Even during the drive home from the warehouse, Jongin couldn’t escape the other two harping at him to accept Kim Minseok’s commission request. By the end, his patience had thinned to its very last thread and it took every ounce of his virtually non-existent self-control to not break the first thing he saw in his house when they walked through the front door.

“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn and refusing to paint again, Jongin. Isn’t art supposed to be your life?”

“Well, I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn in pushing me to do something I clearly don’t want to do,” Jongin snapped at his older brother as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He desperately needed an aspirin to get rid of the headache that was forming after listening to Jongdae and Yixing talk non-stop about this. “And so what if art is my life? That doesn’t mean I want to paint anything for your boss and you can’t force me to.”

“He’s commissioning you for artwork,” Jongdae clarified hotly as he adamantly followed the artist into the kitchen, almost stepping on Jongin’s heels from how close he was to his younger brother. “It’s not like you won’t be compensated for doing this. My boss will pay you piles of money to paint him something.”

“That’s not the issue!”

“Then what is?!” the elder Kim brother blew up, having just about reached his wit’s end as well.

He was about to continue ranting when Yixing placed a hand on his shoulder and murmured, “Calm down, Jongdae. Yelling at Jongin isn’t going to help convince him to accept Mr. Kim’s request.”

“Oh, so you’re on his side rather than mine?” the artist spat, having heard Yixing even though he was currently rummaging—quite loudly—through a cupboard for the plastic white bottle that was filled with aspirin tablets.

“Jongin, this isn’t about me taking sides,” his manager said, his tone tinged with both exhaustion and exasperation. “I just happen to agree with Jongdae that you should accept Mr. Kim’s request. You haven’t completed any commissions for almost a year now and this is a great chance for you to pick up some work.”

“But you know why I haven’t done anything,” Jongin snarled. He mercilessly shoved aside several tin boxes, causing them to clatter loudly against each other and against the side of the wooden cupboard.

“Well, yes, but maybe if you tried painting for someone else rather than yourself, it could—”

“No, it won’t!” Jongin slammed the cupboard door shut, using so much force that all of the other cupboard doors also rattled noisily, and then tightly gripped the edge of the marble counter as he hunched over, seething with frustration over the situation. The aspirin bottle was nowhere to be found and his migraine was only getting worse by the second, not helped at all by how much he was shouting. Feeling a sudden pain in his chest, as if there were sharp claws closing around his heart and squeezing it to death, Jongin forced himself to take several deep breaths before saying in a low voice, “First and foremost, I paint for myself. If I’m not at a place where I can paint what I want and be satisfied with the content I create, then what makes you think I can paint for someone else and do a good job?”

“You could try,” Yixing said, desperation beginning to creep into his voice. “Jongin, you know it never hurts to try.”

“I can’t do it and I won’t!” The artist slammed his fists on the tiled counter, not caring that spikes of pain shot through his hands upon the harsh impact. “So stop trying to force me into agreeing to this! I’m not accepting any commission requests from anyone and that’s final!”

Jongdae curled up his lip in displeasure as he glared at Jongin’s tensed up back. “You’d think that someone like you would be grateful for being given such a golden opportunity,” he muttered, although he made sure he spoke loud enough to be heard by his younger brother. “But no, you insist on being selfish until the very end.”

There was a pregnant pause and Jongin’s knuckles turned whiter as he dug his fingernails into his palms. However, when he finally spoke, the artist’s voice was eerily calm. “Please enlighten me, Jongdae, on how I am the selfish one when you are the one coercing me into doing something just so you can win points with your boss.” Jongin slowly turned around, a sneer on his face, as he continued, “Did you name-drop me during your interview? Is that how you got this so-called important job? By using me because you’re too inept to do anything by yourself?”

“Jongin, that was extremely rude!” Yixing chastised, but the artist pointedly ignored the Chinese male’s interjection.

“Get over yourself,” his older brother then retorted, the veins in his neck visibly showing. “I kept our relationship a secret from the moment I first stepped into his office and saw a bunch of prints of your artwork framed around the room, because the last thing I wanted was a hand-out from a fan of yours.”

“Then why do you keep asking me to do this?!” Jongin screeched, unable to hold back his frustration. “That completely defeats the point of trying to keep our lives separate!”

“Because, now that he knows we’re brothers, I know my boss will keep asking me about you until I go absolutely insane!”

Jongin stormed past Jongdae and Yixing, trying to escape the kitchen as fast as possible. Right now, he was the one going crazy.

“Do you think I like knowing people at work are going to see me differently now that they know I’m Kim Jongin’s older brother?” Jongdae continued, staunchly following Jongin into the dining room. “Do you think I like hearing your name everywhere I go, when all I want is just a few hours free of you? Work is supposed to be my haven away from you, where I can just be myself and pretend you don’t exist at all!”

This time, Yixing fixed Jongdae a reproachful look, but the elder Kim brother was too fired up to even notice the silent reprimand.

“Then do it! No one is stopping you!” Jongin roared as he whirled around to face Jongdae again. “Stop asking me to paint for your boss and we’ll pretend this never happened! In fact, let’s just start acting like we’re strangers from now on, since me being your brother is so burdensome!”

“Okay, you two, this is getting out of hand—”

“You know what, Jongin? I’ve just about had it up to here with you being an entitled, self-absorbed brat throughout your entire life!” Jongdae yelled at his younger brother. “Ever since we were kids, it’s always been you! You—you—you!” Each “you” was punctuated with a sharp poke into the artist’s chest. “No matter what, Mom and Dad always let you do whatever you wanted, just because you wanted it!”

“Maybe that’s because I deserved it all—”

“No!” Jongdae shrieked. “I worked just as hard as you did, but no one ever saw me! It was always ‘Jongin, this’ or ‘Jongin, that’ and no one ever gave me a chance!”

“Don’t blame your stupid inferiority complex on me!” the artist shouted back. “I’m not responsible for your low self-esteem. That’s all on you!”

“All on me?” the elder Kim brother scoffed. “You’ve never failed to mention how useless I am, how I’m a waste of space, just because I’m not as successful as you are. Well, news flash, Jongin: not everyone is a prodigy like you, but that doesn’t mean we deserve to be treated like dirt!”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve given you so much, especially when you were unemployed after graduating from university. Your bank account is as full as it is because of me! Your life at home is as comfortable as it is because of me!” Jongin was ready to pop a blood vessel from how vexing this argument was. “If anything, the child that Mom and Dad spoiled was you! Any other parents would have forced their adult son to live on his own and support himself after a certain point, but no. They let you live here rent-free and they never expect anything from you, while I worked non-stop to get to where I am today. I earned everything I have.”

Jongdae drew himself up as high as he could, internally cursing how he had gotten the short end of the stick when it came to genetics as well. Talent, brains, genetics, everything had been bestowed upon Jongin from birth. Jongdae had always been the black sheep of the family, the forgotten one who would never amount to anything when compared to Jongin. And it was such an insult to hear his younger brother victimize himself like this when life had always been more difficult for Jongdae.

Jongin would never understand what it was like to be proud of something he had poured his heart and soul into, only for his younger brother to one-up him with ease and take away even the tiniest sliver of delight in finally succeeding at something that was worthy of being lauded over.

Jongin would never understand what it was like to always live in someone else’s shadow, to never been seen as an equal.

Jongin would never understand what it was like to be the disappointing first child of the Kim family.

“I am sick and tired of being put down by you all of the time,” Jongdae said through gritted teeth. “I struggled in the dark by myself for years and when I finally did something right, you still belittled me. I’ve never asked you for anything up until now and you can’t even be bothered to do one freaking favor for me.”

“That’s a load of dung! You’ve asked me to help you with so many things in the past!” A guttural growl built up in Jongin’s throat as he turned away and started stomping up the stairs to his bedroom. “I’m just as sick and tired of dealing with you, Jongdae! I’m not going to paint for your boss, so don’t ever try asking me again!”

“Jongin, wait!” Yixing was about to race up the steps after the artist, but the tall male briefly looked back with a smoldering glare.

“I’m not doing it!” he reiterated, almost screaming, before reaching the top and disappearing into his bedroom. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, causing the walls to vibrate from the sheer force, and seconds later, there was a resounding click as Jongin locked himself in his bedroom.

--

The artist was sprawled on his bed, his hair messy and his clothes rumpled, after hiding himself under his blanket and attempting to nap for about an hour. It had taken him too long to fall asleep and even then, his subconscious had been extremely active, as if he were still awake. Jongin didn’t feel any more rested than he had before his nap, which angered him even further.

Who was Jongdae to tell him how difficult his life was when all his older brother did was run errands for work and play video games at home?

He wasn’t the one with an inexplicable debilitating physical condition that left him unable to perform his job, unable to partake in his passion.

He wasn’t the one carrying the weight of the world’s expectations on his shoulders, feeling the pressure to live up to his prodigy title.

He wasn’t the one being constantly urged by others to do something he had no desire, no interest in doing.

Life was simple for Jongdae. All he needed to do was go to work, do whatever people at corporate offices did, and follow whatever tasks his boss laid out for him each day.

There was no thinking involved. There was no imagination involved.

If he felt unhappy about his current position in life, then all Jongdae needed to do was find something else that he truly enjoyed and pursue that instead of frequently complaining about what he didn’t have.

What an idiot.

Jongin rolled around, feeling extremely restless. Staying in his bedroom felt like he was trapped in a cage, even though he had voluntarily placed himself in captivity. He couldn’t run away again, since it would be a repeat of Yixing freaking out upon being unable to locate Jongin when the artist had been found by Do Kyungsoo and taken to the ophthalmologist’s house that one rainy evening. Dealing with an angry Yixing again was the last thing Jongin wanted to do, especially after experiencing this morning’s disaster with Jongdae.

Speaking of the ophthalmologist, Jongin remembered that he now had Kyungsoo’s number saved in his phone. He decided to try and take a stab at asking his ophthalmologist if he had time to meet up tonight. Even though the artist knew Sehun would have been the more obvious option, Jongin didn’t want his best friend to feel guilty about his kind offer basically back-firing on the artist and inciting this dilemma. It wasn’t like Sehun had known that Jongdae’s boss would try to solicit some artwork from Jongin or that Jongdae and Yixing would be so persistent in trying to convince the artist to accept the job. Since Kyungsoo had no prior involvement in this, Jongin felt like he would be a better listener and an even better distraction.

The artist quickly composed a brief text message and sent it off before he could over-think what he was doing. Jongin then tossed his phone to the side, the electronic device lightly bouncing on the mattress, and curled back up into a ball as he tried to focus on anything but Kim Minseok’s commission request and Jongdae’s earlier accusations that Jongin was a spoiled brat who took everything for granted.

To his surprise, the ophthalmologist responded a few minutes later with a Yes. Jongin hadn’t expected to receive an answer so quickly nor had he expected that Kyungsoo would actually agree to meet with him on such short notice. It almost seemed too good to be true.

His phone then beeped again after receiving another message from Kyungsoo, asking if the artist knew where Café Noir was. Jongin’s mood soured even more when he thought about having to see Baekhyun there, especially knowing that the coffee shop owner would most definitely try to flirt with Kyungsoo again. However, at this point, he was desperate enough to grudgingly deal with Baekhyun rather than have to face Jongdae and Yixing once more.

It was a lose-lose situation either way, so the artist decided that Baekhyun was the lesser of two evils and sent back a text message confirming that he did know where Café Noir was located. How ironic it was that Yixing had been the one to show him where the coffee shop was and that it happened to be Jongdae’s favorite, which was the reason why the manager and the artist had even visited it in the first place, and now Jongin was going there to escape the two of them.

The world worked in strange ways.

Kyungsoo responded almost instantly, saying they could meet there to talk.

The artist agreed, saying he was now on his way to the coffee shop. With that, he threw on a thin slate gray jacket and swept his keys into his pants pocket; his wallet was already on him, since he had forgotten to take it out of his pocket earlier.

Just as he was about to leave his bedroom, Jongin paused and screwed his eyes shut, wondering if this would actually solve anything. Confiding in Kyungsoo once didn’t mean the ophthalmologist was suddenly an expert on Jongin’s issues and could solve them in a heartbeat. If the people who had lived with him and known him for years couldn’t understand the artist, then why would a stranger know any better?

Even so, Jongin reasoned with himself that it was better than being stuck here. Even a little bit of advice was better than nothing.

He opened his eyes again and took a deep breath before resolutely opening the door and making his way to Yixing’s bedroom. The manager was sitting at his desk while reading a book, his back facing the doorway. After Jongin loudly rapped his knuckles against the door to get the other male’s attention, Yixing turned in his swivel chair and looked at his friend in surprise, especially since he hadn’t expected Jongin to want to talk to him so soon after their argument.

“What’s up?” the manager cautiously asked as he partially closed his book and rested it against his lap, keeping his right pointed finger nestled between the pages as a quasi-bookmark.

“I’m going to Café Noir to meet…a friend,” Jongin gruffly said. It felt odd to refer to Kyungsoo as his friend, since they had just barely moved past the stage of being acquaintances. But Jongin didn’t want to specify that he was seeking out his ophthalmologist, especially since he realized he had never fully explained to Yixing how or why he had ended up at Kyungsoo’s house several weeks ago.

“Oh, okay.” The manager smiled softly. “Do you need a ride?”

“No,” the artist answered sharply, causing the smile to slide off of Yixing’s face. “I’m just telling you that I’m leaving now, since I don’t want you freaking out like you did last time. And I don’t want you or Jongdae to follow me,” Jongin added with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, I—I wasn’t planning to…” Yixing was slightly taken aback by the sheer amount of venom in the other male’s voice. The manager then lightly nibbled his bottom lip before hesitantly asking, “When will you be back? I’m going to make dinner soon.”

“I don’t know,” was Jongin’s curt response. “Don’t bother waiting for me.” The artist brusquely his heel and shut the door behind him before Yixing could say anything else.

With a deep sigh, the manager stared forlornly at the closed door.

This stung more than it usually did.

--

Kyungsoo was already at the coffee shop, cheerfully chatting with Baekhyun at the counter, by the time Jongin arrived. The artist awkwardly walked up to the two friends and tapped Kyungsoo’s shoulder while trying to ignore the coffee shop owner’s curious gaze.

“Hi, Kyungsoo,” Jongin mumbled when the ophthalmologist turned around.

“Hello, Jongin,” the small male politely greeted, smiling warmly. “Shall we sit down at a table and talk?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Baekhyun pouted from behind the counter. “Kyungsoo, you’re leaving me already? But you just got here!”

“I know, but this is important,” the ophthalmologist said, smiling apologetically. “I’ll visit you during my lunch break tomorrow to make up for it, okay?”

Hot air blew through Baekhyun’s thin lips, causing his puffed up cheeks to slightly deflate as he reluctantly nodded. “I’m holding you to that promise!”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo answered, chuckling lightly. Just as they were about to leave the counter, the ophthalmologist suddenly tugged Jongin’s arm and said, “Wait, I forgot to ask if you wanted something to drink.”

“Oh, uh, it’s really no big deal—”

Baekhyun immediately jumped in, gesturing to the menu that hung overhead. “We have a large selection of coffee, smoothies, and teas for you to choose from! Are you looking for something sweet? Or perhaps something a bit sharper?”

“Er, I guess I’ll have a cup of black coffee…” Jongin honestly didn’t want it, but he knew he would have felt guilty about sitting in the coffee shop if he hadn’t also bought something to drink. “Small, please.”

“I can get that for you in a minute! Wait right there!” The coffee shop owner then dashed to the side to prepare the sugarless drink, his hands flying every which way. And true to his word, it was soon presented to Jongin in a white cup dressed in a black paper sleeve to keep the emanating heat from burning the artist’s hands. “Here you go!”

“Thanks…” Jongin was about to reach for his wallet when the ophthalmologist beat him to it by already having his credit card out. “Wait, Kyungsoo, you don’t need to.”

Confusion was also drawn on Baekhyun’s face as his hand hesitantly hovered over Kyungsoo’s.

“It’s fine,” the ophthalmologist flippantly answered, moving his hand forward to slip the shiny credit card in between his friend’s thin fingers. “It’ll be my treat, since I chose this place.” He motioned for Baekhyun to quickly swipe the card, which the coffee shop owner did. After taking his credit card back, Kyungsoo smiled and said, “Thanks, Baekhyun. Okay, let’s go sit down now, Jongin.”

When they were seated at a table in the northwest corner, somewhat secluded from the other patrons in Café Noir, Jongin softly said, “Thanks for agreeing to see me so last-minute. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I had just finished my last appointment at the eye clinic when you sent me that first text and I didn’t have any other plans lined up this evening,” Kyungsoo explained. He then noticed how the artist had placed the coffee cup to the side, as if he had no intention of drinking any of it. “Is the coffee not to your liking?” the ophthalmologist asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I can ask Baekhyun to make another drink for you, if you’d like.”

“No, it’s not that.” Jongin heaved a deep sigh before saying, “I was just reminded of my older brother’s borderline addiction to coffee and he’s the reason why I’m having such an awful day today.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I honestly don’t even know why I ordered this instead of something else.”

Kyungsoo nodded sympathetically. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, I guess it started when my best friend invited me to visit him at work.” Jongin relayed the day’s events to the ophthalmologist, who nodded along while he attentively listened to the story. As he talked, Jongin realized how he also came off as petty when he had insulted Jongdae earlier, so he visibly winced when he repeated the hurtful words he had said to his older brother. This wasn’t portraying him in good light either and the artist nervously wondered what the brown-haired male was thinking.

Luckily—or unluckily, Jongin wasn’t sure—Kyungsoo didn’t outwardly react, keeping a neutral expression as he continued listening. By the end of the story, the ophthalmologist’s expression had turned into a thoughtful one, but he didn’t seem to be outraged by what either Kim brother had done or said to each other. Instead, he finally commented, “Have you two ever tried to see things from the other’s perspective?”

The artist hesitated for a moment before quietly answering, “I guess not…”

“I don’t know either of you well enough to say whether or not one of you is right, but I think the main problem here stems from the lack of proper communication and understanding between you two.”

“But Jongdae could never understand the struggles I’ve gone through to get to where I am!” Jongin heatedly said, before quickly remembering that Kyungsoo wasn’t the one he should be directing his anger at. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ve been dealing with a frustrating situation today and that’s without factoring the other issues you’ve been plagued with for so long.” The ophthalmologist smiled empathetically.

Jongin felt ashamed at how easily he had let his rage overtake him, especially in the presence of someone so kind and patient. Kyungsoo had no obligation to comfort him or listen to him rant, but he was still willing to lend an ear and try his best to give the artist some helpful advice.

“I am curious about one thing though.”

Jongin nodded, signaling the ophthalmologist to continue.

“Is there another reason why you’re so resolute about refusing to paint something for your older brother’s boss?” Kyungsoo asked, his round eyes blinking owlishly. “I know you mentioned how you don’t feel comfortable painting for others when you aren’t able to paint for yourself first and there’s also the problem regarding your color vision, but is there anything else impacting your decision on this topic?”

The artist rested his chin against his left palm as his gaze automatically traveled to the right, staring out of the window while the sun gradually began to set and the sky darkened. “I… I don’t think so,” he slowly answered after thinking about the question for several minutes. “It’s not like I hate doing commissions. They’re a huge chunk of my income and some of them are pretty fun to paint, to be honest.”

“So there’s nothing wrong with this specific request then. You would reject any commission right now, because of your lost muse and color vision.”

“Yeah, I don’t hate my brother’s boss or anything like that. He seemed like a nice guy when I met him and I really do appreciate my fans, because they’ve helped me reach this point in my career.” A pinched expression appeared on Jongin’s face as he continued saying, “I guess it just bothered me a lot when Jongdae and Yixing were trying to pressure me into agreeing to accept his request, especially since I’m not ready for that. I don’t want to disappoint Jongdae’s boss with something subpar either, since he probably has high expectations of me as a fan.”

“I think if you explain this to your brother and your manager, they’ll understand,” Kyungsoo gently suggested. “Maybe with less vitriol than you used earlier.”

“Maybe…” Jongin sighed again as his gaze traveled down to the untouched coffee cup, which was probably cold by now. “I honestly don’t even feel like Jongdae is my actual older brother. We’ve never been able to bond over anything and every time I try to explain myself, he goes off and misinterprets whatever I say or he tries to argue with me when all I want is for him to understand where I’m coming from. Not to mention, I always felt like I needed to take care of him instead of the other way around. Yixing feels more like my older brother than Jongdae ever has and even then, Yixing doesn’t fully understand what I’m going through either.”

“I see.” Kyungsoo absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the wooden tabletop as he thought about what to say next. Truthfully, he wasn’t very sure what kind of advice to give Jongin, especially since he wasn’t very familiar with the artist. Although he had somewhat gleaned what type of person Jongin was through their interactions, especially the more casual ones outside of the eye clinic, Kyungsoo couldn’t confidently say that he knew exactly what would solve the other male’s problems. After all, the color vision debacle had been giving him a lot of trouble over the past couple of months and that was within Kyungsoo’s professional expertise.

He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but it was hard when he didn’t know what the wrong thing was in the first place.

Seeing the ophthalmologist pause for so long, Jongin sent him a lopsided smile and said, “It’s okay if you don’t know how to fix this. I wasn’t expecting you to solve my problems for me. I mostly wanted someone to talk to about this so that I didn’t bottle up everything like I did before. It was kind of therapeutic telling you my feelings last time, so I hope you don’t mind that I wanted to do this again.”

“I don’t mind at all. Although I will say I’m a bit surprised that you thought of me,” Kyungsoo admitted with a sheepish grin.

“I…don’t have many friends, to be honest.” Jongin hung his head, feeling the tips of his ears burn behind his hair. God, saying that out loud made him sound like a loser.

“Ah, in that case, feel free to ask me if you ever need someone to talk in the future,” the ophthalmologist affably offered. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll always have time to spontaneously meet up like I did today, but I’ll do my best to carve out some time for you in my schedule.” He grinned widely, which caused a wave of relief to wash over Jongin.

It was nice to know that someone was willing to listen to him without judgment.

It was nice to have a support system, unconventional as it was that this support system happened to be his ophthalmologist.

It was nice to spend time like this, completely stress-free.

No expectations. No pressure.

Just Jongin being himself.

♈♈♈