbook, and I felt like I was watching her life captured and displayed for me to see. Her sketches weren't random, her sketchbook wasn't a mess. Every drawing was connected with the next. Every drawing was art. Every drawing was a piece of her, sewed with a solid thread of feelings.

It felt so personal that for a moment I doubted if I was the right person to see them. But I couldn't look away. It wasn't often I was face to face with something that art critiques would sold their livers and wives to get. Yes, I'd do it if I was an art critique presented with Eunbi's work, just to have it hang pointlessly on the walls of my mansion.

When I asked her for the coffee, I had nothing but the plan on my mind. It was there until I opened the sketchbook and realized she had a godly talent. It was all I could think about for as long as we were in the coffee shop. I needed some time to process it before the plan could progress.

"Wow, Eunbi... they are... they are amazing. You're really great at this," I said what I thought, sliding the black-covered notebook across the table. "I'm surprised they weren't displayed in school before."

"The teachers asked me for some of them, but I declined."

"Why?" I furrowed my eyebrows. There was something about her, something that made me want to dig deeper. She kept a secret treasure within, unknown to the world, maybe partially even to herself, that I wanted to uncover. I hated Eunbi, but I didn't know or understand her. I thought I did. I thought she was nothing but a fake attention seeker. Maybe I was more than wrong.

"I... I don't know. I didn't want so many people to... admire my work," she said, her eyes almost hypnotized by the smooth surface of her coffee.

"You don't like it? Attention?" I asked, getting lost in the conversation.

"Not really." She chuckled. "I feel... strange when people praise me. Or compliment me. You know, when people pay attention to me."

"Why?"

"Are we in an interrogation?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. She was right, I was asking too many personal questions for someone who bluntly hated her not too long ago. "One last answer and it's my time to question you," she said, took a sip of the coffee, and revealed the answer that got my head spinning. "I don't think I'm worth the time and attention of other people. End of the conversation. My turn."

I was confused. My entire viewpoint on Eunbi was crumbling and I didn't know what was real anymore. Nothing made sense when I put it together. She could be fake, but didn't have to. She could be saying the truth, but didn't have to. She would go back to being the fake princess she was the next day. It was just a bad day, maybe it affected her answers, too. Or maybe I was just overthinking it, and Eunbi I knew wasn't actually Eunbi. Maybe she was a fake princess, but not exactly for a reason I expected her to be.

"What's so special about boxing?" she asked, shifting the conversation to me. Like she didn't want the attention to be on her. I was fine with it, still processing her answers among many contradicting thoughts about Eunbi.

"Nothing. I just love doing it," I said, smiling at the mention of my sport. "I started boxing when I was four."

"What? Really?"

"Really. My dad thought I was funny when I'd wear massive boxing gloves when I was two. He kept buying bigger ones to have fun and one day I started punching the walls. Then watching boxing matches. Then it just happened to be the only thing I was passionate about," I said. I wasn't sure why I was suddenly so expressive. No one knew things like this about me, but sharing them, making us seem closer, would help me with the plan. And, besides the plan, it made me feel more humane, and more comfortable. Just a little bit.