[Mark’s POV]

This morning I woke up feeling agonies of regret suffocating my chest. If I recalled what happened yesterday, it could be the best thing that ever happened to me. But, I lose it. I slipped it away.

This body just wanted to lie down and pitying itself on the bed all day. I tried to call Jackson but he never showed up nor told me what happened between him and that man. Also Jaebum didn't say much about it either.

It's upsetting me that I'm in the blind side. I wish it didn't turn out like this.

A thick blanket wrapped around my body. Its warmth is very comfortable and sheltering, like it protected me from the cold chill of loneliness and miserable life. I feel I was going back to be a fetus, bend down my body feeling safe in my mother's womb.

I miss mom and dad.

How are you up there? Heaven must be fun, huh?

The sun has come radiating its sheen of light into the world through the window, yet there are only sheds of gloom that spread out to every corner of this room. I forced myself to wake up and I just sat there at the edge of my bed, thinking what should I do to throw away this negative feelings.

Dr. Choi once suggested me to paint to release my inner frustration. He said that it's better to pour our emotions into art or useful things. Considered it to be one of our exercise and part of therapy.

So far I've made so many paintings based on my random idea or feelings that occurred during at specific moments. I admitted it was a great idea.

By brushing it on a blank canvas, helping me to utter something that cannot be said in words.

I lifted up my body and dragged lazy steps into the kitchen. Maybe a cup of coffee would boost my spirit, at least.

It has been 3 years since my parents died and I'm still not used to the void space where there used to be a clanking sound of spoon and fork hit a plate every morning when we had breakfast. Or my mom's nag over a little spilled on dad's shirt when he rushed to leave while drinking his coffee. Or the laugh we shared when dad made a very dry joke at dinner just to break an awkward silence.

Sometimes Youngjae came to my house, helping me cleaned up when I just want to lock myself in my room. He'd bring a bunch of DVDs and foods and asked me to do movie marathon for whole day. He has his own way to help and support me.

He has been a great friend and he totally understands me. He never pushed me to talk yet he’s always be there. He knew that I would talk to him eventually when I'm ready.

But it has been 3 years and I was still not okay with this stifling emptiness when it's just on my own.

I hate our dinner table, because it reminded me of every episode of my family; the argument, the discussion, the jokes, the laughter, it happened on this very table in this small square room.

My parents mean everything to me. They are the ones who save me from this chaotic world. If my parents never showed up, I might be dead by now, whether at that ing orphanage or that one night on ing bridge.

.

I hate morning too.

Morning always makes my mind wandering around to the point I hate everything, including myself.

It was funny because usually people had it at night. But for me, morning is a time when I was snatched into ugly reality once I opened my eyes and I don't appreciate it one bit.

I walked into my working station holding my booster cup of coffee. The room wasn't big, but it's enough to store the entire collection of my paintings. I just stood in front of that blank canvas, sighed thinking how should I put my feelings down on it.

Sat on the stool chair, put down my coffee, then I took one brush that lay in a can beside my standing canvas. Ready to tell my story. I tried to acknowledge my feelings right now, but all I could think of was that man's face. I knew I was angry, disappointed, regret, you name it. But my mind strongly pulled me to think about him.

I want to capture his beauty once again.

I want to feel him.

The connecting gaze we had when we look into each other's eyes.

I don't care if it's just one-sided feeling, but I feel alive.

I started with black paint brushing across the canvas forming the shape of his face, then carefully drew his eyes trying not to tarnish the beauty beneath it. The eyes were the part I wanted to emphasize the most because they were my favorite.

I want it as perfect as the real one.

My hand tried to picture the warm gaze that he gave me last time with a single brush , although his eyes were already small but they got smaller when he smiled. I found it’s cute.

After that part was finished, I moved to draw his nose, his ears, then finally his lips. My hand startled a little bit when I thought about it.

Pink plump lips that could make everyone go crazy. So soft that I’m sure it’ll taste good when I kiss him. I wonder how it’d feel like to touch him, to hear him moan, or maybe nibbled his y bottom lip. Those imaginations are going wilder and dirtier and without me realized my face was already red and my body feels hot.

I shook my head slapping my naughty brain. It's embarrassing enough that I dare to visualize a stranger in inappropriate way.

Without hesitation yet carefully making line of the man's lips showed the person on the canvas was smiling. Beautiful smile I was longing for. Although my painting wasn't good but I tried to portray his ethereal aura was as close as possible to the said man. I put a slight soft to his hair, so it looked naturally falling down on his forehead and I added some raindrop hanged on the tip of his hair like when the last time he drenched in the rain.

This painting wasn’t enough to tell how amazing this man is, but at least it’s closer and quite similar to my memory of him. I stared at the rough brush of his face long enough, which led to my hand, moved on its own to his cheek then continue to the sideline of his face down to his chin and ended up to the paint of his lips.

Will I ever see him again?

The odds were 1 in over 50 million and that’s pretty slim.

If the fate is kind enough to bring him back to me, I promise I’ll be strong this time and will never let him go away ever again.

I put down all colors on my palette, there’re red, dark blue, purple, yellow, green, and orange. Now I just used my bare hand to give a color to the background around of my painting’s object.

First I applied red to all over the canvas. My hands were full of red roamed from every blank part to every corner of the canvas, didn’t leave a single spot untouched. I thought red just suited to my feelings right now and I just wanted to keep smearing and smearing it until I was satisfied.

It was as red as my rage, as red as my desire, as red as the burning fire within me, and as red as the red flag alerted to something upheaval coming up.

Still with red paint covered up my hand, I put dark blue to the inner background closer to the object. It gave some kind of sad and fear vibe to the painting. Then I continued smearing all the color with a brush of yellow, somewhat orange and purple, and a little tint of green.

Just putting a slight cream color touches on the man’s skin to finish the painting, and now it’s done.

I took steps back eyeing the whole picture from a bit far while I was wiping my messy hand on to the used cloth. Well I could say that it’s just looked like an abstract made by an amateur, but somehow the relieved and satisfied feeling came out of my system.

I sipped my coffee while checking on my phone and saw a few missed calls coming from Youngjae. I guess I was so into the zone since I didn’t hear any rings at all.

From.

Me

Hi, what’s up? sorry I didn’t look at my phone.

From.

Choi Youngjae

Hyung!! I’ve called you so many times. Where are you?

From.

Me

Home. I just finished my painting, didn’t hear your call. Sorry.

Why? Where are you btw?

From.

Choi Youngjae

Oh, is there something happened, Hyung?

I’m still at Uni. My class was canceled and I was thinking to meet you somewhere since I don’t know where to go and I don’t want to go home either.

I turned to see the clock and it’s already 1 pm. Maybe going outside will make me feel a little bit better, but somehow half of me cried for cuddliness withwarm blanket and comfortable bed. Too lazy to go out.

From.

Me

Nah, Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.

I don’t know, Youngjae. I kind of feel like staying at home, but going out sound good too. I don’t know.

From.

Choi Youngjae

Aay~ don’t lie.

I know there’s something going on right now. You can’t lie with me Hyung, I know you too well. Kkkkk…

I have coupons for free burger and maybe we could go to the movies after that or just strolling around. Or maybe I could go to your house if you want. But just tell me if you want to be alone. Whichever it is, that’s fine by me.

I stood there thinking long enough whether I should go or not. My thumbs were wandering through the keypad and my brain tried to make up its mind.

Well, it’s true, I could use some fresh air to ease my sulkiness and I knew Youngjae could be the best happy-pill to my awful day. His jokes and laughter somehow contented me.

Maybe today would be a good day after all, that’s why I just have to get my out from this black hole.

From.

Me

Meet me at the park. Give me 15 minutes ok? See you there.

******

[Jackson’s POV]

Okay… You can call me a traitor, a bad friend, a back-stabber, or whatever rude names you could think of, but I don’t care.

For once in my life, finally, I could reach to something real. Something that’s j