┈ ♡ ┈

Gathering up the paint tools I could find resting on the old wooden cupboard, I placed them one by one on the ground and on the table, just any place near the tripod and the chair where I would finally sit on after being on semi-hiatus.

I plugged the cassette and inserted the CD I just bought from a local store down the road. Pressing the play button, the speakers released a beautiful sound of a song I came to love ever since I was ten. This setup felt odd to me, since this would be my first time attempting to paint again after God knows how long, and I would try doing it with background music.

So instead of trying to focus at the piece with silence, there would be noise around me. Nevertheless, she does the same though; whenever I see her, there was always music accompanying her. What’s wrong with trying?

The chair felt cold on my skin as I sat on it, perhaps because of not visiting the workplace for quite a long time already. I tied my apron and picked up a thick flat brush. Closing my eyes, I began to take myself to another world, where series of flowers, blossoms, music, and a girl were welcoming my sight.

I sighed and smiled; damping the brush on the paint can, I began to spread the liquid on the cloth-like canvas in front of me. A few here and there, the vision slowly translated into a hard copy, a painting, an artwork.

A few hours after I started working, a work of abstract has been made. I stared at it for a while, with a contented smile on my face. I added the clear coat once the paint dries, to secure it from chipping. My mother called me for dinner after.

Just like that, I have finished another addition to my works.

All thanks to her.

┈ ♡ ┈

Placing the bouquet of daisies on the marble tomb, I took the space beside my father; the freshly trimmed grass was perfect, the keeper did a good job.

The surroundings was quiet. The birds are flying freely, flapping their wings, chirping sweet melodies. The clouds have hidden the sun, making the setting a bit dimmer than it should be since its two hours after noon. A warm breeze engulfed the vicinity. It was overall calm. Serene, just like what a cemetery should be.

“Dad,” I began to trail off, playing with my fingers and staring at the clear clouds. It was relatively cloudy today; the forecast was accurate. “How are you? Is it warm there? We’re halfway done with summer, I could almost see some trees turning gold. You should’ve seen it, it’s always cool.”

There was another whip of the wind; I chuckled and touched the white daisies I had laid on top of my father’s tomb. It’s his favorite, he and my mom. I was almost named Daisy if I ever turned out to be a girl, which luckily I haven’t.

“Dad, I finally got what you mean. The feeling was euphoric,” I smiled as I remembered what I had gone through before something finally sprung out of my imagination. “You’re right. I should only paint what I feel, not what others wanted to think-” I was cut halfway through my talking with a solemn whistle of the wind; I sneered at what might be my father’s response.

“Oh of course, I know you’re always right.”

┈ ♡ ┈

 “I see... you’re inspired.”

A voice echoed around the completely quiet room, I was surprised to see Jiwon behind me, his little eyes forming crescents, lips grinning widely as he used to when he teases me. I almost cursed aloud and he guffawed, rolling on my bed like it’s his.

“What the heck- you startled me!”

“I’m not sorry, I’ve been inside your room for a good few minutes already and you haven’t even recognized my presence! Well not until I realized what you’re doing or rather what you’re looking at.”

Jiwon’s eyes shifted to the rectangular window, where he saw her, with her brown locks falling beautifully on her chest; the wind constantly blowing it, making her look like she’s shooting a commercial video. He nodded slowly, and looked at me with intriguing eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just checking you out. Summer’s nearly over so I’m about to go back to Seoul. I’m very sad that you won’t even miss me,” Jiwon playfully frowned, acting like he was hurt. I threw a pillow at him making him stand up and leave the room.

However, before he did, he turned back again and I looked at him with curiousness. He grinned.

“What now?”

“By the way, uncle said the exhibit will be on late fall. Go make disciples, lover boy. Adios!”

┈ ♡ ┈

There was this moment in my life when I almost felt my heart come out from my chest.

I woke up from a sweet slumber and just like the usual, I took my time to gaze at the beauty in front of me. She was looking good, goddess-like, I must say. She was humming what it seemed like a familiar song to me. Her hair now brushed up with a floral headband, her beloved guitar on her lap, strumming chords I don’t even know. How would I know, I’m not a musician nor inclined to music.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I forgot the time whenever I pay my attention to her. It’s like having a rocket trip to the moon, fast and stomach churning.

Suddenly, oh so suddenly, she decided to spare a glance at my direction. I felt the heat of her eyes as I struggle to get out of her field of vision. I don’t want her to see me. She would think I’m a ert.

I ducked below my window and I almost fall face first on the floor. I clenched my jaw and patted my chest, I was panting like I’ve ran a ten kilometer marathon.

I stayed on that position for a minute longer and peeked to check if she was still looking at my window. Has she seen me already? Would she be mad? Will she stop sitting at the porch every morning because there’s a weird looking boy staring at her every time she does?

I asked myself those questions the whole day. I haven’t even gotten a good sleep that night (not even a tiny bit of nap!).

┈ ♡ ┈

Weeks passed by like lightning.  It was only the beginning of summer, when I first saw her, and now autumn leaves have begun to fall, just as I am with her. Slowly, gently, I did not realize it, or perhaps I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

I had already finished three more additions to my exhibit. I have been productive; it was as if everyday there’s this lingering idea, imagination, picture inside my head that my hands are itching to make it alive, to translate it into an artwork. Normally I spent one or two hours inside my father’s workroom but now I almost planned to live there. The patterns, the flow, everything has been ringing within me and I just feel so happy about it. It doesn’t tire me at all.

Moreover, the music, yes the freaking background music. I thought it was a stupid idea but I couldn’t believe it myself, it indeed helped. It kept me into the rhythm; it stirred my soul to ignite something.

Unexpectedly, though not accidentally, she has become my muse. She made me paint again, without her knowledge.

┈ ♡ ┈

One morning, she wasn’t there.

My droopy eyes opened as wide as it can as I noticed that my normal beautiful view next door wasn’t there. It’s the first time she hasn’t gone outside her veranda, and it ticked something inside of me. All throughout the day, I am unfocused. She was like a happy pill, the one who always makes my day complete; just by looking at her, my heart flutters and creativity flows through my veins.

But she’s not here.

Fidgeting on a rusty swivel chair, I pressed an exasperated sigh and ruffled my hair. I stood up and changed my top; I decided to look for her around the town, as if she would be there. It was a completely idiotic thought but I have no choice. Lacing up my sneakers, I locked the door and walked towards the city, praying to the heavens that I’ll be able to find her. The reason why I want to... was still unknown to me.

Passing by numbers of stalls, restaurants, boutiques, of any kind, my eyes roamed around the whole vicinity, I was already at the heart of our village but there were still no signs of her. I settled on a concrete bench facing a shut medium-sized fountain, perhaps the management was saving electricity.

I tilted my chin up and looked at the sky, it was afternoon, the colors were a mixture of magenta, violet, and orange, there were no clouds at all, just a few birds flying here and there, and I was just lucky enough to receive a present from one.

“Ah ,” I cussed as I felt a hot sticky cream-like substance rest on my face, it brews a very disgusting scent, and I could almost shoot the bird if I ever have a gun with me.

Unknown what to do, I cupped my pockets for a napkin but there was none. I forgot to bring one. I slowly inhaled patience to calm myself. This day was definitely not going with me.

Just then, as I turned around to find a restroom, my eyes caught a sight of her; her hair tied in a ponytail, her tight jeans, her graphic shirt, her flats, and her smile, everything about her.

I watched her, like a stalker. She was carrying her guitar on her back, and she was playing with the birds, which were flocking around her because she has feeds on her hands. It was as if I am watching an angel. To me, the view was spectacular. If only if I have a camera with me...

But I have my eyes. I can turn this to a piece of art, more than what a printed photo can.

I followed her too when she strolled along the alleys of a street. She has entered a bistro, I wondered if she would see someone in here. I hoped not, well it should not be a boy then, if there ever was. I stayed near the door, where the guard was, as I watch her move inside the dim eatery. She hasn’t chosen a seat. Instead, she talked to an employee as if the person was already an acquaintance of her. The one with a different uniform, perhaps the manager, smiled at her and gestured the platform. She bowed and went towards the mini-stage.

With creased brows and pursed lips, I wondered what she would do. The guard has noticed me standing here for a while already so he decided to talk to me, “are you looking for something sir?”

I shook my head and called the waiter who just passed by me. “Uhm, where was the restroom?” The latter smiled and pointed the door on the farther left. I went inside to remove the dirt on my face and as I got out, a voice called my attention.

“Mic test, mic test. Alright it’s working.”

It was the girl—Hayi—sitting on a chair, with her guitar on her lap, and a microphone in front. I was surprised to find her there; I took the empty seat near me and watched her.

“Good evening everyone. I know you are all wondering who am I and what am I doing here bothering your delicious dinner,” she giggled and grabbed the microphone to lower it down, making the guests and I chortle too. “I’m Lee Hayi and I’m here to make your dinner more beautiful. Let’s began shall we?”

She cleared and adjusted the guitar on her lap; plucking the strings, she strummed as the song enters the first verse.

“Kissing on the rain, walking on the beach

I can see it now almost happening

Sneaking out at night, living like we’re free

You and I could do anything we please”

“You got the face to fit the frame

I cannot look away

Like can’t you see I’m hypnotized?”

“We’re picture perfect sweet like candy.

I’ll be your girl, yeah, I’ll be your baby.

We’re picture perfect barefoot beauty.

You stole my heart just like in the movies.”

“Got the key to me,

Tell me, tell me, I’m your darling daisy.

We’re picture perfect sweet like candy.

I’ll be your girl, yeah, I’ll be your baby.”

From that moment on, I swear, that something I feel, which I don’t recognize, hits me straight. Bull’s-eye.

It wasn’t long since I find myself falling, without even conversing at her.

It was hard not to love her.

┈ ♡ ┈

 “Ayo bro, long time no see!”

Jiwon appeared yet again in front of me, like a mushroom sprouting out of nowhere. I contained myself, because who knows he might have a black eye when he goes home. Rolling my eyes, I turned around and drank the coffee on the table. Espresso, bitter yet tastes good.

He frowned at my response and took the chair facing me. I didn’t bother listening to his long, long, long stories about what happened to him at his college life: the academics, the sports, and of course, the girls. I just kept my eyes on my pad and sketched a few lines here and there.

School has already started about a month ago. It meant shorter times to produce artworks and lesser time to see her. Unfortunately, what I thought about having her as a classmate did not happen. She attended another school, an all-girls college, which made it very impossible to catch a glimpse of her any time other than mornings. It kind of look like I’m a stalker or worse, a ert, but I don’t mind. I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?

I hissed as I smudged a black ink on a wrong spot. Jiwon pouted as he looked at my pad but shrugged anyway, threw a bind of envelopes from his trustworthy bag and handed a few to me.

“There you go, that’s the official invitation for the event. Uncle Yang ordered it given that it was his event after all, and since you are a part of it, here’s your copy. I got one for your mother and for other people you want to come as well.”

I picked one from the bunch and stared at it; the envelope itself screamed finesse, something I wished I would have. The intricate bronze linings were embossed, and the paper was scented. So much for a gate pass on the said occasion.

“I don’t have anyone in mind to give those, you should keep it. I don’t have that much friends you know,” I said, giving emphasis on the word ‘friends’, to which Jiwon frowned upon. However, the frown did not last long though, it soon returned into a wide lip-stretching grin, much to my dismay.

“You don’t? Are you sure, you don’t want to give one to somebody? Someone special, perhaps,” he said as a matter-of-fact, which made me cough while sipping the coffee.

I regained my composure and glared at him. “I don’t. I’m sure.”

Jiwon flapped his arms into the air. “Aw com’on! She needs to see that. After all, she’s the whole inspiration, the reason, right? I’m right, right?”

I sighed and looked down, on the table, touching the rim of my now empty cup. “I can’t,” I said simply, but it was hard to do so. After all these months, the many artworks I have made, admittedly so, she doesn’t know me.

For her, I am... just a stranger next door.

┈ ♡ ┈

The most awaited day in my life, at the moment, has finally came.

Zipping my knapsack close, I breathed a sigh, of bliss, of eagerness. Who knew that someone as young as I would finally be granted the promotion any employee ever wanted. In just a few hours, my life would be a heck lot different. This was for my father. This was his dream for me.

“Son, are you ready? The cab was already here!” I heard my mom shouting downstairs. I swung the bag on my back and gave one last glance at my right, where my window was, where she was.

She wasn’t there though. Perhaps she’s at the bistro performing and letting the others hear her cherub-like voice. It’s afternoon anyway.

I entered the taxi in front of our house. Mom was already inside, with excited eyes. The car drove us to the airport, where we would fly to Seoul. The lodging took a few hours before our plane arrives, and as it did, I could hear my heart thumping loudly. This was it.

┈ ♡ ┈

It was a three-day art exhibit featuring the young aspiring painters, sculptors, photographers—artists—of today’s generation. It was funded by none other than Mr. Yang Hyun Suk, a well-known business tycoon who has a knack for art and the persons behind it. Luckily, I belong to the list. It wouldn’t be all possible if not for my best friend, Kim Jiwon, who was Mr. Yang’s nephew. Well, I really owe him this one.

The event started with a bang; every one of Mr. Yang’s colleagues has attended and they were noble critics of art too. I was uneasy every single time a pair of eyes scanned my pieces, to which Mr. Yang voluntarily paid for the freight shipping. Maybe because it’s my first time, I was not used to a handful of crowds anyway.

As the clock ticks, my breathing became even. I am much more relaxed than I was before; I greeted the guests and lightly chatted with them, even I explained and debated with a few.

In this day alone, I cannot believe I as out of my comfort zone, living my dream. Everything was so new to me.

┈ ♡ ┈

Even though I did not bother inviting her, I still waited.

I know I’m an idiot for expecting her to appear and see all of these, but still, I patiently waited, like a pet dog waiting for his owner to come home so he could be play with him again.

But two days have passed and I saw no sign of her.

I give up now. Okay, all in all I can conclude that it was indeed my fault. If only I had the courage to knock on her door and hand her that piece of fragrant envelope, then I would not be looking like I lost half a million in the casino. I should be happy that I am now recognized as a promising young artist from a province far off the capital city, but I can’t. It that she hasn’t seen what she has done to me.

Pressing a deep sigh, I stood up from the comfortable leather chair and tucked my sleeve. I decided to let the negative thoughts go away and scanned the whole display before the day ends. Tomorrow it wouldn’t be here anymore. The guests already bought two-thirds of these, and a lot has been bidding on one specific artwork...

“This one,” I mumble as I stop at a framed masterpiece. Out of everything I made, this, I say, was the most special one of all. Even though it may look a bit plain for a ‘magnum opus’ of Kim Hanbin, for me, it was my darn everything. It was a painting of her, in a balcony, in a beautiful morning as beautiful as she was.

Someone talked behind my back. “It’s beautiful.”

I smiled and let the whole piece linger on my eyes for a few more minutes. “Yeah, it was. It’s very special to me.”

“What was its name?”

“Coup de foudre.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“It means, love at first sight.”

“Oh, I see,” the guest said and I could feel her smiling. I know it’s a cheesy title, but it’s true.

“Could I buy it, Mr. Kim?”

“No, I’m sorry you-” I turned my back around to face the guest and I am shocked to see who she was. It was her, clad in a black one-sleeve floral dress and a simple ribbon headband. I stared at her for quite a while, I never imagined I would see her up close. How and why did she come here? Who invited her!?

Taken aback by my reaction, she bit a smile and offered her hand for a shake. “Hi there, Kim Hanbin right? I’m Lee Hayi. Your works are splendid!”

“I know. Nice to meet you, finally.”

┈ ♡ ┈

a/n: please tell me what yu guys though of this short story :'> huge thanks to all who subscribed to my story. so appreaciated <3

my playlist while writing the fic:

1) Beautiful - James Blunt

2) When You Say Nothing At All - Boyzone

3) Picture Perfect - Charity Vance ( I SO LOVE THIS SONG SRSLY)