When Jongin finally woke up, he groggily checked the time on his phone, but it was still set to Central European Time. He would have to remind himself to change that when he was fully conscious. Although his mind was currently too fuzzy to do the math for the time conversion, he remembered there was a circular analog clock hanging on the wall across from his bed. So the artist squinted, still half-asleep, as he looked at the clock and saw that it was already past two in the afternoon. Jongin groaned audibly, knowing he needed to get out of bed but not wanting to move from his comfortable position.

He decided it wouldn’t hurt for him to lay there for just a couple more minutes, until he was fully awake. Jongin’s gaze lazily drifted around his bedroom, letting nostalgia wash over him. Numerous paintings and sketches that he had created during his childhood were framed in elaborate golden casings all over the chalky white walls. His mother had picked her favorite ones from her son’s vast collection while his father had meticulously assembled them onto the walls per Jongin’s instructions. They needed to be perfectly positioned in order to showcase each piece’s focal point to its best. Even as a young boy, Jongin had been extremely particular about his art and wouldn’t accept anything below his high standards.

The artist smiled wryly as he continued sweeping his eyes around the spacious room, wondering what had happened to that little boy who could create something out of nothing.

--

“Finally up?” Jongdae was sitting at the dining table with dozens of papers and colored ink pens spread out in front of him.

“Obviously. Why are you still here? Don’t you have work? Y’know, since you’re so important as the CEO’s slave or something like that?” Jongin jibed as he walked over to the marble kitchen counter to pour himself a hot cup of coffee. Even after all this time, his older brother always kept the coffee machine filled to the brim with fresh coffee. Although Jongin still couldn’t fathom why Jongdae would ever need so much coffee, considering the older male had spent most of his time sleeping and wasting his time on frivolous activities before Jongin moved to Paris, the artist was now grateful for Jongdae’s quirky habit. That fool wasn’t completely useless.

Jongdae ignored his younger brother’s biting remarks as he continued reading through the proposals he had been assigned and marking them up, switching pens every few moments to highlight certain parts with certain colors. “I’m still here because of you, stupid. God, you should’ve just stayed in Paris forever.” He briefly looked up from his work to point the green pen he was holding in the direction of the refrigerator. “Yixing made you some food and left it on the second shelf. But you really don’t need to eat it. I’d rather have you starve, to be honest.”

“Well, aren’t you a bundle of sunshine today.” While he rooted around the refrigerator, Jongin’s nose crinkled slightly when he saw how messy the interior was. He made a mental note to reorganize everything later, after he finished unpacking and setting up his old art studio that had been left untouched at his request before leaving Seoul three years ago. It had definitely been a good idea to return home. Jongdae clearly couldn’t survive on his own if he even left the refrigerator in this sad state. “Speaking of Yixing, where is he?”

“Helping the movers pick up some of the smaller packages you two shipped from Paris. Apparently, you guys brought too much stuff and the moving company doesn’t have enough trucks available at the moment to bring it all back here before their next appointment.”

“Mm,” Jongin mumbled in response, his mouth stuffed with a slice of kimbap. It had been too long since he had eaten Korean cuisine, so he happily savored the familiar taste of seaweed, cucumber, egg, carrot, beef, and rice all combined into a scrumptious roll. He quickly chewed and swallowed the piece of kimbap before asking, “Are you going to stay home the entire day?”

Jongdae nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah."

“Really? Your boss is going to allow that?” Jongin looked skeptically at his older brother. “I thought you were ‘an extremely significant employee’ and that ‘the CEO wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything without you’,” the artist quoted, holding up one hand to create air quotes as he repeated his older brother’s words from the previous day while his other hand was balancing the china plate filled with the stack of kimbap Yixing had made for him. “Seems pretty counterintuitive that you aren’t actually doing your job.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now, dummy?” Jongdae retorted while jabbing a finger at the various papers on the dining table. “And I already called in, saying I had an emergency to deal with. The emergency being you.”

“I’m quite flattered that you think so highly of me, at least enough to skip work, oh brother of mine,” Jongin quipped before lazily dropping another slice of kimbap into his open mouth.

Jongdae groaned loudly. “You shut your trap and get out of my kitchen."

“Correction: our kitchen, Jongdae. I know I’ve been absent for a while, but this is my house too, remember?”

What had he done in his past life to be punished with Jongin as his younger brother in this one?

--

“Do you have a game plan now that we’re back?” Yixing was sitting on the wooden floor, watching Jongin diligently organize all of his art supplies. The manager would’ve offered to help his friend if he hadn’t already known that Jongin had a very specific way of setting up his work space. The first time Yixing had tried to help Jongin out when he first started working for him, the artist had flown into a rage, yelling in exasperation for the older male to stop right there because he was doing everything wrong.

Jongin carefully placed a tube of ultramarine paint into the plastic shelf that was designated for shades of blue. And the artist cursed himself while he did, because for goodness sake, none of the paints in that stupid shelf looked blue. He wouldn’t have even been able to trust himself with correctly categorizing the paints if it weren’t for the names labeled on the tubes. “Not really.”

“Oh.” There was a slight pause before Yixing continued in a nervous voice, “By the way, I told Jongdae about your condition this morning while you were still asleep.” He instantly braced himself for one of Jongin’s angry outbursts.

But the younger male just answered, “Good. I won’t have to tell him myself now, and listen to him go on and on about how messed up I’ve become.” He sounded like he didn't care for the most part, but there was a note of bitterness in the artist’s voice that didn’t escape Yixing’s attention.

“Jongin… You know Jongdae would never do that to you.”

The younger male let out a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Jongin tightly gripped a tube of midnight blue paint as he stared down at the plastic shelf in his lap until he mentally forced himself to calm down, lest he burst the tube with his brute strength. "I'm just really stressed out right now."

That was the understatement of the century.

--

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Yixing asked for the umpteenth time.

“Relax, Yixing. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But people might recognize you and mob you on your way there,” Yixing said worriedly as he helped Jongin slip on a large beige-colored overcoat. “Everyone thinks you’re still in Paris so this might cause some chaos if the media catches you, especially because of your current reputation. The European sponsors are still upset that you canceled on them so many times in the past five months. I don’t think they’ll react well to hearing that you’ve been sighted in South Korea when you still have unfinished business back in Paris.”

Jongin sighed, acknowledging that his manager had brought up several good points. “Fine, if you insist. I won’t take public transportation. You can drive me there and pick me up when I’m ready to come back home.”

He hadn’t wanted to burden Yixing, seeing how pale and stressed out his friend was. Jongin had half a mind to tell the older male not to work for the next few months. After all, the artist was still in his self-imposed hiatus and he didn’t have plans to end it any time soon. Yixing would just be wasting his time if he continued searching and scheduling events that Jongin wouldn’t even be participating in the end.

But Yixing just beamed as he drove Jongin to his destination. He hadn’t slept so well in weeks, maybe months. It really did feel good to be home. It was so refreshing not to be Jongin’s only target after three long years. The manager felt bad for sacrificing Jongdae and letting him receive the harsh tongue-lashings now, but Jongin’s older brother definitely did a better job of talking back to the artist so Yixing figured he would just stay quiet and let the two siblings verbally battle it out as they usually did.

They soon arrived in front of a mansion not unlike Jongin’s. Yixing whistled when he saw the lavish property, commenting, “Wow. He really upgraded, didn’t he?”

The artist didn’t see anything that was particularly eye-catching about the house, but then again, nothing was very visually stimulating to him nowadays. He just nodded in agreement and replied, “I’ll call you when I want to be picked up.”

“Okay. See you soon, Jongin.”

“Thanks for the ride, Yixing,” the artist said as he stepped out of the black Lexus LS 460. He waved to his manager before closing the door and walking towards the mansion. Once he arrived at the door, he pressed the white button for the doorbell and heard a faint jingle come from the other side.

Several moments later, a tall handsome man opened the door and gasped in surprise, quickly embracing the artist as he exclaimed, “Jongin, you’re back! Oh my god, it’s been too long.”

“Happy to see you too, Sehun.”

“Hurry and get your inside,” Sehun directed as he swiftly pulled Jongin into his home and closed the door after them. As they walked to the living room, Sehun couldn’t stop gushing about how good Jongin looked and yammered on about how boring life had become once the artist moved to Paris. “I don’t have anyone to hang out with anymore except for people from work. And they’re all so dull and pretentious,” Sehun commented disdainfully as he pulled Jongin down onto the black leather couch in the middle of the living room.

“Are all models really like that?” Jongin asked with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he basked in the much-needed company of his best friend.

Sehun thought for a moment before responding, “Well, I suppose not. I don’t know. I guess I just got too used to how real you are and after you left, everyone else felt fake. After all, no one can compare to you, Jongin.” The model grinned with that million-dollar smile that Jongin had captured on paper dozens of times.

“I missed you too, Sehun,” Jongin answered, finally letting a smile of his own erase his usually austere expression. He really did. Only Sehun could make him feel like a normal person instead of the art prodigy he was.

“Tell me all about your adventures abroad!” Sehun said excitedly, grabbing Jongin’s hands and slightly jumping in his seat.

So Jongin regaled him with tale after tale, telling his best friend about all of the beautiful gardens he had strolled through, all of the exquisite French cuisine he had the pleasure of eating in five-star restaurants, all of the art shows and gallery exhibits he had participated in, and so much more. Talking about his experiences with Sehun, who listened attentively to every word that escaped the artist’s mouth, made Jongin realize how much he had sincerely loved being in Paris. It really was a shame that he had almost forgotten three years’ worth of precious memories because of a sudden obstacle appearing in his midst.

Even though several months had passed since then, the artist still couldn’t believe his muse had left him so suddenly.

Sehun could tell that Jongin was becoming more distracted as he talked, so he stopped his best friend mid-sentence before interjecting, “What made you come back so soon? You told me you planned on staying in Paris for at least five years. Why didn’t you stay the entire time?”

Jongin became noticeably quieter. And then he explained his newfound problems to Sehun, whose eyes widened considerably as the artist spoke.

“Oh my god…” Sehun breathed, holding a hand to his mouth. “I can’t believe it…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty terrible.”

“Have you done anything about it yet? Seen anyone or tried something to figure out what’s wrong?”

The artist shook his head. “Not yet. I honestly don’t know where to start. It was really sudden and I’m still not completely sure of what’s really going on.”

“Why don’t you see an ophthalmologist?” Sehun suggested. “I can refer you to my doctor. He’s always done a pretty good job for me.”

Jongin nodded while taking out his phone. “What’s his name? I’ll ask Yixing to set up an appointment for me.”

“Dr. Kim Junmyeon.”

Jongin quickly typed up a text message and sent it to his manager, instructing Yixing to snag the earliest available time with Dr. Kim Junmyeon for the artist, even if he had to negotiate for it. “Do you really think he can figure out what’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t be able to. And it doesn’t hurt to get a professional opinion. Maybe it could lead you in the right direction.” Sehun suddenly smiled widely as he continued, “And to fix your other problem, why don’t you come to my next photo shoot?”

Jongin raised an eyebrow at Sehun’s proposal. “And that’ll help because…”

“It might help you become inspired again!” Sehun answered excitedly, evidently pleased with himself for coming up with such an idea. “The upcoming fall collections are being released soon and seeing me model some new pieces might give you something to work with.” The model reached over to the low glass table that stood nearby and plucked a thin booklet that lay on the tabletop. He flipped through several pages before landing on one with his name printed in large bold letters at the top and showed the booklet to Jongin. “I’m wearing these sets at the photo shoot. I haven’t posed with neutral colors in a while and since taupe is trending right now, the company decided it would be good for me to branch out a bit and model this.”

The artist shook his head in disbelief as he looked at the photos. “This is what they’re calling taupe nowadays?” he asked incredulously.

Sehun just shrugged. “I guess so. But you know anyone who claims they know something in the fashion industry is actually a blithering idiot.”

Jongin couldn’t agree more. Taupe was a delicate color that required finesse and sharp eagle eyes. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly, like the basic colors of the rainbow. It doubled as a variant of brown and gray, often confusing people on whether it was grayish-brown or brownish-gray. That was the color’s best feature. The artist loved using taupe in his pieces because of its versatility and the different ways that it would be distinguished, depending on the complementary colors used alongside it.

These clothes were definitely not taupe. Even with his botched color perception, Jongin could slightly discern the pink undertones that were evident in the light khaki-colored clothing. He was quite certain that moles weren’t this pinkish-gray color. What a joke. It hurt him to see such a beautiful color be tarnished in such a way.

“Alright, I’ll go. I need to have a talk with the photo shoot director,” Jongin decided resolutely as he continued staring disapprovingly at the photos. “I’m not going to allow anyone to advertise this as taupe when it clearly isn’t.”

“Thank god. Honestly, the industry needs someone like you who tells it to them straight. You sure you don’t want to become a creative director or something?” The model wiggled his perfectly shaped eyebrows with a playful smirk as he spoke.

Jongin good-naturedly shoved the younger male back, answering, “No way. Not in this life.”

Of course Sehun knew that Jongin would refuse. His best friend couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself be tied down by silly rules and regulations. Jongin would be able to soar to much greater heights on his own, unbound by the shackles that were clamped onto everyone else’s ankles.

But then, what was chaining him down right now?

♈♈♈