~6~

Truth be told, it was sad.

After all, after two weeks of unnecessarily dragging his out of bed on a Monday morning, Min Yoongi had expected more. He had expected so much more than to stare at the yellowing patch of sweat on his professor's seemingly pristine white shirt. The color all the more jarring as Mr. Choi dramatically swung his arms from side to side.

Indeed, it was sad.

Truly sad.

So much so that Yoongi could only let his head fall against his easel in a soft thud. Relentlessly thinking of how to change Mr. Choi's mind, he hadn't slept a wink the night before. A fact that his body, in the face of his blank Monday morning schedule, had more than begged him to cherish as perfectly as he'd been doing for the past semester. All paired with the desperate calls of his bed as he had dragged his out of his apartment.

Still, he hadn't listened. 

He hadn't and his eyes could only drift to a close as he relaxed against his easel.

His mind drifting back to the first time he had stepped into this studio. His steps growing heavier as he had found himself face to face with a board of professors, his destiny lying on a silver platter in front of them.

A butcher's knife at the ready as they had smiled and nodded back at him.

He had been given 10 minutes to impress them. However, his eyes had never left that butcher's knife. His heart had simply latched onto the fear growing in his chest. His mind had simply given in to the memory of his brother scolding him a few minutes before for napping before such an important exam. Even though the latter's voice had slightly been distorted due to the network interference, Yoongi had felt the warmth beneath the harshness. He had almost felt his brother's nervous embrace as the latter had dissolved into an endless stream of reassuring words. So much so that he had felt as though he could recall those months when they'd been separated by a mere womb and tangible hatred.

"Human emotions are exquisitely vile, don't you think?"

The words had left Yoongi's lips in perfect unison with the growing irritation in the professors' faces at his prolonged silence. On the other hand, the timer seemed to have had a mind of its own as it had sped forward faster and faster. Simply beckoning Yoongi to catch up as he had slowly looked down and studied his hand.

"We are hypocrites in our portrayal of ourselves." He had simply recalled the vile emotions these fingers had desperately wished to orchestrate before flourishing into the most tender touch. "Do you perhaps know what links us all in this room?" He had simply recalled the pain in his chest as he had looked back at half of himself and a stranger. "The Origin of the world by Gustave Courbet."

"Come again?"

At that moment, a part of him had known that he had just turned those professors to putty in his hands. A part of him had known that he had just aced probably one of the most difficult entrance exams in the country. A part of him had sincerely known but all he could recall was that unexplainable emotion as he had looked down at his half-brother. That delectable mixture of deep hatred and jealousy dissolving into pure and unconditional love as the tiny baby had cooed at him. His equally tiny fingers reaching out to Yoongi instead of their mother's: the very origin of it all.

"The painting is crude, shamelessly depicting how a woman had spread her legs for the French artist; yet why look on with disdain? What exactly about this woman is distasteful? Wouldn't frowning at her, mean frowning at our own others for having done the same to a doctor to welcome us into this world? Gustave Courbet was not afraid to depict reality in such detail that it would disturb more than many; that it would be misunderstood as being far too . All that mattered was that his painting was looked at. In coming to this university, I want to attain the same gusto. I want to be unafraid."

Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook couldn't have been any more different.

Nonetheless, their origin was the same.

Its only distinction laying in its representation.

Indeed, though he had had been the first to scream it from every roof top, behind his beautiful yet broken family portrait, Yoongi had been born from the pressure of his mother's in-laws.

Though it had been said to be a passionate love story, Jungkook had undoubtedly been born from an affair.

Though, they had become a model family, the contrast remained the same.

Nonetheless, talented beyond repair, Yoongi had known that if he learned, he could properly show it to Jungkook. He had known that he would then be able to show him how blindingly beautiful he was against their crude and soiled family portrait.

He had known but he had never shown it.

All because every time he pressed the shutter, he relentlessly failed to capture the exquisite truth. Only for him to slowly nod every passing second, every passing year, as the lies he captured grew more beautiful. Beautiful enough to satisfy him as fear lavishly wrapped around him. Cackling as it whispered the truth beneath it all. After all, they both knew just how much he hesitated before looking down at his pictures: A horrifying chill creeping up his spine as he feared getting much worse than a lie.

"Daddy or Mommy, Min Yoongi. You choose."

Beep.

Yoongi's eyes slowly fluttered open.

The professors curiously peering back at him now a distant memory.

However, the timer remained, ringing just as loudly as four years ago.

"You have a bed in your home."

All because Mr. Choi was holding the damned thing to his ear.

"Use it."

Now.

To tell him that he had and failed or to tell him that he had and failed?

Yoongi's answer finished in a small yawn and at a smack to the head as Mr. Choi clucked his tongue at him. After all, though he had wanted to smack Yoongi, the latter had expertly dodged with as much finesse as the sleepy cat that he sometimes embodied. Thus, resulting in a yawning Yoongi on his feet, eyeing the students exiting the studio, each one as loudly as the next.

"You've been coming to my class for the past 2 weeks, Min Yoongi, yet you passed it three years ago." Mr. Choi noted as he passed by him and finally managed to smack the back of his head. "Emphasis on the three. Do you know what your sleeping in my classes does to my image?"

Nothing that his sweat patches hadn't already proven.

Not that Yoongi didn't point it out as he stared at them for a good 30 seconds before yawning once more.

"Ask your question and stop coming to my classes." Mr. Choi noted before plopping down on Yoongi's stool. "If it has something to do with the exhibit, say nothing."

"Nothing."

Now.

Mr. Choi was a married man and fifty-year-old father. However, the blush on his cheeks could have given any little girl a run for their money as he looked back at Yoongi. The sleeves of his oversized black sweater hid his long fingers but they could still be made out as he carefully tiptoed them over his forearms. All before disappearing under his chin as he nestled himself atop of his easel. His feline gaze following his professor's every move as he slightly cocked his head to the side.

"Can't you teach me whatever lesson you're trying to teach me after handing me my diploma, sir?" Yoongi whispered against the fabric of his sweater.

"If you don't get your diploma, no one will, Min Yoongi." Mr. Choi chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest.

"What about if I don't participate in the exhibit?"

Mr. Choi had been sitting in this very room four years ago. He had looked back at Yoongi with as much fervor as he now did. However, Yoongi knew for a fact that he wouldn't be giving him a standing ovation today. After all, they both knew the opportunities that this end of year exhibit would provide.

"Others will participate and you-." Mr. Choi started as he got to his feet. "You'll survive."

"I won't." Yoongi countered as Mr. Choi walked past him.

"Did I or did I not send you more than 5 job offers explicitly asking just for you just yesterday?" Mr. Choi scoffed. "They're all counting down the days until your graduation."

They both knew that Yoongi already held every opportunity in the palm of his hand.

He just needed to be a good boy and focus on this last assignment. 

"What do they matter if I graduate without being any better than any ignorant first year?" Yoongi continued as he focused on the empty seats before him. "What do they matter if I'm not even capable of qualifying for a mere school exhibit?" 

"That's insulting, Min Yoongi." Mr. Choi called as he gathered his things.

"Was your throwing my roll film in the trash not insulting?"

True.

Min Yoongi hadn't slept a wink last night. Rather than playing the polite model student, he wanted nothing more than to sleep. However, he hadn't fallen asleep as Mr. Choi had so nicely pointed out. On the contrary, he'd been aware of his surroundings. He'd been aware of the high praise his professor had been giving him throughout his every single lesson. He'd been aware of every high and low of Mr. Choi's voice as he had told all of these ignorant first years, as he had so nicely put, just whom to look up to. Hell, he'd been very aware as Mr. Choi had looked the most interesting student he'd ever had straight in the eye and thrown away his rolls of film in this very room three weeks ago.

"What did you feel when I did that?" Mr. Choi called as Yoongi circled his easel.

"Exactly what you'd feel if I truthfully answered that question, sir." He mused as he sat down.

"Human emotions are exquisitely vile, aren't they, Min Yoongi? So show them to me."

There was a slight pause.

Just as Yoongi's eyes as they settled on the paper before him.

On the sketch he'd absent-mindedly made.

"Just like you did on that paper."

Contrary to painters, regardless of their emotions, photographers had the privilege of immortalizing a moment on film perfectly as is. Nonetheless, they had to follow drawing classes to discover who they truly were as an artist; to decipher what exactly they looked for in their subject; to feel their subject beneath their fingers.

They had to follow the curve of their pencil as it danced across their papers. Momentarily stopping to accentuate a slight blemish or the depth of a gaze. Only to scurry off once more as they sketched the rise and fall of dark hair. All before stopping once more as they defined frail collar bones and fell down the front of a loose blouse, inviting curves pulling them further.

"What else were you looking at? I truly do wonder."

A lot more.

However, his sketch stopped there.

After all, that was when she had hugged him.

Her vanilla scent still lingering around him.

"Let your emotions jump out of your lens too."

A gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Let us truly feel what Min Yoongi felt behind that lens." Mr. Choi softly added before opening the studio door. "Learn to do that that and I will host an exhibit just for you."

There were words to describe how fast Yoongi had wiped that smile from his lips. There truly were and they ended with Mr. Choi's own faint smile as he shut the studio door behind him. Thus, allowing Yoongi to swiftly close his drawing pad.

There were several reasons why he'd chosen photography and they all amounted to the fact that he was in control of his camera. If a stranger had disappeared from his sight, they wouldn't etch themselves onto his film as they had so perfectly done on his drawing pad. If they were nowhere to be seen, they were of no interest to him.

He already had more than enough on his plate.

He didn't need to add a beautiful girl to the mix.

Beautiful.

The simple fact that he hadn't forgotten to add that special adjective to the description was already giving him more headaches than he could count. As though to make matters worse, his phone rang and the second his eyes met Seokjin's bright smile on his screen, he just knew that he wouldn't be able to peacefully sleep his headache off.

"If you're not dying somewhere, hang up."

"I am." Seokjin immediately countered but Yoongi was just as fast.

"Then hang up and call 911."

Yoongi heard a dying whale noise somewhere on Seokjin's side of the receiver but ignored it as he picked up his bag. Swiftly tucking his drawing pad under his arm, he carefully made his way out of the studio.

"It could be too late." Seokjin mock gasped as someone laughed behind him.

"Then why did you waste your last phone call calling me?" Yoongi mused as he blended into the crowd outside of the studio.

"Because I love you."

Yoongi was normally careful not to let his drawing pad hit innocent passersby. However, that hardly mattered as he all but stopped in his tracks. His mind carefully going over the list of his passwords that Seokjin had mysteriously learned. The sudden realization that he had carelessly left his bank statements on the kitchen counter during Seokjin's last visit sending a chill down his spine just as much as the latter's creepy chuckle into the receiver.

"Are you blushing?" Seokjin cooed.

"Gagging would be the word." Yoongi sighed as he drummed his fingers against his drawing pad. 

"You know it's mutual." Seokjin teased before chuckling. "How about Kookie and I treat you to lunch to make up for it?"

Yoongi had just come to terms with the amount of money he'd see magically trickling out of his back account over the next few days, courtesy of Kim Seokjin, when he blinked. Though he'd much prefer Jungkook doing the groceries once in a while rather than paying him a cheap lunch on campus, there were more pressing matters in this picture.

"You don't have class on Monday mornings." Yoongi noted as he sidled to a corner. "What did you drag Jungkook into?"

"You mean what did Kookie drag us into." Seokjin corrected.

"What do you mean?" Yoongi pushed on as his eyebrows furrowed.

"When you nod your head yes but you wanna say no." Seokjin sang much to Yoongi's dismay.

"Seok-."

"I made friends."

This should have been the part where Yoongi let out all of his frustration at his lack of sleep onto his very deserving best friend. This should have been the part where he tore into Seokjin for dragging Jungkook into yet another one of his impromptu group dates. It sincerely should have. However, Yoongi's momentum was cut short at the sound of his brother's voice: His 18-year-old innocence jarring though he was now in his third year of University.

"I really want you to meet them, hyung." Jungkook hesitated before loudly continuing. "Plus, I have a surprise for you!"

The bright sound of his awkward chuckle enrapturing.

"You do?"

So much so that Yoongi's gentle smile was only natural as he let out a defeated sigh. Only to chuckle the following minute as he could all but feel Jungkook beaming through his phone.

"It starts with sunshine!" A familiar voice sang somewhere behind Jungkook.

"And ends with you paying for the food, Hoseok?"

There was something unnervingly beautiful about the contrast between Hoseok's swearing and Yoongi's laughter as the latter leaned back against the wall. The enchanting timber of his voice garnering him several curious and interested looks but they hardly mattered as Jungkook hurriedly spoke to him.

"We're getting you the usual" Jungkook called as Yoongi heard cheering in the back.

"And since when did Seokjin tell you that I have a usual?" Yoongi asked as he began his countdown.

1.

2.

"Since I've been feeding your perfectionist every lunch time for the past 5 years going on 6."

Seokjin on perfect cue? Check.

"Where would I be without you?" Yoongi deadpanned as he looked down at his watch.

"In decomposition in a dark room."

Savage and hungry Seokjin? Double Check.

"How long have you been queuing?" Yoongi chuckled as he leaned off of the wall.

"Long enough for you to head on over to Studio 4 and keep the sunniest spot in the room free for me."

Yoongi could practically hear the pout in Seokjin's voice but all he could do was roll his eyes. He had more pressing matters at end. Most of which amounted to finding the easiest way of telling Jungkook, Seokjin and Hoseok that he'd rather go home and sleep than to eat in a cold studio with, even if Jungkook's friends, strangers. He had priorities and they needed to be met regardless of the advantage these 3 idiots had over him when united.

So he lied through his teeth.

"Studios are all the way on the other side of campus."

His eyes zeroing in on Studio 1's door, the latter seemingly judging him as Yoongi innocently turned away.

"Why would we even eat in a studio?" He calmly tried as he walked away.

"Min Yoongi, your Kookie of all people has told you that he has friends, food and a surprise." Seokjin clucked his tongue as someone yelped behind him. "This should be the part where you pinch his cheek and do, not question."

"I don't pinch cheeks." Yoongi made a face.

"Figuratively." Seokjin pointed out before chuckling. "I also have a surprise for you, you know?"

"I knew that I should have hung up as soon as I'd heard your voice." Yoongi noted as he readjusted his hold on his drawing pad.

"You wouldn't have!" Seokjin called before clearing his throat. "Because we've got that no you hang up-."

Silence had never felt more divine as Yoongi slipped his phone back into his pocket.

His steps drawing to a close as he looked up.

Studio 4.

True.

He had priorities.

Not only was his body screaming bloody murder for a bed; he also needed to surpass Mr. Choi's challenge. More importantly, he didn't pinch cheeks. However, his body needed food to function and Jungkook being mad at him for choosing sleep over him had never ended well.

So Yoongi opened the door.

---->

Hello, hello ^^ We've backtracked and wandered into the mind of an extremely sleepy yet alert Yoongi. We all know what happens when our dear photographer opens that door but we've only seen Mijin's side of things... haven't we?

By the way, if you don't know the painting 'The Origin of the World' by Gustave Courbet, you probably won't really understand why it was daring for a guy who wasn't even 18 yet to talk about it and understand it in such a way. If you're not faint hearted and curious, do look up an analysis :)

Until next time, do read, read and do comment <3! Ciaociaoxx

Fun fact: I played 'The Last' and 'First Love' on a loop while writing the first part and now when I close my eyes, I can only hear the most beautiful distorted mashup.