"Colors, like features, follow the change of the emotions."
- Pablo Picasso
"Why don't you ever paint in color?
"Why does this painting look so sad?"
"Without color, this looks so boring."
Jinyoung sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. He abhorred exhibition days. All anyone ever did was say negative things about his paintings. So what if he didn't paint in color?
"Who painted this? It's beautiful."
Jinyoung froze when he heard the tall boy standing in front of his painting speak.
He saw the boy fill out one of the pink review sheets, and Jinyoung had a strong urge to say something to the complete stranger. Jinyoung looked for the stranger, but he'd already lost him in the sea of people. Jinyoung sighed and took a seat on one of the benches nearby.
He pulled his sketchbook from his worn brown satchel and flipped it to the next clean page. He unconsciously began sketching the side profile of the tall boy from before. For some reason, he couldn't get the drawing right, no matter how many times he tried.
He sighed in frustration and closed his sketchbook. He shoved it back into his bag before walking over to the empty space in front of his painting.
He ran his hand over the spot where he'd messed up and smiled. This was one of his favorite works, mistakes and all. He opened the small box which held the reviews in it, and he wasn't surprised to see only one pink slip of paper.
Compared to all of the beautiful colored paintings, no one found his monochrome art interesting.
He flipped over the pink slip in his hand and couldn't help but smile at the words written in messy handwriting.
Name: Kim Yugyeom
I don't know much about art, but this one really stood out to me. I felt like there was a lot of emotion behind it. It's really beautiful!
Jinyoung rarely ever got reviews on his paintings, and it was even more rare that the review was positive. No one could blame him for feeling elated that someone finally enjoyed his artwork.
He put the small piece of paper into his sketchbook before leaving the auditorium which was serving as a makeshift art gallery.
He took the train home and felt extremely relieved when he reached his rundown apartment. He turned on the lights and slipped off his shoes before walking into his living room. Jinyoung haphazardly tossed his bag onto the chair setting in the living room.
He settled onto the lumpy couch and tried to watch some random variety show, but his mind still hadn't left the guy from earlier.
He once again pulled his sketchbook and tried to draw the stranger that he now knew was named Kim Yugyeom, but he still couldn't get it right. He'd been dissatisfied with his work before, but he'd never experienced this inability to draw what he wanted. He could perfectly picture what, well, who, he wanted to draw, but it felt impossible. Something felt off.
Jinyoung sighed in defeat and tossed the sketchbook onto the ground.
He was barely paying attention to the TV and his eyes began to feel heavy, so he soon found himself drifting asleep to the monotonous voice of the talk show host.
The next time he saw Kim Yugyeom was in passing. He was leaving one of his classes to go to the cafeteria, and he saw him. He had his head thrown back in laughter, and Jinyoung thought that his laugh sounded like the pure embodiment of euphoria.
Jinyoung walked to his next class with the image of Yugyeom laughing burned into his brain.
"I hope you have all been working on your final just projects. They will be due at the end of the semester. Just to remind you, this project is worth fifty-percent of your grade, so do your best," Professor Kim said, snapping Jinyoung out of his thoughts of the younger boy.
Jinyoung sighed at the thought of his final project. Professor Kim didn't think too highly of him. He couldn't tell if it was because of his overall shitty personality or because of his 'boring' art, but it was more than evident that Professor Kim didn't like him at all.
Once he left Professor Kim's class, he felt drained. It's not that Jinyoung is antisocial, he just found it hard to focus when everyone was chattering.
After his final class of the day, he went to the restaurant that his friend's family owns. He's been friends with Wang Jackson ever since Jackson's family moved from Hong Kong into the house next to his. It wasn't like Jinyoung had much of a choice in becoming Jackson's friend in the first place. It was just really hard to ignore a person like him.
As soon as he walked into the restaurant, he was greeted by the delicious smell of the food and gentle smile of Jackson's mother. He waved at her and sat down at his usual seat at the counter.
When Jackson brought out Jinyoung's usual order, he teased him for the ever-present gray and black stains coating his fingers. Jinyoung rolled his eyes in reply. At this point, he was used to Jackson's pointless teasing.
While he was eating his noodles, he heard the bell on the top of the door jingle, but he ignored it until the same melodious laughter he'd heard earlier that day reverberated throughout the small restaurant.
Jinyoung whipped his head around at the sound, and he had to refrain from smiling when he saw how Yugyeom's eyes crinkled when he laughed.
"Is the Park Jinyoung gazing fondly at another human being?" Jackson teased.
Jinyoung's cheeks flushed a scarlet color, and he quickly averted his gaze from Yugyeom and his friends before glaring at Jackson.
"I was not 'gazing fondly' at him," Jinyoung scoffed in reply.
"You were," Jackson replied.
"Was not."
"You definitely were. You looked like were in looooove," Jackson said in a sing-song voice.
"There must be something wrong with your eyesight."
"Stop arguing like children. You're either bullying Jinyoung or flirting with girls, Jackson. It's funny how I rarely see you work," Jackson's mom scolded.
Jackson scuttled off after his mother gave him a harsh look, and Jinyoung had to hold back his laughter. Jackson has always been unmanageable for pretty much everyone but his mother. One of his high school teachers even resigned from his job because Jackson was always playing practical jokes on him. Honestly, Jinyoung was seriously worried about whoever he ends up married to.
"Sorry about him," she said without a trace of her former annoyance.
"I'm used to it. That's just how he is," Jinyoung replied with a laugh.
"My poor idiot son, what would I do without him?"
"I heard that!" Jackson shouted from in the kitchen, which prompted laughter from both Jinyoung and his mom.
Jinyoung stayed and talked to Jackson and his mom for a while before he said goodbye and took the packed train back to his apartment.
He turned on the lights in the cramped apartment and sighed when he saw the mess from all his rejected paintings and sketches. He tossed his keys on the paper-covered coffee table before kicking off his worn-out tennis shoes.
He grabbed for one of the many sketchbooks laying on the cluttered coffee table and began to sketch the boy who seemed to be quickly becoming his muse.
He looked at the sketch in dissatisfaction. The drawing just didn't do justice to the real thing. Jinyoung closed the sketchbook and sighed once again. He put the leather-bound book back onto the disorganized mess of a table before resigning to the comfort of his bedroom.
He tossed the unfolded clothes that had been laying on his bed for God knows how long into a basket before climbing into the bed where he quickly fell asleep to the dull noise of the traffic from the streets below.
If asked, Jinyoung wouldn't know what possessed him to ask Kim Yugyeom to be his model. He didn't really communicate well with new people, and he really hasn't made any new friends since high school. He claimed that he momentarily lost his mind.
He couldn't have been more surprised that when Yugyeom shrugged and replied, "Sure."
Jinyoung was in a state of disbelief for most of the day which was shown via his facial expression, prompting the usually disinterested looks from passers-by to turn strange.
He had also felt another feeling rising in the pit of his stomach all day. He couldn't remember being more nervous than when he stepped into the unused classroom that was currently serving as his make-do art studio. Yugyeom was sitting in the middle of the room on the uncomfortable stool that creaked at the slightest movement.
Yugyeom stood up when Jinyoung entered the room, knocking over the rickety stool in the process. He fumbled to set the stool back up, and his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. Jinyoung forced himself to contain the fond smile that was threatening to form on his face.
"Um.. I'm sorry," Yugyeom said awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck.
"It's fine," Jinyoung said using a kind smile that felt unnatural on his usually apathetic face.
"I'm new to this whole modeling thing, so I'm going to apologize in advance for however I'm going to screw up," Yugyeom replied.
"Oh, by the way, my name is Kim Yugyeom."
Jinyoung refrained from saying, "I know," because he didn't want Yugyeom to thing that he was any weirder than he probably already assumed he was.
"I'm Park Jinyoung," he replied, trying to sound as un-awkward as possible.
"Nice to meet you, Jinyoung," Yugyeom said, his eyes crinkling up due to the smile on his face.
For a few uncomfortably silent seconds, neither of the pair made a move to do anything until Jinyoung gestured for Yugyeom to take a seat on the significantly more comfortable chair in the room.
Jinyoung started making delicate strokes of black, white, and gray on the blank canvas. The sight of Yugyeom with the warm sunlight streaming onto him, causing his hair to gleam, was one that Jinyoung felt he could drink in for days. The painting was slowly starting to take shape, and Jinyoung felt that hours had passed, but at the same time, he felt it had only been minutes. He lost all track of time as he painting Yugyeom's features, and he only realized how late it was getting when the sunlight that once illuminated the room had turned to moonlight.
He hadn't even noticed that Yugyeom had drifted into a light sleep until laid his brush down and looked over at the boy who was snoring quietly.
Jinyoung smiled at the sleepy figure of Yugyeom. He hated to admit it, but Jackson was right: he did 'gaze fondly' at him. He shook Yugyeom's shoulder gently, and his eyes slowly fluttered open.
"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
Jinyoung pulled out his phone from his pocket before reciting the time to Yugyeom.
"I guess I fell asleep. I'm a pretty poor excuse for a model," Yugyeom said with a small laugh.
"It's actually my fault for letting the time get away from me," Jinyoung smiled.
Yugyeom looked over Jinyoung's shoulder, and his eyes caught the back of the canvas.
"Can I see it?" he asked, gesturing to the painting.
Jinyoung nodded nervously, and Yugyeom navigated the dimly lit room until he reached the place where the easel was setting.
Jinyoung hadn't really looked at his work as a whole, and he felt his face drop in disappointment when he saw the finished product. The shades of black and gray covering the canvas made Yugyeom look dull and nothing like his radiant self.
Yugyeom stared at the painting in awe. He thought that it looked just like a photograph.
"It's amazing," he breathed out.
Jinyoung's heart warmed at the compliment, but he just wasn't satisfied. He hated to bother Yugyeom, but he needed to make this painting perfect.
"Do you think you could come again tomorrow?" Jinyoung asked.
Yugyeom nodded and gave Jinyoung another of his bright smiles.
The pair parted ways at the front gates of the university, and Jinyoung felt like shit when he arrived at his apartment.
He'd spent all that time on the painting, and it still hadn't turned out right. The thing that bothered him the most was that he knew the reason why the painting felt wrong. He just didn't want to face it.
It lacked the vibrant feeling that Yugyeom gave off. It lacked that colors that Jinyoung had been oh so careful to avoid.
His feet felt like lead as he drug himself into his bedroom and opened the door of his closet. Papers fluttered down from the top of the closet. Jinyoung carefully picked them up and saw the same vibrant colors that he was lacking. It was a colorful portrait of a boy he knew all too well - Mark Tuan.
He'd met Mark during his first year of high school. He had just transferred from the States, and, in Jackson's usual fashion, he befriended the new transfer student, which, in turn, meant that Jinyoung was practically required to become his friend.
The trio of Jackson, Jinyoung, and Mark soon became inseparable. They made for an odd group from the perspective of others: the gloomy Jinyoung, the troublemaker Jackson, and the quiet Mark. This didn't stop them from spending pretty much every waking moment together, to the dismay of most of their teachers.
Jinyoung had found the perfect muse in Mark, and Mark loved to see the lively colors of Jinyoung's paintings that seemed to dance across the canvas.
On a sticky summer night, Jinyoung was, once again, sketching the figure of Mark, when he was caught off guard. Mark awkwardly confessed to him, and Jinyoung felt as if he had fallen for him all over again.
Not much changed after they began dating. They still did stupid shit with Jackson, and Jinyoung still spent hours painting while Mark watched. The only difference was that they now started sharing clumsy kisses.
The second year of high school seemed to come quicker than anyone wished. School had only started back a week prior, and Jinyoung was touching up on his most recent painting: a side profile of Mark in a palette of beautiful colors. Mark had an appointment at the doctor that afternoon, and that was the only reason he wasn't staring in awe at the delicate way Jinyoung brushed the paint onto the canvas. Jinyoung dropped his paintbrush and it skittered onto the ground when he got the call from Mark's father.
He'd been in an accident. The doctors had done all they could, but it wasn't enough. He was gone.
He was gone.
Those words broke Jinyoung. None of the screaming and sobbing and shouting at whatever God was up in the heavens did anything. He was helpless.
He felt even worse when Mark's parents requested that one of his many paintings of Mark be displayed at his funeral.
"He would've wanted that. He was always happiest when he was with you and your paintings," they'd said.
Jinyoung barely remembered the funeral. His grief had practically numbed his senses. The only thing that had stood out to him was the stark contrast between the reds and yellows and greens and the gray of the sky and the black of the mourners clothing.
After the funeral, Jinyoung tried to use the vibrant hues that Mark used to adore, but he felt the pain of his loss overwhelm him every time. Soon, he began to use only the monochrome shades of black and white and gray.
Jinyoung carefully leafed through the many portraits of his first love that were filled with the beautiful colors he hadn't even thought of using in years. He repressed the tears that he felt welling up in his eyes and returned all the colorful artwork to its previous resting place at the top of his closet.
Jinyoung felt physically and mentally exhausted when he finally lied down on his mattress. He stared up at the blank ceiling until he drifted into a restless sleep.
The next morning he woke up to the obnoxious beeping of his alarm clock. He reluctantly pulled himself out of his bed and got dressed for the day ahead.
He left his apartment after wrapping a scarf around his neck. He took his time walking to the coffee shop that was the next block over. He entered the cozy shop and ordered his usual black coffee.
Afterwards, he went to his favorite art store and bought a new sketchbook along with a watercolor palette and a pack of artist's colored pencils.
When he met Yugyeom that afternoon, he felt anxiety swell in his chest. He took a seat on the old stool in front of his easel and sketched out Yugyeom's form in the soft hues of blue and green.
After the first day, it got easier and easier for Jinyoung to adjust to the colors. He drew Yugyeom in every shade of every color that he'd neglected over the past few years.
Over the course of these sunny afternoons, he got to know Kim Yugyeom, and Yugyeom got to know him. Jinyoung slowly opened up about his past, like a flower reluctant to bloom. Yugyeom blossomed with information about himself. He was a medical student studying to be a nurse. He had an older sister who was always doting on him. He hated spicy things, and he adored sweets.
He also found out on a cloudy day, when Jinyoung's color of choice had been blue, that Yugyeom happened to adore him as well.
Jinyoung felt happier than he had in years, and it was all due to a certain boy who seemed to be the literal embodiment of sunshine.
There was barely a month left until the end of the semester when Jinyoung finally began to work on his final project.
The subject was obvious. He no longer needed Yugyeom to model for him because he was familiar with every curve and crevice that made him up.
Jinyoung spent hours, days, weeks perfecting the work of art until the tips of his fingers looked like they'd been dipped in the rainbow.
He smiled at the finished project and, fittingly, named it "Color".
Fin.