12:30 AM

Ch. 2

-Kyoung-mi-

"And then, he literally just left me there. Yeah, I know. He left me on the street without even saying anything," I heard Mina's voice through the phone say. I laughed. Mina's boyfriend stories came to my disposal every week but I never tire of them. There was a new element of humor in them every time. 

"Kyoung-miiiii, I wish I had a boyfriend like Seventeen's Joshua. He's known to be a gentleman and he's soooo dreamy", Mina said as I choked on my water. 

"Last week you said you wanted to be with Jeonghan!", I replied, laughing at Mina. Mina was very very pretty, so she could usually get any guy she really wanted. However, she always picked guys depending on their appearance, so every week she would have a new one. 

"I can't be with someone who's prettier than me!!", Mina shrieked, followed by a series of crashes. I chuckled. 

I was never that into guys as Mina was. I mean, I did have a boyfriend once upon a time, but we didn't go past holding hands. 2 weeks in, he told me he had an interest in another girl so I told him to go for it. I hadn't even really liked him much; I had only accepted him because Mina insisted he was "super hot".

In terms of falling in love, I suppose I did once upon a time.  But that was a long, long time ago. And I was so young, I wonder if it even really counted. 

"Kyoung-mi ah, it's your birthday in 4 days. You're going to turn 22, doesn't that mean something? You're 22 and you still haven't lost your V card, much less had a proper boyfriend!", Mina complained as I heard her picking up papers. 

I shook my head. "I'm not as boy crazy as you. I don't need boys in my life, they only bring me down", I said, smiling at my paintings hung up on my walls. Art was my passion. I've been drawing since I was 5, and I haven't stopped for a single day. Unfortunately, lately I haven't been able to sell much, but...

"Alright, alright. But tomorrow, you're going on a blind date with me. And no objections! You don't have to fall in love but just have fun, okay?", Mina said. I could feel her worry through the phone. 

I sighed. "Fine, fine. Now go and work on your essay!", I said, saying my farewells and hanging up. Mina had been trying to do this for years, but I had always declined. But since I was feeling a little out of it lately, I might as well humor her. 

I stood up from my bed and walked in my studio. 12:04 A.M., the clock read. I walked to the center, where an easel with a cloth over it stood. 

I threw away the cloth, looking at the painting. It was a beautiful painting, with small contrasts and deep shadows. But the beauty wasn't in question.

"Who are you?", I muttered to myself. For days straight I was unavailable to paint anything but this one figure. It was a tall male, sometimes with varying hair color, but always the same face that was oddly familiar. It certainly wasn't someone I've seen before. Living in New York, it would hard to remember any faces you see on the street, but I've developed that skill easily. 

I had no idea who this was. All I knew was I couldn't stop painting him. Every single time I sat down to paint, I would think of something to draw. For the last few weeks, I had gotten a commission to paint a Switzerland landscape. And every day, I sat down thinking, "Switzerland landscape. Switzerland landscape. Switzerland landscape." But my hand refused to obey, and I only drew this man for weeks. 

I didn't tell anybody about this problem out of embarrassment. But my commission was due in 4 days, and I couldn't get out of it. 

I let out a long sigh, standing up and heading to my kitchen. I had found big success so far, landing myself my very own penthouse in the busy streets of New York. I've gotten thousands of commissions so far, making my savings near millions. I lived a life of luxury, doing the job I wanted. 

So... what was this heaviness? Every day, I woke up alone, staring at my painted ceiling and blinking. Staring at nothing. 

I lacked companionship, I guess. Even I realize this a little. Mina was always a good friend to me, but she was still taking college courses. She was constantly busy and visited me less and less as it got closer to exam months. I used to tell her everything, but now even now I avoided talking about my current problem. 

A boyfriend. Could I get one? I suppose I could try. It wouldn't be very hard to. Many men have tried to take me to dinner, but I always declined because of my busy schedule or lack of energy. 

I took a sip of coffee, trying to let loose of the thoughts. I didn't need to think such thoughts when that option was clearly not available to me. 

I took another sip of my coffee, thinking about my next plan of action. I could keep trying to paint my landscape and blast music with my headphones to try to avoid any thoughts except  the landscape. No mysterious and beautiful man. 

Yes, that seemed best. I looked at the clock. 12:28 AM. It was getting real late, but I was determined to finish my artwork. 

But first... time to eat my leftover cake from yesterday. It was a cloud cake form my favorite bakery, Tous Le Jours. The bakery was Korean-American and world famous for it's delicious pastries. I was addicted to their stuff. 

I took the pretty box out of my refrigerator and set it on my dinner table. Taking a long knife, I cut out a graciously large piece and carefully shifted it onto my plate. 

Using an intricately decorated fork I had obtained from London, I dug into the cake and chomped down the piece in one bite. It was delicious, as expected. I couldn't taste even one flaw. 

I quickly swallowed and reached for another bite of the cake, eager to taste more. 

As my mouth closed on the second bite, I felt a strange shock pulse through my body. H-Huh? What is this??

My legs twitched. My arms wouldn't stop shaking. My eyelids refused to obey me and open shut on their own. 

A feeling of panic shot through my bones. What was happening? Poison? In the cake? Who would poison me? This was New York; even if "rival artists" were even a thing nobody would resort to poison in this day and age. There's no logical explanation for what was happening. Food poisoning was impossible. My refrigerator was always cleaned out as I was an extreme germaphobe. 

I fell to the floor, writhing. It felt as if my body was being torn apart. I grabbed at my hair. It hurts it hurts stop stop stop sTOp.

Tears streamed down my face. I relaxed my strained muscles, letting go. I gave into the pain and let my whole body sting in hurt. 

As I closed my eyes, I found a star.