Black on Pastel <Vkook>

4. The gallery

The scrapbook was set on the podium in front of Jungkooks display. There was also a small table with post cards, prints, stationary, and little notebooks for people to buy, considering they like what he made. It was mostly for the families and younger people who might (but probably won't) be there. But that really didn't matter to Jungkook because the gallery was paying him $5,000 to show is artwork here.

   The officials of the building entered the room and inspected all of the stations where Jungkook and other artists had their displays set up. There must've been 20 others there, all with amazing work. Some, Jungkook thought were absolutely amazing, he could never surpass them as an artist. But others... Okay.
   A man dressed in nice clothing came to Jungkook's display and straightened a stack of prints. He smiled politely at Jungkook and walked away. Jungkook shifted awkwardly, not having anything to do before the event starts.

11:00 is what the clock on his phone said. Only 10 minuets.

He went to the podium and flipped through the pictures of his own paintings. The three pieces that hung on the wall of the large room were not included in the book. But these were the paintings and sketches that he posted on his tumblr for everyone to see. Not just snobby rich people.

Soon after, people began trickling in. People in expensive looking clothing, young, hipster looking people, even tourists. Jungkook wasn't expecting such a variety of people. He was pleasantly surprised.

   A father and young daughter approached his set up. The little girl, maybe 4 or 5 years old, awed at the art that hung before her. She then turned her attention to the prints on the table.

    "Daddy daddy! Can I have one??" She asked, pulling on her fathers sleeve and enthusiastically pointing to a print of the painting in the middle of the 3 that sat on the wall. The man sighed with a reluctant smile and looked at Jungkook
   "How much?" He asked.
   "$15" was his reply and the man handed him 3 $5 bills. Jungkook picked the one on the  top of the stack and rolled it up. He then stuffed it into a cardboard tube and handed it to the little girl with a soft smile, happy that someone so small can appreciate a thing like this. It calmed Jungkook's nerves. The black cloud above his head lightened a little bit and he stood a little taller. Such a small thing to gain so much confidence. But it meant a lot to the raven haired boy. But that confidence diminished when a big group of important looking people walking through the door.
   He watched as they stay in a small pack, going from display to display, discussing their opinions with subtle nods and expressions. He couldn't tell how they felt about other people's paintings, and he started to worry.
   Jungkook greeted people passing him but always kept an eye on that group who was steadily coming towards him. He was getting insanely, seeing that every so often a look of disgust forms on the groups faces. What would they think of his?

   They finally found Jungkook's station and stood, staring at the 3 works on the wall.
   "Good morning," Jungkook said smiling, but nervous.
  The small crowd stood silently for what felt like years to Jungkook. But a woman who was flipping through the scrapbook looked up and spoke.
   "What's it supposed to be?"
  Jungkook shifted a bit but answered confidently.
   "It's non-objective," he said, "It's not supposed to be specifically anything."
   "But what's the emotion you're conveying?"
   Jungkook froze. He didn't know how to respond. He never gave his art a set mood that it was required to give off. Everyone saw art differently. He thought that was left to the eyes of the observer, not the creator.
  "W-well I uh," he stuttered, "m-my paintings aren't c-created to give a
sp-specific emotion." Jungkook scratched his head, "I-I uh, think that it's up t-to the uh, audience's imagination."
   He stood awkwardly between the crowd and his art. There was a long silence. What could they be thinking? Did they like it? Did they hate it? What are they gonna say? Are they gonna say anything?
   After a while the nicely dressed people shuffled away without giving a word of appreciation.
Jungkook's heart race took off. The cloud above turned back to dark grey and his shoulders were suddenly bombarded by a heavy weight.
   One of the men in the back of the group said loudly, "young artists are too ambitious. That's why their art is never sophisticated."
   Jungkook felt something strange in his stomach and the cloud became heavier and heavier and had turned jet black once again. He bolted off to the restroom, needing to escape from hall that was gradually getting smaller from all of the people that just kept pouring in.

   He dove into a stall and cried.

-

There were already a good amount of people in the gallery. All kinds of people. Mostly rich collectors who were so stingy that if you were any less than Monet, you were no good.
   He looked around the room, looking for a good place to start. Everywhere there were amazing pieces of art. Paintings of flowers, animals, abstract everything's and cubic nothings. Everything so beautiful and well made. Insane amounts of effort put into each piece.
   Suddenly a familiar painting caught his eye. It was an acrylic painting. Abstract. No shape or form. It was pastel colors pieced together brilliantly with a black design, almost an overlay, painted over the color. It was like darkness had cracked through the color. It was amazing. He knew this painting. He had seen it before. He remembered exactly. It was a Jeon Jungkook painting.
   He ran to the display and looked for anyone who looked like they may be the owner of the art but no one seemed fit the aura of someone who had painted this. But Taehyung wanted to meet Jungkook. He was his favorite artist anyways. So he decided to wait. Not that it would be much help though, he had no idea what he looked like.

He went to a nearby wall and sat on the floor. Jungkook's booth was still visible. He admired the 3 different paintings and took up about 6 pages in his notebook describing them. All amazing. All beautiful. All made him feel something. That was Jungkook's art. He didn't give it emotion, it gave you emotion.
   He wrote in that little book for about 20 minuets before he desperately needed to use the restroom. Though he didn't want to leave in case Jungkook ever showed up. But eventually his bladder couldn't take it and he sprinted for the toilet.

   He ran inside to an almost empty restroom aside from a young looking raven haired boy hunched over the sink. He ignored the boy and rushed into the closest stall.

+

They bout to meet.

I'm really gonna go deeper into their relationship honestly. I'm gonna make this 1803920x fluffier than it already is.