[oneshot] change (1/2) - request #5
Title: Change
Pairing: KyuMin
Summary: Kyuhyun practically stalks Sungmin, the renowned artist throughout the school and city. Sungmin is oblivious to the stalking, but Kyuhyun will do anything to get his attention.
Rating: PG
For: kirum
Spreading your wings…
And letting go.
Lee Sungmin
The sky was painted with a mixture of gray and blue - periwinkle, and getting darker and darker as it fades into the distance. A flower; symbolizing the blooming of life and forgiveness takes up the bottom left corner of the canvas, its burgundy colors fading into the background. A white dove; contrasting to the dark background, takes flight with a leaf in its beak; symbolizing rebirth. If you looked closely, a faceless man, searching the sky could be seen; his existence on the canvas symbolizing fate and destiny.
“Another one, eh?” Shindong grins, patting the smaller males shoulder. “Nice job Sungmin, you never fail to impress.”
Sungmin, brushing the growing bangs from his eyes, smiles timidly and shrugs. “Just doing what I do best.”
Shindong chuckles, “Anything to write with and on, and it’ll be a masterpiece. Right?” He smiles whole-heartedly and waves. “I got to get to practice, thanks for inviting me.”
“Anytime!” Sungmin calls, seeing his friend off, jogging down the crowded art gallery and out the doors. Sighing contently as he stares at the painting - his painting - he smiles with newfound energy.
It all started out as a simple pass-time activity. He joined the school art club and didn’t care much about entering competitions; art was his way of therapy with dealing with the crazy world and life. He liked how he could express virtually anything through a simple stroke of his brush, the colors adding the words that he didn’t need to say. And, in some turn of events, he found himself in his first year of high school and seeing his art being displayed for the first time.
From then, it has been two years and he was called many things; at school and sometimes, from those random art critics he meets in public. The Art Prodigy, Da Vinci’s Reincarnate, Picasso’s Pupil and so on. He was called for requests of certain paintings, he was called to attend some of the country’s top art gallery openings, and he was called, called and called.
In the beginning, he felt proud and happy that people appreciated his art; people aside from family and close friends. But slowly, everything became too hectic, too busy. This wasn’t why he did what he loved; being paid by people who want to buy his masterpieces, as they would call it. Or have his picture taken beside his recent display to be spread through the media section of the daily newspaper.
As soon as it came, the energy in him dies as his eyes droop down to the marbled floor and wish he could blend into the background; no more of this Lee Sungmin, the great young artist. Just then, a crowd of reporters decides to surround him. He nods and smiles, answering briefly and short; he never was a talkative person.
Suddenly, a shudder runs down his spine, a feeling of being watched gripping his stomach. You’re surrounded my camera’s and people, Sungmin. Of course you’re being watched. But, his head snaps to his left, and for the briefest moment, before someone could even take a shallow breath, his eyes meet a dark heated gaze. His breath catches in his throat as his body tenses and prickles. A rush of emotions overwhelms him as his eyes refuse to break the eye contact.
But when he blinks, the person isn’t there anymore; at the corner of the pottery section of the gallery. Clearing his throat and willing his heart to calm, Sungmin wonders if that was a figment of his imagination as he continues on with the reporters.
(------)
“Local young artist blows community away! As his name is being spread across the country, the young prodigy didn’t fail to surprise and awe the public on Saturday night of the opening of a new gallery. His art was bought that night for $3,500 by a tourist, who “was attracted how the painting spoke to [him].” But the incredible feat doesn’t end there, Lee Sungmin (picture right), donated all of the money to a local charity of choice. No hesitation. While having a beautiful talent and photogenic looks, he also has a heart of an angel.”
“I’ve already read it Donghae, so stop yelling in my ear.” Sungmin mutters, taking the newspaper article from the younger males hands. He sits on it and resumes his lunch.
“Hey! Hyung, come on! I promised my mom she can have it back! She wants to keep it.” Donghae, hair messed and uniform untidy, cries as he reaches for the clipping. He yelps when his hand, hovering right over Sungmin’s butt, get’s slapped away.
“There are plenty of other newspapers that your mother can get it from. If you behave, I’ll give it back to you.” Sungmin bargains. “Now, let me finish eating.”
Donghae crosses his arms. “Fine. But you better sign that.” He rolls his eyes and leans on his elbows. “I don’t know why she’s so crazed over you, or to be precise, your art. It’s creepy…having a mom being a fan of your friend.” He shudders. “Her eyes become so glazed and dreamy whenever I mention you.”
Sungmin’s hair on the back of his neck rise at the mention of eyes, like those eyes that night. He clears his throat and looks at Donghae. “You were there that night right? You saw the gallery opening and everything?”
Donghae grimaces and nods, “Unfortunately, yes.” He sticks his tongue out and fiddles with his tie. “I don’t understand why so many people like wasting their time walking around a museum of colors, no offense.”
“None taken.” Sungmin mutters around a mouth full of food. He knew Donghae’s style, and for one thing, it wasn’t the patient style. His young friend had to be moving, whether on his feet or with his mind. He liked being active and surrounded by people; he wasn’t the type that would come to an art gallery of all places out of his own free will.
“I liked that painting you did, Emotions on Paper.” Donghae comments. “My mom surely loved it. I lost her half way.” He rolls his eyes.
Sungmin nods and drains his drink. “Did you see anyone, you know, tall and kind of mysterious looking?” He inquires. All night afterwards, the man who sparked emotions in him like no other was on his mind. His conscious constantly nagging him to find out whom that guy was. And why he was staring at Sungmin so intensely.
“I saw many people hyung. You can’t expect me to remember all those faces.” Donghae deadpans, raising an eyebrow.
Sungmin sighs, feeling a bit hopeless. “Anyone who stood out to you?”
“There was that freaky looking reporter from What’s Up Seoul.” Donghae says, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry, but nobody really comes to mind.”
Sungmin waves his hand. “No, it’s fine. I was just asking…” Like lightning, a jolt of electricity shoots down his body, rippling down his spine and to his toes. Feeling suddenly very uncomfortable, Sungmin fidgets in his seat and looks nervously around the school cafeteria. (In his midst of worry, Donghae slips the newspaper article from under his butt.)
“You okay hyung?” Donghae asks, frowning when he sees Sungmin looking uneasily around, head turning side to side and eyes frantically scanning the area.
“Mhmm. Fine. Just fine.” Sungmin mumbles, shaking his head and focusing back to Donghae. “I’m done eating. Let’s get out of here.”
Shrugging, Donghae follows, soon departing to play soccer with his other friends, and leaving Sungmin to wander the school halls as he gets the chill of being watched.
(------)
For two more weeks it goes on. At random intervals, when he’s studying, when he’s eating, when he’s painting, even when he is in the bathroom, he will get the chill, a shudder of being watched. Observed.
I’m going to go mental if this keeps happening. Sungmin sighs, sitting depressingly in front of a white canvas in the school art room. Am I imagining things? Do I really need to see a doctor? Is there even a treatment for paranoia? Worn-out and stressed, he shakes his head and quickly preps everything.
“Get yourself together Sungmin, you have a deadline to meet.” He grumbles, comfortably seating himself and grabbing a brush.
That evening, he throws away the completed art into the trash bin behind the school and moodily marches back home.
(------)
“I can’t take this anymore, it’s driving me up the wall.” Sungmin murmurs, staring up at his ceiling.
“I think you’re just paranoid, stay cool and steer away from painting for now. Maybe it’s all the stress from the upcoming show making you agitated.” Yesung, a family friend, comments over the phone.
Sungmin sits up. “You think so?”
“I know so. You remember my first show? Well, I was like how you are; totally psyched out and stressed.”
“But that was your first show. This is like my… I don’t know, but it isn’t my first.” Sungmin huffs.
“Just try and take it easy for the next couple of weeks, I’m sure it’ll pass.” Yesung reassures.
Sungmin sighs. “Did you know what I did today? I threw away a painting, yeah, I chucked it into the garbage bin.”
“And you did this because…?”
“That’s the thing! I don’t know! I finished it, hoping it’ll be good enough for the show. But…” Sungmin shakes his head. Never has he thrown away or left an artwork unfinished. “This paranoia is getting to me. Hard.”
“…Are you alright?” Yesung asks, concerned. He snorts when Sungmin just moans out an muffled answer. “Want to hang with us tomorrow? Come on, maybe some fresh air is what you need. Some friends to hang out with.” Sungmin could hear the grin in Yesung’s voice. “When was the last time you and I had some actual fun together? Art galleries do not count.”
Sungmin let’s out a breathless chuckle. “Okay, okay.”
Yesung quickly hangs up, speaking something of band practice and whatnot.
(------)
Wide, familiar grins surround him as arms wrap around his shoulders.
“Hey guys, long time no see.” Sungmin greets, chuckling when Hyukjae, a junior high friend, jumps and gives him an enormous hug.
“How’s your art going so far? I got your invite, sorry I couldn’t make it.” Kibum says, flashing his bright smile.
Sungmin grins and pats his shoulder. “No, it’s fine. It’s going well, how’s your acting?” They exchange friendly chat, getting lost into their own world for a while - something they tended to do when they start a conversation.
“Enough with the chit-chat, let’s go!” Yesung hollers, earning whoops of excitement and agreement in return. Under late afternoon’s lazy rays, the four males enter the world of men - the amusement park.
(------)
Ride after ride. Food after food. They end the day with a final ride of the Sky Drop.
“Guys, I really can’t do this.” Hyukjae whines, eyes wide as he stares up at the enormous ride. The people currently on it have their feet dangling over their seats, as they drop from over-looking the park to suddenly going down with gravity; their screams are drowned out by the rush of air from the machine.
“Come on, don’t be a wimp Hyukjae.” Kibum says, rolling his eyes and walking ahead to get in line.
“It’ll be fun, come on!” Sungmin pouts, widening his eyes. Although his appearance gave him the shy, timid image, given the right occasion and friends, he’ll go all out and become a ‘Yes man!’
Yesung simply grabs the whimpering boys arms and forcefully drags him to where Kibum was standing.
“I’ll cry! I swear, I’ll cry!” Hyukjae shouts as Kibum and Yesung’s strong arms prevent him from running away. “I’ll embarrass you guys, so just let me go!”
“You’re already embarrassing us.” Kibum mutters. “And you always cry, crybaby.” He smirks when Hyukjae gives him a deathly glare.
“I hate you all.” Hyukjae mutters before a hand clamps down on his mouth and he is dragged towards the ride.
(------)
( Change Pt 2 )