Black on Pastel <Vkook>

3. The morning of

Jungkook woke up with the sun shining through the window on to the black wall. He stretched and rubbed his eyes, letting out a loud groan in the process. He really didn't want to get up. He didn't want to go outside. He hated it. He hated people. Being an artist came with the constant worry of people not liking you or your work. People were judgmental and discriminating and the thought of everyone hating his artwork hung over his head like a big, dark black cloud. Which made sense. Black was his favorite color.
Early last year, Jungkook had been diagnosed with OCD and anxiety. He took medicine for it, but it didn't completely help the symptoms. His desk and other art supplies were organized perfectly and he still felt anxious and worried whenever he went out in public. Or especially when his art was being showcased, like today. That's why he sold and gave away the majority of his art through tumblr, where he never had to show his face and where he didn't have to be his anxious, OCD self. No one hated him there.

But today it was different. He was presenting 3 pieces at an art show at a museum, and after today, they would continue to be on display in an actual room in the gallery. It was a high class place that had an amazing modern art section. Andy Warhol and Jackson Pollock hung on the walls. It was an honor for his work to be in the same building as theirs. But he still didn't want to watch stingy rich people turn up their noses at his art.

Jungkook fished out his nicest suit from the back of his his closet and put it on piece by piece, finishing with a lilac handkerchief sticking out from the pocket folded in a way he learned from an origami book.
He brushed his hair with his fingers in front of his bathroom mirror, styling it in a way where he won't be embarrassed on how he looks while the wealthy art collectors sneer at his paintings.

Before leaving, he stuffed the scrap book full of pictures and explanations of his pieces, into his over-the-shoulder bag. He then stood in front of the mirror once again, putting a lint roller to his clothes so they were absolutely spotless. Imperfect would just not do.
He proceeded out the front door and closed it behind him and started for the museum that was only 2 short blocks away.

The walk was nice. This time of year in New York wasn't too warm or too cold. He was comfortable in long sleeves, that was about all he wore anyways unless he was painting or just laying around at home.
Chelsea was a part of New York that wasn't totally disgusting and the places in the area were quite nice, although insanely expensive. The market had cafes of every kind and the flea market had something new every month so you never got bored. Jungkook had only lived here 3 weeks and he was already in love with the city. Or well, the neighborhood.
He was grateful that he hadn't had to take the subway yet. He couldn't even imagine the kind of panic attack he would have there. Small spaces, dirt, rats, people. It sounded so unappealing. Just like the rest of New York that he also, had yet to experience. He preferred walking much more.

As he approached the doors of the museum he took a deep breath, preparing for what he would call judgement day. His first showcase in New York City before dozens, maybe hundreds of appreciators and collectors from around the city, or even the country.
He walked down the hall and entered a huge room where art hung on the walls. He scanned the nearly empty place until he spotted his 3 showcased pieces, right smack dab in the middle of the room. He sighed.

-

Taehyung woke up on his couch with an empty bowl on his lap. He'd fallen asleep last night while watching hours upon hours of some sort of project runway type show on tv. Now, there was a cooking show playing that didn't look that interesting.
Taehyung got up and set the bowl into the sink to clean later. He slugged over to his record player and put on a Panic! At The Disco record.
His vinyls were stacked messily on the table where the player rested. It used to be a desk but it never had a purpose. Taehyung was out of school and didn't have an official job, so it just say there. Then he bought the record player and his first vinyl and the collection started to grow. Now there were 30 or more laying on the wood table.

Taehyung dressed himself to go find some breakfast and head to the art show after. He put on a tight pair of black jeans and a nice jacket over a white V neck t-shirt.
He stuffed a small notebook in his back pocket with a pen. In this book, he wrote all about art he sees. How makes him feel and how he interprets it, the most recent entry being the painting sent by Jungkook. He took it to all of the art shows he went to. Im fact, he had actually gone through another book before the one he had now. He bought this one at a showcase where he had used the old up.
The cover was a light pink color and marbled. The pages were pure white, with blue lines instead of black, because Taehyung preferred color.
This one was pretty full as well. If the art today was interesting, he might have to buy another.

He made his way down to the market, a cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth. He secretly wished that he didn't do things like this. He knew how harmful it was, but he couldn't stop it. Once he moved to the city, his environment pushed him to a point of no return. And it wasn't just the cigarettes.
   His friend, Yoongi was a major part of his problem. He sold Taehyung all of the toxins that eventually flooded through his body in all different ways. Taehyung hated himself for it. But in the moment, he couldn't care less. He enjoyed the feeling too much to let it go.

Once Taehyung entered the market, he ordered a crepe with chocolate, banana and strawberries from the little crepe cafe across the wide hallway from the small grocery store that only sold organic food and meat from farms that only vegans really care about.
He ate the crepe with a strawberry lemonade at a small table, outdoors, by himself, reading the past entries in the notebook and inhaling on the cigarette. The first one was from about a year ago. It was of a painting from a gallery near Times Square. He couldn't remember what it looked like but he remembered the feeling once he read the page.

He wrote:
The colors are mostly dark and light blue but there's so much yellow mixed in. It gives a sort of resolving feeling. Like in music when a minor phrase is followed by major chord and everything just fits together. It's strange but it all works out. The texture is smooth to make the finish look even greater. The way the oils are mixed with the yellow against the blue, making small portions of different shades of green. The contrast is perfect. Perfect for a first entry.

The feeling came back to Taehyung. The way he felt when he looked at the artwork. He couldn't picture the piece but he still knew, by the description, what it was and how it was produced.

Soon it was 11:00. The doors opened to the public at the showcase in 10 minuets. It would take him 20 to walk over there so he decided that he should leave now.
He put the napkin that the now, eaten crepe sat in, in the trash can and kept the notebook in his hand, leaving his phone in his pocket. He took a long drag on his cigarette and left the market, making his way to the gallery.

+

Fun fact: all of the places I put in this chapter are real places that I've been too heehee.

Anyways, I haven't changed a whole lot yet, but I will at some point I promise.