After spending several days shut in his work room, staring at a blank canvas with a circular palette topped with horrendous shades of paint that all looked the same in hand, Jongin grudgingly decided to take up Sehun’s silly suggestion. The artist didn’t have much else he could do in between his scheduled visits with Dr. Do, aside from wasting away at home which was the complete opposite of what he wanted. Jongin also didn’t have many other friends he could ask for advice from; Sehun and Yixing were the only two he had bothered to keep in contact with since his university days, and they both had already given him several suggestions on how to overcome his ruined color perception.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have cultivated more friendships when he was younger. The artist’s reasoning back then had been that he preferred to have a few best friends rather than dozens of acquaintance-like friends whom he would never be able to connect with on a more personal level. It was exhausting for Jongin to have to keep up with so many people, on top of his sponsors who demanded most of his time, and the time that he could hypothetically be spending with friends would take away from the hours he usually blocked off for working on commissions. There were only so many aspects of life that the artist could juggle reasonably, so he had chosen to sacrifice the social portion in the end.

But now, since Sehun was busy with his own matters and Yixing deserved to have a break after working virtually non-stop for so many years, Jongin didn’t have anyone else he could fall back on. He supposed Jongdae was an option, but the artist would rather continue to struggle silently than ask his bumbling older brother for guidance. Jongin could just imagine the glee in Jongdae’s voice when the older male realized that his proud, genius younger brother was coming to him, of all people, for help.

No, it was best to leave Jongdae out of his problems. Besides, his older brother was too occupied at the moment with his own job to even give Jongin a second glance. Nothing would come out of asking Jongdae.

But Yixing had been more than happy to send Jongin to a nearby art studio that was offering pottery classes after the artist had relayed Sehun’s suggestion to the manager. It was a walk-in class that was open to the public, so there was no need to register beforehand. “I’ll be around the area!” Yixing called through the rolled down window of the passenger’s side as Jongin began walking away from the car. “Call me when you need to be picked up!”

The artist held up a hand and waved without looking back. As per usual, his coat collar was standing up to slightly hide his face. Jongin walked into the designated classroom, which was already packed with people, and silently found an empty corner to situate himself in. No one paid him any attention, except for a girl by the entrance who had greeted him and handed him an apron to wear, since most people were either conversing with each other or also keeping to themselves as they patiently waited for the class to start. The vast number of people made the artist shrink further back into his seat, since he wanted to avoid speaking to anyone if he could. After he tied the apron around him, Jongin crossed one leg over the other and began sweeping his gaze around the crowded classroom.

Various paintings and sketches were hung up on the whitewashed walls, most of them quite elementary since they were pieces made by various younger students who took drawing lessons at the art studio. Most of them were standard landscape paintings or figure drawings. Nothing too extraordinary. On the east and west sides of the room, there were several wooden shelves nailed to the wall that held numerous jars and vases. Some were thematically grouped together, but most were unique and decorated differently from each other.

Before he could observe any further, the murmurings around him quieted down after several loud claps were heard.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Wheein and thank you for coming to this open pottery class!” a young woman with straight, silver-colored hair introduced with a bow. She was wearing a ruffled, floral white apron that was covered with various stains of brown and red over a lilac blouse and faded gray jeans. “I’m very excited for you all to delve into the wonderful world of ceramics today! We’ll be creating some simple jars and pots today, but if this isn’t your first time here or you’ve had prior experience with pottery, please feel free to make something more abstract and advanced!”

Polite applause rang throughout the large classroom and Wheein bowed again, smiling brightly at the audience as she did.

“My assistants and I will first pass out materials to everyone, and then I’ll get started on the lesson.”

More applause echoed, and several teenagers and young adults who were dressed in similar aprons to the one Wheein was wearing began passing out potter’s wheels, water basins, sponges, pointed wooden sticks, encased cutting wires, and blocks of moist reddish-brown clay that Jongin recognized as the color bole. He had imagined the clay to be pigmented with a lighter color, but then again, it wasn’t like he could trust his color vision right now anyway. Before the artist could further fixate on the clay’s color, Jongin forced his gaze to follow the pottery teacher instead and watched as she amicably greeted people while helping them set up their potter’s wheels.

As soon as everyone had their own tools, Wheein returned to the front of the classroom and began demonstrating how to use the potter’s wheel to transform the block of clay into a pot. “The term we potters use for shaping a pot is ‘throwing’,” she said before dipping her hands in her own basin of water as the potter’s wheel slowly began to turn. Seconds later, Wheein laid her hands against the cone-shaped blob and started pushing against it, keeping her elbows close to her body as she leaned towards the potter’s wheel. The pottery teacher kept her thumbs pressed on the top of the clay cone as it spun under her hands at a relatively high speed.

After several minutes, Wheein placed the bottom edge of her right hand on top of the block, so her thumb was pointing up towards the ceiling, while pressing the palm of her left hand against the upper half of it. Her hands slowly interlocked as they pushed against the clay while the potter’s wheel continued spinning rapidly. As it began to flatten down into a dome-like shape, the pottery teacher moved her right hand so that it was only covering half of the block’s top surface while her left hand smoothed out the bumpy chunks on the side.

Once she slightly slowed down the speed of the potter’s wheel, she placed her thumbs together in the center of the dome-shaped clay and began to push down to create the pot’s hollow middle. Wheein soon switched to solely using her right pointer finger to create the center while returning her left hand to the side again to support the clay as it spun. The more rotations that passed, the more hollow the center was becoming and the block of clay was soon beginning to resemble an actual jar. “If you feel the clay drying up, dip one hand back into the basin of water to remoisten your pot,” the pottery teacher advised while providing a demonstration. She then grabbed the yellow sponge from the water basin and used that to further smooth down the uneven edges that her hand hadn’t been able to earlier.

Wheein then pinched the side of the spinning clay with her left hand and used her right hand to pull it upwards into a cylindrical shape. She continued alternating between pulling and smoothing down the sides until the clay was a perfect cylinder. The pottery teacher then began shaping her pot by pushing against the top edge of the cylinder so that it flared outwards. Soon, the clay began to resemble a flowerpot and once she was satisfied with how wide it was, Wheein took the wooden stick that had been lying on the table and used it to trim away the excess material at the bottom. Her last step was to take the cutting wire and run it through the bottom to separate the pot from the potter’s wheel.

“And that’s how you do it!” Wheein said cheerfully with her finished pot sitting on the clay-streaked potter’s wheel. “Once you’ve finished shaping it, you’ll have to wait for your pot to dry for a few days and trim off some of the edges that might appear as it dries. Then it’ll dry for another week or two before it can go into the kiln for the first time to be bisque fired for several days. The final stage is glazing your pot and adding decorations before popping it back into the kiln once more to be glaze fired for about another two to three days. And then your pot is finally complete!” Everyone clapped again and Wheein bowed again, this time more theatrically. “Go ahead and start! My assistants and I will be walking around to help out anyone who needs it.”

With that, everyone began to start up their potter’s wheels and dip their hands into the water basins so that they could commence throwing their own pots. Jongin slightly scrunched up his nose as he stared at his block of bole-colored clay. He wasn’t averse to messes, having created more than his fair share as a painter, but working with wet clay was another story. The artist gave the moist glob a tentative poke and shivered when he felt it squelch under his touch.

“Need some help starting?” It was Wheein, who had noiselessly appeared at his side, looking with an amused expression at Jongin scrutinizing his clay block.

“I’m fine,” the artist politely declined. “Thank you though.” His pride as an artist kept him from accepting the pottery teacher’s assistance, especially since this was just the beginning. It would be shameful if he were led from the start without having tried to do so by himself.

She smiled cheerfully at him and nodded. “If you do later on, let me know!” A nearby student raised her hand and Wheein turned away to help her instead.

After another dozen of seconds of staring at the block of moist clay, Jongin gingerly dipped his hands to wet them before starting up the potter’s wheel and placing his hands on the clay blob. The smooth feeling was surprisingly much more pleasant than he had imagined it would be and the soft, rhythmical whirring of the potter’s wheel set a relaxing ambiance for him to work in. His gentle hands began to mold the clay as it spun underneath them and soon, he was able to push down the center to hollow out the block.

“Great job!” Wheein had returned and was eagerly watching the artist work.

Jongin jumped slightly, since he had been too concentrated on the task at hand to notice the pottery teacher sneaking up on him again.

“You might want to smooth out the top edge with your sponge so that it doesn’t hurt your hand when you’re molding the sides,” she then cautioned as she pointed to some of the uneven chunks that were visible at the top of the spinning clay.

“Oh, okay. Thank you.”

Throughout the next hour, Wheein hovered around Jongin whenever she wasn’t busy helping out other students and randomly gave him advice on how he should be properly throwing his pot. Although he was somewhat irked at first, the artist knew that he was in no position to dismiss the pottery teacher’s tips and tricks, especially since he was only a beginner when it came to ceramics. Luckily, as more time passed, Wheein made fewer comments until she was virtually silent as she watched him and just hummed in approval whenever he did something correctly, so Jongin was easily able to forget that he was being observed.

When Jongin began shaping his pot, Wheein spoke up once more. “Just use your fingertips,” she advised. “You don’t want to put too much pressure on the clay, since that might ruin your piece. Light, gentle touches are the key.”

So Jongin obliged and moved his bole-stained hands so that only the tips of his fingers were pressed against the moist clay. The top half of the cylinder began spinning in an outwards direction, much like how Wheein’s had during her demonstration, although his wasn’t as symmetrical as hers had been. Jongin then carefully maneuvered the clay so that it was more even. After several minutes, the artist decided it was good enough and he turned down the speed of the potter’s wheel so that he could properly angle his wooden stick against the bottom without accidentally poking the body of the newly shaped pot.

"Wow, your pot looks fantastic,” the pottery teacher praised with a wide grin before sauntering off to another corner of the classroom.

Jongin stared after her, wondering why she had paid so much attention to him, before shrugging to himself and continuing to chip away at the excess clay on the bottom of his pot.

People were finishing up their pots and started waving for Wheein or her assistants to take their creations, since the pots couldn’t be taken home in this condition without drying and being fired in the kiln first. Because it could take up to several weeks for a pot to be truly completed, it was standard for Wheein to recollect the amateur pots and recycle them into blocks of clay to be used in future classes.

“Thank you for attending the class, everyone! You can wash your hands at the sinks to your left and please hand your apron to any of my assistants before you leave. Have a wonderful afternoon and get home safely!” The young pottery teacher waved cheerfully to the audience, who began filing out of the classroom after stopping by the sinks to clean themselves.

Jongin waited in his seat so that he could be at the end of the line and carefully untied his apron, trying not to get any clay on his pristine black coat, before dropping it off in the waiting arms of a boy who was carrying a stack of dirty aprons. Once it was his turn at the sink, the artist thoroughly washed his hands under the clear tap water and watched the rivulets of clay drip down from his fingers. He then turned off the tap and grabbed some scratchy brown paper towels to dry his hands before inspecting himself to make sure he was clean. There was some clay dust on his clothes, so the artist began to lightly pat it away.

As Jongin was dusting the stray clay particles from his black pants, the young pottery teacher shyly approached him with sparkling eyes. “Um, excuse me?”

“Yes?”

“You’re Kim Jongin, right? The famous artist?”

He nodded hesitantly, unsure of what to say now that he had been recognized. And he wondered why the pottery teacher hadn’t said anything when he had first walked in or when she had been helping him shape his pot earlier.

“I’m a huge fan of yours!” Wheein said with a beaming smile before quickly bowing respectfully to the artist. “I’ve been following your work for several years now and I actually wrote most of my papers on your artwork when I was studying for my Bachelor’s of Fine Arts degree.”

“Uh, thank you. I appreciate the support,” Jongin answered, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. He had never been good at interacting with fans in informal settings. It was easier to during exhibitions or galas, since his artwork was usually there to discuss as well. But engaging purely in casual small talk with strangers was not one of Jongin’s fortes.

“I recognized you the moment you walked in, but I figured you were trying to blend in with everyone else, so I didn’t say anything until now,” the pottery teacher explained with a kind smile while gesturing to the high collar of his black coat that was partially obscuring his face. “And even though there’s been news that you returned to Seoul, I wasn’t entirely sure if the rumors were true, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up in case you turned out to be a doppelganger.”

“Thank you for not outing me earlier.” Jongin courteously extended a hand, which Wheein shook while a faint pink blush spread across her thin cheeks.

“Of course, Mr. Kim! I know you’re a private man, so I wouldn’t dream of making you feel uncomfortable with any unwanted attention.”

This polite young woman would go far in the art field. Jongin could already tell, having seen her talents earlier and glimpsing the telltale spark in her eyes that the artist had previously possessed. It was just a matter of time and that lucky break, which would give her the necessary opportunities to make it big. If he weren’t so absorbed with his own problems right now, he would even offer her the contact information of several sponsors who would possibly be interested in her work. But since the artist had cut off his connections with them for the time being, Jongin didn’t think it was appropriate for him to do so. Not at this time.

“Well, I think I’ll get going now.” Jongin gave Wheein a slight nod before saying, “Thank you for teaching the class. I learned a lot.”

“If you’d ever like to come back for another lesson, I host these open classes once a month,” the young pottery teacher genially informed him before reaching into the front pocket of her clay-stained apron. A few seconds later, there was a thin ivory-colored business card in between her fingers and she handed it to Jongin. “Or if you’d like learn more than just the basics, you can sign up for one of my beginner classes. I teach those every weekend.”

The artist nodded as he looked at the name printed in copper-colored cursive on the business card. Jung Wheein. Perhaps she could become a protégé of some sort in the future. He’d see.

But first, he needed Dr. Do to fix his eyes.

--

Soojung was softly humming to herself as she busily sorted through files at her desk. There weren’t many patrons to attend to this afternoon and it was nice to have a few moments of quiet. There were usually patients shuttling in and out at every minute, and someone always had a question for her. So the calm downtimes were a welcome respite from the typical hustle and bustle that she had to deal with.

The only background noises that sounded were the soft whirs of the air conditioning system, the steady ticking of the circular clock that hung on the wall at the back of the receptionist’s open office, and the occasional jingles of the bell attached to the top of the door, ringing whenever someone walked in or out of the eye clinic. The people who were currently in the waiting room were all either reading books or on their tablets, playing games or messaging friends on their cell phones, or taking naps in the comfy armchairs. It was blissfully peaceful and Soojung had never felt more stress-free since graduating college several years ago.

But that delightful serenity was soon shattered upon the arrival of Kim Jongin.

♈♈♈