vengeance | woosan

14

While preparing for the art show, Yeonjun helped me get dressed. However, we ended up arguing because he wanted to apply makeup to enhance my photos, aiming for an "aesthetically pleasing" look. I resisted because I felt it made me appear too feminine, which doesn't align with my style.

"Come on, at least let me add a little rosy tint to your lips," Yeonjun implored, his voice laced with a playful plea that was hard to resist.

"No," I said, a bit more sharply than intended. My protest was firm, a line drawn.

He paused, then, as if struck by a sudden idea, said, "Chapstick," offering it like a peace treaty. Reluctantly, I let my lips part just enough for him to apply it, the scent of raspberry filling the air between us, sweet and tempting.

"You're no fun," he huffed, a mock pout forming on his lips as he worked. When he finished, I couldn't help but stick my tongue out at him, a silent thank you and a tease all at once. Turning to the mirror, I saw a version of myself that was both familiar and new. The concealer he had applied so expertly made my under-eye circles vanish, leaving a version of me that looked refreshingly awake and, dare I say, naturally polished. My lips, now a shade pinker than usual, caught my attention. They looked like they had been kissed by a cool, early spring morning.

I glanced at Yeonjun, who was watching me with a smile that could light up the darkest rooms. "Let's just go," I grumbled.

Together, Yeonjun and I left the house, our destination the art show featuring Chanhee. I didn't know much about him, but his affinity for art seemed to align perfectly with his personality. Upon our arrival, Yeonjun wasted no time in capturing candid photos of me, each snap catching me more off guard than the last.

"Hey, at least tell me," I protested, but Yeonjun simply shook his head, his camera clicking away at a rapid pace. "That's the whole point of these pictures, San. You can't just pose; you've got to be natural."

"Whatever," I muttered, turning my attention away from his lens and towards the art that surrounded us. My eyes roamed the gallery, eventually settling on a piece that struck a chord within me. It was an oil painting depicting a distorted face gazing into a mirror. The concept was fascinating, a visual exploration of self-perception and the fluidity of identity. It stood out amongst the other works, pulling me into its narrative and leaving me pondering the story behind the brushstrokes.

"Oh my gosh, Yeonjun and San, you guys came!" A familiar voice echoed from behind. Turning around, I saw Chanhee, his face lighting up with joy as he embraced Yeonjun. After a brief moment, he turned to me with the same warmth, "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," I responded, my curiosity piqued by the artwork around us. I gestured towards the painting that had caught my eye earlier, asking, "Is that yours?"

Chanhee's smile faded slightly as he let out a huff, "No, that's Jung Jimin's piece," he then leaned closer, covering his mouth to whisper, "Wooyoung's older brother."

"Ooh," I said, nodding in understanding, intrigued by the connection.

Chanhee then eagerly grabbed Yeonjun and my arms, guiding us towards his own installation. It was a captivating black and white video showing him attempting to break a heart using various objects—a hammer, a golf club, his feet, and even a car. Yet, despite his efforts, the heart refused to break. Beside the small TV screen playing this visual metaphor was the actual heart itself, scarred with scratches and dents but still whole.

"This is 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart'," he introduced his piece with a sense of pride and a touch of vulnerability.

"Interesting," I remarked, my attention still partially on the video as I browsed through Chanhee's other works. Meanwhile, Yeonjun was busy capturing moments, his camera never resting. Soon, he pulled me aside, "Give me your phone so I can airdrop them to you." Handing over my phone, I watched him select and send the photos he thought I looked best in.