not what you think

xxxvi: n

Taehyung failed to visit his gallery for the mammoth segment of three weeks over his father's entailing of visiting Jeju Island to memorialize his latter-day deal with the elite construction company.

Delivering the raw materials which is. For Ayanggyo.

An elongated three year project, and he entailed Seokjin and him in every greeting with the reciprocating end.

His psyche wasn't emancipated of the stranded lover, but it wasn't strayed away from the contemporary employee making his entrance in the gallery.

The heftier, tenacious male with the artlessly deadened yet tranquil visuals, if he would be less fortified.

The information of his potential as a painter has him immersively on tenterhooks.

He has his friend Grover, but not everyday he has someone in his to-be augmenting art gallery to have an employee with as identical deftness as his.

He must not surmise anything from the male, yet he does, to append to the caliber of the infrastructure.

"Taehyung, you've spaced out again," His father voices, ushering him out of his rumination.

"I'm sorry, aboji. It's just I've been away from the gallery this long, and I wonder how Namjoon hyung has been handling it with his classes," Taehyung says.

"Namjoon is an adept boy, I'm sure he's handling it as well as being a lecturer," Taein voices in reassurance, sipping in the cup of ginger tea, viewing the cerulean yet translucent loch up front, perceiving his wife and mother leniently trudging as the prior tenderly glides the wheelchair where the latter sits.

"Seokjin should've come with us. He needed the change of scenery from all these business and city life," Taein says again.

"Hyung still hasn't forgiven me so there's no way he'd come," Taehyung murmurs, attuning a bit in his chair in the balcony to their idiosyncratic beach house.

"He still hasn't gotten over Namjoon," Taein says, a sigh emanating from him.

"I think no one in their right mind who knows Namjoon hyung as well as more than friends can actually get over him," Taehyung says.

"You sound like you're more than friends with Namjoon."

"Hyung is literally my brother at this point, and I want him to be happy. It's just that Seokjin hyung's father won't accept their relationship, and Namjoon hyung was tired of hiding it from his parents."

"Did he leave the gallery during the opening? Because I didn't see him after I entered with Seokjin."

"He probably did. It explains why I couldn't find him while I was closing up. It was only halmoni with me."

Taein nods in comprehension, ceasing the remainder of the tea, stowing it on the bantam table.

"We're flying back to Seoul tomorrow, so you can attend the gallery the day after," Taein says before standing up, "I'll go pack my things. You should too."

Taehyung nods as he views his father's retracting figure in his and Taehyung's mothers cubicle, ascending the stairs.

He views back to the picturesqueness, his mother and his beloved grandmother, and heaves a sigh, delving into rumination yet again.

He has morphed the gallery, now what?

He is in dearth of ingenuity, and he entails sketching on the canvas, perceiving the dousing of hues in his hands and visuals and ensemble, and the wand.

He could bid indie artists to lodge their works and commission them, but he discerns it being too early, when it's been a bit less than five months of inaugurating the edifice.