My life’s pretty bleak, not in a bad way though. It’s just there, filled with what humans should do to live, what they should do to survive, and what they should do to stay sane. I keep my hands busy during the day and walk off at night with things to do, sleep with plans in my head, and wake up to an appointed schedule. It’s all part of a very structured life plan that I, unfortunately, must succumb to.

I adjust my bowtie and check myself one last time in the mirror, but all I see is a strange figure staring dully at me with his void eyes. He blinks when I blink and tilts his head when I do so. He’s copying my every move, yet strangely enough, I can’t recognize him.

“Mr. Kwon” my manager, standing firmly behind me, stares at my reflection as he calls out my name.

“Namgook”

“Yes, Mr. Kwon?”

“Do you know who this guy is?” I point at my reflection in the mirror and he smiles.

“That’s you sir, Mr. Kwon Jiyong, the youngest and wealthiest Graphic designer in South Korea. He was featured in FORBES 30 under 30 2016 and is currently holding an art gallery in collaboration with various artists, which reminds me sir, we must get going” I smile at his introduction of the young man and shake my head in disbelief.

It’s funny how people can recognize me so easily yet I struggle hard to do that.

“you’re right, that’s me, Kwon Jiyong” I say flimsily while staring at my reflection again.

I wonder when my mirror will reflect who I truly am.

“let’s go” I order as I exit the building, with Namgook trailing behind.

The grand opening of the new art gallery is set in thirty minutes, the press is already gathered outside, some of them are shivering in cold, while others are chatting tediously to kick away the fatigue of waiting.

I go through a last check up in the mirror before the chauffer opens the car door for me. As I set my foot on the red carpet, camera flashes immediately blind my view, with journalists questioning me from here and there. I smile professionally and refrain from answering any questions.

I make eye contact with my fellow workmates as I walk towards them with a polite smile.

The gallery is a collaboration between four main artists:

Lee Minjae, a successful painter in his early thirties who’s been active for over 10 years now.

Park Dami, she was an editor at VOGUE magazine, but due to some personal circumstances, she quit and remained jobless for 3 years until she decided to get back into business, so she started her own clothing brand with the help of some old friends who owned an ancient factory, and ever since, her works have garnered attention due to her peculiar designs. Now, she’s one of the biggest fashion designers in South Korea.

 Chihiro miyazaki, niece of Hayao Miyazaki, founder of the famous Studio Ghibli. She’s a pro photographer who shot to fame instantly when she opened her own studio, mainly because of her uncle’s popularity in the film world and partly because she’s talented.

And lastly, there’s me.

The gallery is the first of its kind to display a variety of artistic aspects under one roof, which explains the overwhelming amount of journalists, critics and spectators gathered outside.

“Mr. Kwon, you look nice” Minjae comments as soon as he sees me.

“You look nice yourself, and please, call me Jiyong. we’re not strangers anymore, we do share the same gallery” he chuckles and nods.

“Don’t leave us out you two!” Dami scolds us both as she fixes the collar of her blouse.

“Let them be Miss Dami, they’re still young to know of our worth”  Chihiro playfully interjects with a mischievous smile.

“ yeah, sure Chihiro,keep telling yourself that” Minjae rolls his eyes and she slaps his arm in response.

I forgot to mention that those two are actually engaged, which was a shock to me, considering how they’ve only known each other for five months.

I guess for some people Love can appear that easily.

-« Shall we go now? » I ask and they all nod in response. Minjae and Chihiro walk together with their hands interlaced. Miss Dami gently holds my arm,as I her to the gallery’s entrance.

After a few words from each of the collaborators and a final speech from the director, the gallery has officially been inaugurated.

The VIPs come in first as appointed docents start touring them around, followed by a throng of journalists who’ve already managed to bombard the four of us with unoriginal clichéd questions, and so, we offer them exactly what they want: unoriginal clichéd answers.

I roam my eyes around the multiple exhibits, until they fall upon a certain colorful painting hanging carefully at the far end of the room. With steady steps, I make my way towards it, until it’s clear and vivid in front of me, imprisoned in a rather small canvas.

A girl, with ravishing iridescent locks, perfectly arched eyebrows, gleaming caramel eyes and luscious red lips, is gently smiling while holding crocus flowers in her hand.

I wonder if Minjae got overly excited when he painted this because the usage of diversified pastel colors in it is staggering.

She’s staring so earnestly at me that her eyes are starting to show pity.

Pity for what? I don’t know, I stare back intensely at her, hoping to find fault in what I thought, but her eyes still depict the same sentiment of empathy.

-“Mr. Kwon, journalists are asking you for an exclusive interview” my manager, Namgook, startles me with his sudden appearance and I cough to hide my shock.

“How’s my schedule tomorrow?”

“It’s very packed sir, we still haven’t reached a compromise with the investors yet, but there is some free time around 3pm till 4:15” I nod in understanding

“Alright then, I’ll accept only one interview, tomorrow, in my office, 3 pm sharp, I’ll leave it in your care” he bows and I pat his shoulder.

I look back again at the painted girl, her gaze strangely stronger than before.

I lower my eyes to catch the name of the painting; it simply says ‘Dreamcatcher’.

The next day is a ruckus.

I wake up to a hefty schedule, full of appointments, meetings and TV/radio shows.

By the time I finish the morning assignments, it has already surpassed 3 pm.

I hurry back to my office, but not before fixing my messy attire. Namgook suggests that I take a break but I refuse. It’ll only be a waste of time , moreover, I still have an interview waiting for me.

-“Mr. Kwon, the journalist is waiting inside” my secretary informs me and I thank her. I enter casually and at the sound of my footsteps, the lean petite female journalist turns around and abruptly stands up with a smile.

As soon as our gazes meet, my breath gets caught in my throat. Maybe my eyes are deceiving me, but I could swear she resembles the girl in the ‘Dreamcatcher’ painting yesterday, minus the colors.

The honeyed eyes, the center part hairstyle, the celestial nose, the pointy lips, everything is the same, and I can’t say if that’s fascinating or scary.

She smiles and bows at me. I bow back and take my seat.

“Hello Mr. Kwon, my name’s Sandara Park, I’m a freelance journalist, so I don’t work under any specific company, which is why, today, I came as a representative of various art magazines” I pay no attention to her introduction as she brings out her pen and notepad and starts reading the questions noted.

“I know that your schedule is tight, but I promise I won’t take much of your time, so without further ado, let’s start with the first question. Mr. Kwon, what inspired you to be a graphic designer?” She asks with a professional monotonous tone and I smile knowingly. How many times in my career have I heard that question? I lost count at 15, and that was two years ago.

So I answer back with the same tone and the same answer that I’ve been giving to the magazines for quite a time now.

The interview goes on with a couple of more questions, and as usual, I keep my answers as platonic as possible.

“Last question Mr. Kwon, what are your personal thoughts on your own work?”

“I don’t want to sound boastful or anything, but I feel like my designs are easy to comprehend and take in because of their simplicity and efficiency in highlighting the focal points. I designed a lot of magazine covers, including the ones you’re currently working for, and till this day, they are still very loyal clients of mine” She nods while scribbling in her notepad.

I check my watch and sigh in relief when I notice that I still have time before my next appointment. I call one of the security guards to the journalist and as I’m about to get up, she starts talking

“If you wear a mask, you could never be happy” I freeze in my spot and slowly lift my gaze to look at her.

She smiles aloofly and slowly lays her notepad down on my desk.

“But if you don’t wear a mask, you could never survive” I lean on the back of my chair, baffled by her uninspected words

“What does that mean?” her sharp eyes contrast with her soft features as she gawks fiercely at me.

“There’s a reason why companies specifically hire me Mr. Kwon, I have that journalist intuitive where I can easily catch on things. And I know for a fact that what you’ve just said, is yet one of your many attempts to mask your true feelings, because, as you and I both have noticed, you didn’t exactly answer my question, so let me ask you again Mr. Kwon, what do you genuinely feel when you look at your work?”

She’s testing me. I know her type; journalists like her would go to the extreme just to fish for information. She’s trying to intimidate me, I can see it in her eyes, but I’m not going down with that.

“I’ve already said what I have to say about my designs. I’m satisfied as long as my clients are happy” I smile attentively, relieved that I dodged the question, but she frowns and lets out a loud sigh.

-“I’ll be very honest with you Mr. Kwon. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time now, your ingenuous artistic conception of things and your representation of them have really impressed me, so I thought to myself ‘wow, finally, someone with a sense of individualism in his arts’, and I was genuinely happy when you shot to fame because you deserve it. Your arts deserve to be well-known on an international level, but that was the changing point of everything. You grew distant; your designs became a replica of your old works, you even strayed from graphic designs to pursue contemporary art in hopes of ‘expanding your specialty realm’ as you’ve mentioned before in one of your interviews. You’ve changed Mr. Kwon, even now, as I’m looking deep into your eyes, I can’t recognize you. You’re not Kwon Jiyong anymore, you’re just.. Mr. Kwon” She sighs again and collects her notepad from the desk.

“Thanks for your precious time Mr. Kwon and I hope you have a lovely evening” she bows and walks away towards the exit, where the security guard is waiting, but when she reaches the door, she stops and smiles

“I’m still a huge fan of Kwon Jiyong, so if he’s willing to come back again, I’ll gladly support him” I stare hollowly at the open door of my office, still trying to absorb what she just said.

‘You’re not Kwon Jiyong anymore, you’re just..Mr. Kwon’

I know that. I know I’m not Kwon Jiyong, I know my designs are insipid, I know my words are insincere and cunning, I know my self-esteem has sunk to rock bottom, and I know I’m not happy.

I know every little flaw in me and I deliberately chose to live with them, but when a stranger comes into your life and easily pinpoints them like he’s been through the same things, you get hurt, and it’s funny because you know he’s right, but the words just don’t sound the same when someone else voices them.

Why did she say that? How did she notice? And why are her words deeply cutting through my already wrenched heart right now?

Namgook comes in and briefly notifies me about my appointment.

I rest my head on the table, the depth of her words finally sinking in

“Namgook”

“Yes, sir?”

“Who am I?”

“You’re Kwon Jiyong, sir”

I smile tiredly at his obvious response.

“I hate to disappoint you Namgook, but I’m not Kwon Jiyong aymore, I’m just..Mr. Kwon”

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A.N:First Part is up! I wanted to make it a oneshot at first but then thought, I'll just devide it to parts so the readers won't get tired xD

All the characters are fictional EXCEPT for Lee Minjae, he's a real artist, and the painting is also real (it's the chapter picture)

here's his facebook page to entertain your eyes with his magical works: Lee Minjae

I've reread the chapter twice but if you notice any grammar/typo mistakes, please notify me. 

Also, a big Thank you to all the lovely people (Daragon shippers, I see you xD) who subscribed to this story! I hope you enjoy it ^^