It started, innocently enough, with an email sent to her art collective’s shared email account.

Wheein had been on a self-imposed break, casually flipping through the other artists’ accounts she followed on Instagram when Oh Min suddenly began laughing and cheering in front of his laptop, drawing the attention of the other artists.

She was already aiming her phone in that direction, intent on capturing the hilarity when Oh Min gestured toward her.

“Wheein-ah, you did it! You really did it!” The other collective members were already crowding around Oh Min’s laptop. Some of them cheering, others looking at her and offering their congratulations. 

Wheein put her phone down and walked over. “What is everyone talking about?” She hadn’t even crossed halfway before Heyne was already barrelling into her, squeezing her in a tight hug.

“I will clear my schedule for you Wheein! I’ll be there every single day I promise!”

She looked at her friend, shocked and still more than a little confused. Finally, Oh Min took pity on her because he cleared his throat and began reading from whatever was on his laptop screen.

“One of our curators at  Project Space SARUBIA was deeply impressed by the work of one of your artists, Jung Wheein, at your group’s gallery exhibit last month. Her art and style resonates with the type of art we would love to promote at our gallery, which is why we are extending an invitation for Jung Wheein-ssi to have a solo exhibit at our gallery early in the third quarter.”

Oh Min was reading more but Wheein already couldn’t hear him past her heart jackhammering around her ribcage and the thoughts racing through her mind. Before she could help it, she let out a high pitched squeal and began jumping around. First she returned Heyne’s hug tenfold, before turning to the other artists in their collective, screaming and laughing in excitement with everyone. There were tears in her eyes threatening to brim over but she hardly cared, she was too happy.

This was the first time she’d ever been contacted to do a solo exhibit before, to be able to tell her own story through just her works instead of always working around several other pieces from her fellow artists. Just the planning alone was starting to make her head spin, so much so that she hadn’t even realized her other friends were talking to her until Heyne had snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Wheein!”

“I got so excited I blanked out!” Wheein laughed, walking over to where Oh Min’s laptop was so she could read the email for herself. Heyne repeated herself, “I said, how excited are you for this?”

Wheein hummed, eyes going over the email. It had a number and return email for her to contact should she choose to accept the invitation, also an attached PDF file that had gallery parameters and other required information she would need moving forward. There would be a scheduled briefing between her and the curator at her earliest convenience to discuss the gallery’s existing planned themes and two months before the exhibit she was required to send in photos or scans of the pieces that would be on display for the gallery to use in promoting her exhibit.

It was a lot to take in. Already she didn’t know where to start, so instead she forwarded the email to her personal account. 

“The exhibit is a little over six months away, and I still don't know what their theme would be, but either way, they would probably be expecting all new pieces wouldn’t they?” She asked aloud to the room in general.

Oh Min gathered her up in a warm, one-armed hug, “Nothing our Wheein-ah can’t handle!” She laughed, still caught up in the excitement of it all, and gamely announced that she was treating everyone to lunch, much to the cheers of the rest of her collective.

It is much, much later, back in the quiet of her apartment, with nothing but her own thoughts and a second email from SARUBIA’s curator inviting her over for a meeting the day after tomorrow that the doubts start creeping in. Taking up space in her mind. 

What had she been thinking? How could she possibly fill up an entire gallery space all by herself, and without the rest of her collective? Even if she had six months, she wasn’t sure that she could manage the magnitude of such a project. And who would even go to see her art if she managed to finish everything on time? The doubt went hand in hand with the sour taste of frustration, clinging like bile in .

Out of sheer reflex, she ended up chucking her phone, halfway across the room. The sudden yelp that followed it however, was unexpected. Wheein sat up just in time to see Byulyi ducking by their hyeon gwan, features schooled into part shock, part glare.

“That’s some welcome you have for me,” the demon said, bending to pick up Wheein’s phone, which, by some miracle, was still in one piece, although the glint of the dining area’s light against the screen reflected a new crack just by the corner. Byul had all her camera bags with her, which meant she must have just come home from a job.

“Sorry,” Wheein mumbled, flopping back down on the sofa and grabbing one of the pillows to cover her face with. For a while, all she could hear was the sound of Byul putting down all her bags, until finally she felt the demon nudge at her legs, an unspoken way of asking her to make room on the couch. Wheein hiked up her knees, waited for the tell-tale feel of the sofa giving way under a new person before placing her feet roughly where she guessed Byul’s lap would be.

The demon just patted at her shins. “You wanna talk about it?”

“SARUBIA invited me to have a solo exhibit at their gallery six months from now,” Wheein said, pillow still over her face, so she wasn’t quite sure how much of that Byul understood. Still, she felt fingers grip a bit tighter at the tops of her feet.

“Wheein! That’s amazing, congratulations!” Byul sounded excited, which only made her feel just a little bit more insecure.

“Thanks.” 

“Oh? Are you not happy about this?”

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Wheein said in a deadpan, finally moving the pillow to look Byul dead in the eye. The demon returned the stare for a solid three seconds before cracking, breaking out into chuckles.

“I can certainly see that.”

“Unnie,” Wheein let the word drag out for three extra syllables, “what have I gotten myself into? I can’t do this! How am I supposed to fill up an entire gallery with new works by myself in six months? Who would even--aaugh!”

She yelped and jerked her legs away, rubbing at the spot on her calf where Byul had pinched her hard. “Yah! What was that for?”

“You!” The demon said, reproachful, “What’s with the self doubt huh? Didn’t you come all the way to Seoul to pursue art? Don’t back out on it now that it’s so close!”

Wheein gaped at her for a few moments. Whatever she thought Byul would have said, it certainly wasn't that. She stared up at the ceiling for a while, feeling drained and so very tired at all the emotions her body had to process in the span of just a few hours.

“I know you’re right, but it’s just--”

“Look,” Byul cut in, her tone turning gentle and kind, “just because it’s your first solo exhibit doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself, right? You have your artist friends to lean on and you have us too.”

Wheein sighed, purposefully pushing all the worries to the back of her mind. “Thank you, Unnie.”

Byul smirked, patting at her legs before nudging them to the side so she could reach for her laptop bag. “What are Unnies for, right?”

They sat there for a while, Byul humming to herself every now and then as she selected photos from the shoot to send to the editor while Wheein tried to calm the frayed edges of her nerves. She thought about the empty canvases back at the studio, trying to picture what she could fill them with, what theme she could work around. 

It felt like all her mind could come up with was white noise and static. 

“Augh, I hate my brain,” Wheein said as she sat up, scratching at the back of her neck in frustration. From the corner of her eye, she caught some of the pictures on Byul’s laptop. 

The layouts were lovely and dynamic; that Byul could take a woman, dressed from head to toe in clothes that probably cost more than anything Wheein owned, standing in the middle of the diagonal crosswalk in the Geumcheon District and still take excellent pictures made Wheein more than a little jealous. Even with the press of humanity behind and around her Byul still managed to line everything up for the perfect shot. Ones where it looked like everyone had stopped moving except for the model. Ones where the model was set in hyperfocus while everything around her was a blurry mess of color and movement.

One picture in particular, had Wheein sitting up and inching closer so she could rest her chin on Byul’s shoulder. It was probably taken in between shots, because Wheein could see hands retouching the woman’s makeup and clothes. The reason it piqued her interest though, was that Byul had framed the shot in such a way was that the woman was smiling at someone off-camera, the sunlight coming it at just the right moment to paint her in a burnished glow that rendered even the streets and the passersby around her as nothing but streaks of color and light. Almost like a painting.

“That’s a nice shot,” Wheein said. Beside her, Byul shrugged but her smile was proud. “The model’s husband and daughter arrived from school at that moment. Her expression looked nice so I decided to capture it. Maybe send it to her as a thank you gift for today.” Byul said, already flicking past to more styled shots.

Wheein’s mind was racing anew though, she gripped at Byul’s arm. “Unnie. I’ve got it.”

Byul looked at her, head tilted, “What?”

“Do the exhibit with me!”

Byul closed her laptop turning to face Wheein properly, “What’s gotten into your head now?”

“I’m totally serious!” Wheein insisted, reaching over Byul and opening her laptop, swiping through her trackpad until she reached the candid photo again. “Photos like this, with my paintings!”

“You mean, mixed media? That’s not really your style is it?”

“No I mean, your photos with my paintings! Real life side by side with traditional art, both of them complementing each other. Most of the work would still be coming from me, but your photos would segue into the emotion of what my paintings would tell.”

Wheein could tell Byul was considering it, eyes darting from her own photo to Wheein’s probably manic expression. “When is this exhibit again?”

“Six months from now.”

“And you’ll be needing all new photos from me?”

“Yeah!”

“Is that all?”

“Well,” Wheein widened her eyes, knowing she was exploiting Byul’s weakness for her puppy dog eyes and not caring a single bit. “It would be nice if you came to the meeting with the curator on Thursday, and also accompany me to the studio every now and then to see the progress of my paintings so you can work your photos around them.”

Byul blinked at her for a few beats, “You’re totally serious aren’t you?”

“Totally! Unnie you would be helping me out so much, Please, please, please agree to do this!” Wheein wasn’t above begging.

Beside her, Byul let out a sound that was halfway between laughter and a sigh of resignation. “Only for you, Wheein!”

She let out a squeal, immediately diving to give Byul a hug around her midsection, and if, in her flurry of excitement, her tail sprouted past the seam in her sweatpants wagging incessantly, Wheein was too elated to notice it. 

The meeting with the curator went pretty much as Wheein had expected. In between exhibits, SARUBIA was nothing but blank wall space and winding corridors, each one leading to more rooms and halls. 

The curator seemed all too excited to hear Wheein’s exhibit ideas, and it helped that Byul already had a rising name for herself as a magazine photographer. As it turned out, the gallery’s theme for the third quarter was Art in Humanity, which was so perfect that Wheein slipped Byul a high-five while they followed the curator to SARUBIA’s offices to sign a few contracts.

In the succeeding months, Wheein felt as if her whole world revolved around painting and sleeping. Occasionally, Heyne or Oh Min would pull her out of a five hour painting streak to remind her to eat, or if she took some of the work home with her, one of her roommates would constantly knock on her door, reminding her to hydrate or rest. Once she hit the three month mark she was running on fumes and had nearly taken a sip out of her paintbrush water cup more times than she cared to admit.

“Why did I agree to this again?” Wheein groaned, stretching out the cramp in her hand. It was almost three in the morning and she was still at her collective’s studio. Byul had dropped by a few hours ago with two boxes of pizza and beer and had elected to stay with Wheein until she finished up for the night.

“Because art is your passion, and this exhibit is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” The demon replied, almost mechanically. After the first two hours of watching Wheein paint and asking her about the reasoning behind her last five completed paintings, Byul had relegated herself to one of the reclining chairs in the studio and had spent the next five hours either napping or playing games on her phone.

“You should really go home, Unnie.” Wheein said, for the umpteenth time that evening, tucking a still wet brush behind her ear so that she could dip one of the rollers in paint and create a few streaks across the canvas.

“I waited this long, might as well see it through to the end.”

Wheein sighed. Dropping the roller at her feet and stepping back to take in the painting. It was one of the larger ones she’d made, essentially a centerpiece to the entire exhibit. She hated every inch of it.

“Why can’t the art in my head just appear on the canvas?” She said, half tempted to pull at her hair, “It feels like nothing I’m making is good anymore!”

“That’s just the lack of sleep talking.” Byul said, standing up to walk over and stand with Wheein. The canvas towered over both of them, done in bright splashes of mauve and lavender, white and red splattered here and there. “Besides, I’m taking the photos for this later this month already, and it’s going to look great with your paintings.”

“You have to say that because you’re my friend.” Wheein tossed the paintbrush aside and took off her apron, “I just feel like, It’s still missing that emotion I’m trying to portray, and I don’t know how else to improve on it without making it worse.”

Byul tilted her head the other way, looking at the painting, “The ‘Humanity’ part you mean?” the demon asked, the air quotes were implied. 

“Yes,” Wheein sighed, stooping down to pick up her bag. “Come on, let’s go home. I’ll just sort this out later on.” She was halfway out the door when she realized Byul was still staring at the painting. “Unnie, let’s go before I pass out on this floor!”

The demon was silent throughout the entire cab ride back to their apartment and Wheein couldn’t help but feel more than a little guilty. When they had finally reached Room 1031, Wheein cracked.

“I’m sorry!” She said, her voice loud in the deep night. Byul turned around to look at her, shocked. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For dragging you into this with me,” Wheein hung her head, “I thought my ideas were good but the exhibit is three months away and I feel like some kind of fraud that tricked everyone. I just--”

There was a lump in and tears in her eyes, she knew if she said any more it would all come spilling out. Instead, Wheein bit at her bottom lip and just took a few shaky breaths in and out, in and out. Her eyes were still trained to the floor, on the paint splattered on her converse, so she hadn’t realized Byul was approaching until she felt the demon envelop her into a warm hug.

“You’re not a fraud Wheein, and you should know, I never agree to anything unless I really want to do it.” Byul’s tone was soft and gentle as she rubbed calming circles against her back. “What did I tell you, at the start of all this?”

Wheein had her eyes clenched tight, her face pressed against Byul’s shoulder. She shrugged.

“I said, you don’t have to go into this alone. I’m here aren’t I?” Wheein nodded, “Do you think I would spend all this time planning and preparing for a vision I dont believe in? Your ideas are good Wheein-ah, so there’s no need to run yourself rugged over one exhibit. Trust me okay? Just keep doing your best and my photos will pick up the slack. That’s how collaborations work right?”

She had calmed down enough to nod again, although her face still felt hot and puffy from the crying. Wheein let the demon steer her from the shared bathroom to change out of her paint splattered clothes to her bedroom, accepting the glass of water that was in her hands.

“Go to sleep,” Byul said, ruffling up her hair, “Don’t wake up until midday tomorrow so I know you’ve gotten all the rest you need.” 

A few weeks after her brief meltdown, with just a little over two months left until the exhibit, Wheein got a text from Byul. It was short and simple, asking her to block her schedule for the next day and to meet her at the enclosed address. She stepped away from a new, mostly blank canvas and hit the call button.

Byul picked up after the first ring.

“Did you get my text?” Her roommate’s voice sounded tinny on the other end, marred by static.

“Is this for the exhibit? I trust you Unnie, I don’t think you need me there micromanaging you for it.”

“Just come, please! Consider it part of my artistic process!” Byul hung up after that, so Wheein stuffed her phone back into her pocket, trying to get back into the zone of the new painting she was starting.

The next day, she arrived at the address Byul had texted her after dropping by at home for a quick shower. The last thing she wanted was for Byul’s models to see her covered in paint and looking like the very definition of a starving artist. Conveniently enough, the time Byul texted was nighttime, so Wheein managed to finish two more paintings that day. 

When she entered the rented studio space, she was more than a little intimidated. There were light fixtures everywhere, and music blaring so loud through the speakers that it hurt her wolf ears. A few of the studio staff were moving every which way, adjusting cables and bulbs. To one side was a cluster of chairs where a few makeup artists sat waiting, and in the center of it all was Moon Byulyi, reading something off a clipboard while a familiar figure walked over to hand her a bottle of water.

“Oh!” Wheein exclaimed, walking over, “what are you doing here?”

Byul and Hyejin looked up at the sound of her voice. The demon beckoned her over. “Right on time! You can get your makeup done over there, Yong and Hyejin are already done.”

As if on cue, Yongsun emerged from a side door, adjusting a white blouse around her neck and calling out to Byul, “This is the third time I’ve changed so this better be good!”

“Makeup? Why-- Unnie what is this?” 

Byul only smirked, “The final piece for my part of the exhibit. I thought it should feature some of my favorite people in the world.”

“Depends on your definition of ‘people’,” Hyejin remarked wryly, giving Wheein a cheeky grin and gently ushering her to the makeup chairs. 

Wheein still floundered about helplessly, until she saw a large plain white canvas and random cans of paint and brushes on the floor. 

“You’re going to take a photo of us? Painting?” She asked, finally submitting to the finicky hands of a makeup artist as Byul approached. 

“Yeah! I took other photos with strangers, don’t worry, just like to the one you liked months ago. But I think this one will tie-in with that large one you were finishing. It can lead off to the side so that it will be the first thing people see and it can be sort of like a family picture, you know?”

Wheein stared at Byul, at the large empty canvas behind her, and finally at Yong and Hyejin just to the side already eagerly looking at the cans of paint. For the first time in what felt like months, she smiled, “You’re right. I think that’s perfect.”

With the cameras trained at them and going off intermittently, Wheein finally felt the last of her worries about the exhibit fall away beneath the swipes of her brush. Something that came as a bit of a shock since she’d never had her photo professionally taken before. 

Around her, her roommates were laughing, painting smiley faces or smudging handprints on the canvas while they worked. Once Hyejin splattered a paintbrush dipped in yellow at Byul though, all bets were off, and the whole thing descended into a mini paint fight that left them all covered in a multitude of colors but otherwise laughing and happy.

When Byul went to check the photos later on, she gave Wheein a wink and a thumbs up. But the only thing Wheein had eyes for was the paint splattered mess they had created together. The moment Byul came to stand beside her, she knew the demon already knew what she wanted to say, so instead she gave Byul a quick hug, arms squeezing around the demon’s middle. “You’re the best, Unnie!”

Byul laughed, wrapping an arm around her and planting a kiss at the top of her head, “And don’t you forget it!”

On the day of the exhibit, Wheein felt strung out and excited all at once. It was safe to say, the SARUBIA curator was over the moon, grinning from ear to ear as he ushered Wheein to meet with critic after critic, each having nothing but positive things to say. It was all she could do to keep from crying. With every grateful bow she took, the feelings of relief and sheer joy seemed to only multiply inside her. 

Everywhere Wheein turmed, there were members of her collective mingling with strangers and critics. Jimin had messaged the week before, promising to bring the entire pack and Wheein’s mother along with her to see the exhibit within the two week stretch that it would be up.

The months it had taken to get to this moment. Wheein hardly cared that she was running on only two hours of sleep the night before, having stayed up way past Byul did, arranging and rearranging each piece until the flow of it was just right. Photos blending seamlessly into paintings, all of it coming together to tell the story of ordinary people, and the bright colors they bring into the world.

And at the very end of SARUBIA’s winding hallways, the series that earned the highest praise of the evening were photos that showed four supernatural creatures, making a mess and enjoying each other’s company. All leading up to a wide canvas that was a mish mash of paint splashes, hand prints, and happy memories. Any chance she could get away, Wheein walked over there every time, barely containing the smile on her face.

Once the crowd had thinned out, and after the SARUBIA curator had congratulated her for the hundredth time that day, she walked there again, laughing when she saw a demon, an angel, and a vampire, standing in front of the giant canvas and the mess they had made.

Wheein purposely strode over to Byul’s side, hooking their arms together. “Congratulations on your big break,” she teased. Byul laughed pulling her in a little tighter.

“This is seriously so amazing!” Yong said, looking around at the full gallery with all of Wheein’s art and Byul’s pictures, at the patrons and critics still mulling about. “Wheein-ah, you’re amazing!”

“Totally,” Hyejin agreed, smiling at one of the pictures of all four them together, covered in paint and laughing. “Also I want to buy this for the house.”

“By all means,” Wheein said, with a grand wave of her arm, “for every art sold, I get 90% of the profit you know.”

Her roomates broke into laughter and in the glow of their happiness Wheein realized that Byul had been right. She didn’t do any of this alone.