subtle|skz

-twenty-two-

HyunJin's POV

Wait patiently. That's what he told me. He said that once he had the green light to take the other two home he would. Then he'd come back and we could have our own alone time. It's been two hours since he left. I don't know what he got caught up in, but it's killing me.

I finished the painting. The one I never want anyone to see. I still don't know if I believe him or not—but the painting turned out nice. I can't really decide if it looks like me or if I tried to make my own face more appealing.

Every time someone tells me I'm pretty or attractive—I get worried. I don't want to depend on other peoples' opinions, but it's all I've ever heard growing up. I've always been 'pretty' to everyone. Then I look at the people I consider pretty and question who's wrong. Am I wrong? Are they wrong? Am I the one who isn't pretty? Or is what I find pretty actually the opposite?

I set my paintbrush down and let out a frustrated sigh. I turn toward the window and see my image reflected back at me with the help of the night sky. I reach up to touch my face before dropping my hands and closing my eyes. I take a shaky breath before opening my eyes once again. I look toward the painting I'd been working on and grab ahold of it. I toss it on the ground and stomp on the precious canvas.

"HyunJin—what the hell?" Chan is quick to hurry toward me the moment he steps inside. He pulls me back before I can do any actual damage to my work. There's a few scuff marks, but the image is still there—staring back at me like a haunting memory.

"I don't like it." I state coldly as my eyes refuse to budge from the piece.

"You don't have to ruin it." Chan leans down to pick it up and I stand there motionless.

"I said I don't like it. It's mine. I have every right to ruin it." I swallow hard as I talk back to the one person I love more than anything. I know I shouldn't. I know he's just trying to help, but I can't help it. I hate it. I hate seeing my own face. All I am is pretty. That's all anyone ever tells me.

"What's wrong? This isn't my Jinnie." Chan sets the canvas back on my easel and takes my face in his hands.

I just shake my head. I can't muster up the courage to tell him. I hate my face. I hate the fact it's superior to everything else I do. Am I pretty? Yeah. I know I'm attractive, but that's not what I want to be. I know my looks will always be one of my strong points, but that doesn't mean they should be the only strong point. Why can't everyone see everything else I work so hard on?

"Jinnie—Baby—talk to me. Channie Hyung can't help unless you tell me what's wrong." Chan tries to get me to talk, but it's almost as if my tongue weighs a million pounds. It has no desire to assist me in letting out my anguish.

All I can do is allow a single tear to fall. It trails down my face and Chan frowns as he wipes it away. He gently presses his lips to mine and it feels like a huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. He sees everything. He sees every piece of me that I work so hard to show the world. If no one else can—at least one person does.

"Just breathe. I'm not going anywhere. I don't know what's bothering you—but I promise I won't leave you. I'll stay right here with you for as long as you need me." Chan pulls me down onto the couch facing him. I rest my head on his shoulder and sniffle.

"As soon as you're ready to talk—I'll be ready to listen." Chan reassures me as he rubs at my back.

"I just—I—I feel like no one sees the real me. I work so hard at so many things—but all I get is people telling me I'm pretty—I like hearing it—but I want to be noticed for other things. That's why I work so hard on dancing. I want people to tell me I'm good at it." I explain quietly as I pull back to rest my hands on his chest. I take a shaky breath as he places his hands on my hips.