balconies • seventeen

canvases and coffee (3)

"It's a sharp for fuck's sake, a damn A sharp."

Jihoon presses the key repeatedly in frustration (although it looked more like he was going to destroy that certain key) as he grumbles, wondering why on earth he decided to actually agree to have this job. The pay was good, amazing, even; but he never asked for a job where he had to suffer this much with a girl this terrible at piano.

Eunha raises her hand in defense, "Okay, whatever, I was bot born for music alright, now excuse me, Beethoven, I shall do more finger exercises." Jihoon was a little pleased at her response, although his eye was twitching at Beethoven (and the fact that her sentence sounded weird). Eunha (who, in his opinion, has a mental age of a five year old) was one of his best yet frustrating students he's ever had. She only plays the pieces that she likes well and leaves the rest beyond shitty level.

Well, Jihoon's not one to talk. He doesn't like playing classics.

"Tell me why I'm giving you classes in the middle of the night again," Jihoon sighs as he sat on the stool by the piano, sighing at his life choices. Eunha just shrugs.

"We both know you're never free in the morning. Especially with the amount of workload you tend to complain about," Eunha snorts, crossing her legs. Placing the music sheets neatly into a file that Jihoon had given her once, she looks at the older, waiting for his reply.

"I'm heading home early today. I have an essay to submit by five." Jihoon tells the girl who was just about to start playing the chords. Eunha pouts, and Jihoon knows she's going to start rambling over this is the exact reason why she never improves and that's because Jihoon keeps cutting down the time for their classes so he can do his work-

"It's not just any work, alright, it's a really important essay-"

"We all know you want to finish your painting, Jihoon."

Eunha's mother steps into the large living room, eyeing them from the door. Jihoon was flustered knowing that he's been caught red handed, but at least her mother understands. God bless her.

"I'll tell her to practice more often. Run along now." She gestures Jihoon towards the door and he thanks her for letting him off for a painting.

What was Jihoon's next piece about? Well he doesn't know either. He hasn't got any story behind it yet. There are times where he feels his stomach tingle and the inspiration flowing endlessly throughout his body, but he just doesn't know how to translate it into colors. He doesn't know what was this next painting's special trait was. This painting had to go into his portfolio, so he needed to do it with all of his heart. With a heap of emotions. This had to be his best painting, so without the right feeling, Jihoon's never going to get started.

This time Jihoon didn't paint on the easel, he experimented drip painting, which was done on the floor. In the mornings he tries so hard not to bump into the buckets of paint on the floor right next to his bed. He tries hard not to fall onto the painting and cause an unwanted mistake. Moreover, step on it. Jihoon might as well get his own studio after this.

It was almost midnight (he questions himself why he agrees to Eunha's piano class at this hour), and Jihoon lightly jogs to get back to his apartment. He almost missed his stop when he dozed off in the bus by accident, thankfully, woken up by tbe bus driver who seemed to remember his place; probably beacuse one; Jihoon's definitely a regular on the bus and two; the bus driver probably finds the boy amusing. Or something like that.

Jihoon runs into a few people he knew while walking back to his block; Seungcheol with Mingyu (probably discussing about something that's a million won worth wince they were dressed in suits), Minghao looks almost lifeless as he tries to squeeze out a bright smile while waving towards Jihoon, and Hansol with his usual red headphones again. He's seeing Hansol quite often these days; what has the boy been up to?