Our Mysterious Housemate

9: For Sure

A/N:

Hewwo, a little bonus

*

The man stood in front of the huge painting, it was boring and plain if we compare it to the rest of the other paintings in the gallery. The calm atmosphere despite the noise from the people who visited the gallery.

People mumbling at the back, laughing and completing the series of the paintings.

It was nothing but a mix of background sound.

His eyes caught the coloured canvas, mixed up feeling poured straight from his chest.

The painting confused the man as if he knew this painting so well and the painting was calling him to come over. Like the back of his hand, every curve; every stroke.

Like a freak, with warm tears on the corner of his eyes, he felt complete.

Letting out a shaky breathe, walking one step after another step.

He always thought of himself as a weird human, feeling empty as if he lost half of his soul since he was born.

His parent often took him to a hospital, when he suddenly burst into tears with an unbearable pain spread inside his chest.

Felt like someone cracked his ribs, choked his lungs and crept under his flesh to his bones.

Skinning him alive.

One day he felt unbearable cold, the very next day he felt as if he was burning alive.

He was screaming and shouting like a mad man, he knew that his parents thought that their son was insane.

He hated coldness.

He wanted something, somewhere out of his reach, and he was so helpless.

He had no idea why, where or when.

He was a social butterfly, everyone loves him. They always called him handsome, even beautiful. He got flowers and chocolate on valentine day until he decided to give boxes full of gift to a nearby orphanage because it was too much for him to handle.

He could always turn the tense atmosphere into a happy and cheerful one, but nobody knows deep inside he wasn't happy. He yearned for something he never knows exist, he wanted something he never meets.

He smiled, he was cheerful. Yet, he always felt incomplete and he didn't know what's wrong. He went to therapy, he never got the answer.

He often cried alone at midnight, in his terrace, sobbing like a baby while his heart ached and he thought he was going to die at that moment.

He was so lucky to have a good friend like Bogum, his manager always there to support him like a kind little brother he never has.

That day, he went to a gallery, dedicated to an old painter named Jin. The name made his heart ached but he liked it. He had wait for this day, he was eager to go.

That painter had a tragic story, he was missing until this day with no trace. People used to say that earth swallowed him and he was gone forever, leaving his two adopted brothers with the heritage.

There was no photo of the painter, just his masterpieces remained.

"Bogum, you can leave first, I want to stay in here longer," he said, Bogum smiled at his best friend.

"It's fine, take your time," Bogum patted the man's shoulder, he also gave his handkerchief when he noticed the tears on the older man's cheek.

Jin's paintings were famous for their ability to touch people's heart, no wonder his best friend cried.