“Good evening, Mr Cho.”

I nodded as I walked into the art gallery. My mother wanted me to come to her regular art gallery and get for her a piece of art as a gift for a good friend of hers as I was nearby.

Art bores me. Honestly speaking, I mean, how is that piece of painting even interesting in the first place? It’s just slabs of paint being put together on a piece of white background. Sometimes, I look at it; I think my own painting can fare much better than those artists. After all, people are just going to take it and hang it somewhere in the house, that’s the only purpose it serves, isn’t it? Taking a wall space. Shesh.

And paintings aren’t cheap as well. I looked across the art gallery. Each one of them looked the same. I guess I just picked one that looked the best to me.

“Mr Cho, we just included a latest artist into our art gallery, if you don’t mind, why not you take a look at the pieces, it has been getting quite a good response so far.” The owner of the art gallery said.

“A new artist?” I asked.

“Yeah, even though it’s not a very famous artist, the pieces are quite wonderful and many of my regular customers have been praising the collection.” He replied.

I nodded as I followed the owner to another side of the art gallery. Normally new artists in the industry don’t have much recognition; I wondered how did this artist rose in fame.

I took one look at the first art piece and I knew what he meant immediately.

I looked around the small display area. Each and every art piece by this new artist gave out an emotion that none of the previous paintings did to me. It was like there was a story behind each painting and I was curious enough to want to know more about it.

There was one abstract one that I found interesting. For the first time in my life, I actually complimented on a painting. And it was the most expensive piece out of the collection.

I pointed to it, “I’ll take that one. Please wrap it up for me and send it to this address. From my mother.” I said as I passed him an address.

“Miss Lee will be so glad.” The owner said.

“Miss Lee?” I echoed.

“Yeah, it’s a very young painter. You can read about her background information at the entrance of our art gallery.” He said.

After making payment, I walked out to the entrance. Like what the owner said, there were background information and pictures of the various artists that they showcased there in the art gallery.

“There, Miss Lee Rae Young’s background information.” The owner pointed out for me.

“Lee Rae Young?” I repeated. That name sounded so familiar to me.

“There is no photograph?” I looked to the rest, each artist had their photograph plastered next to the paragraph of words only this artist didn’t.

“Oh, she doesn’t want people to know how she looks like.” He commented.

“Why? Is she not attractive?” I jokingly added.

“Oh nooo. Miss Lee is a very beautiful young lady. I have no clue why she doesn’t want her photograph up there.” The owner continued. “A very attractive young lady. I wouldn’t be shock if she says she is attached.”

“Lee Rae Young? Does she wear spectacles and braces?” I asked.  

The memory of my childhood flowing back into my mind. “Braces? And spectacles? No. Do you know her?” The owner asked me.

“The name just sounds familiar that’s all.”

“Let me see your painting!” This little girl shouted as she snatched my painting.

“Ooooh! It’s so ugly!” She said with a smile.

My heart crashed as the girl sitting next to me in my kindergarten class said that my painting was ugly.

From then on, I hated art class. Who was she to judge my art talents? Her words stung so badly and I never looked at art the same way anymore. I detest it so much.

Lee Rae Young’s POV

The paintbrush swept across the canvas as I held it, looking across the horizon and stared at the sunrise. It was the same routine every week. Every Saturday, I made it a point to come to the beach and catch the sunrise.

Ever since I was a little girl, my parents made it a point for us to catch the sunrise, especially on weekends when everybody was free. The moment I could hold something in my hand, my mother said I was already a painter in the making. She never once stopped me from doing whatever I wanted; she went ahead and opened my world to the lovely vibrant colours of paint.

 My father on the other hand was a bit rigid, he didn’t like the sound of making a living out of paint; he saw no future in that industry and forced me to study something more practical like business studies which I had utterly no interest in. To appease him, I went to university to study that but I couldn’t take it within the first term and change my major; to the school of arts. He was furious and reprimanded my mother that she had spoilt me rotten and getting me into such a miserable industry.

My mother had her way of dealing with my father and got him to read articles about painters. He wasn’t too happy about the whole situation but eventually he decided to support his daughter anyway. I know it isn’t easy for him to accept that his daughter can make a living out of painting but I have been proving it to him for the last few years.

I won’t say that I am a very famous painter but I can live quite comfortably with the money that I earned from painting.

Every month, I paint a few art pieces and place them in an art gallery which displays them for sale. When I first started out, I understand how my father felt, it wasn’t easy but I got through that period and now I’m getting recognition for a number of art pieces that I have done.

I even once designed a logo for a local school’s carnival and an orphanage’s fun fair banner. A few of the sponsors at the orphanage saw my design and took it upon themselves to get to know me better.

“Lee Rae Young!” A voice called out.

My brush stopped at the center of the canvas as I turned my head slightly to the sight.

“Mother.” I greeted her.

“You could have waited for us! Your father and I thought you were at the other side of the beach and we went all the way to the other side to look for you.” My mother complained.

“Whoopsie. I thought I told you guys to turn in at the second carpark, you would see the pavilion? I like the view from this angle.” I said as I waved at my father who was panting.

“See, I told you it was the second carpark. Your mother insisted it was the first one so we were right at the other side.” My father whined.

“Come, sit over here by the bench. I brought a big flask of coffee.” I told my parents as I picked up the painting palette and started packing.

“You’re packing already?” My mother asked.

“ Yeah, the sun has risen.” I commented.

“Hello. I brought two new art pieces today.” I said as I passed them to the owner of the art gallery.

“Hello Miss Lee. Just yesterday, a young man came and bought your most expensive painting.” He said as we walked to my display section in the art gallery.

“Really?” I replied, astonished.

“Yes. He is one of our regular customers’ only son. Quite a good catch, I heard he is some famous singer or something.” He smiled.

“Ohhh. No thank you. You have a daughter too, you can introduce them!” I said as I looked around the display section.

My pieces were selling out quite fast. I was satisfied.

“You really paint well. Through lessons and training or was this just an inborn talent?” The owner asked me.

“Thank you for your compliment. There are better painters out there, I’m sure of that. I’m still not at their level. Some people say I’ve been trained, some people say it’s an inborn talent but my parents and I feel that it’s a gift from God. I paint to tell people stories about myself and about the world.” I replied.

The owner nodded, smiling, “I told Mr Cho that you were a very attractive young lady and he seems quite interested.”

“Oh? Thank you! Thank you for your praises but really, it’s alright.”

“Are you attached, Miss Lee?”

“No, I’m not. However, I’m not interested in such relationships right now. I want to focus more on my paintings.”

“I understand, I understand. There’s just one more thing. Can I ask you a question? Most of the customers asked me and therefore I want to ask you.”

“Go ahead.” I said.

“Why don’t you put a photograph of yourself at the entrance with your background information?” The owner of the art gallery asked.

“I just want to keep my image a secret. Because being secretive sells.” I smiled. 

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Hey readers *waves*

So this is the first chapter! How is it? 

I'm actually on holiday so I can write for a super long time! Heh. I wanted to take a break after 'Recording The Memories' ended but I had this inspiration like just this morning and I decided to start a new story! So here it is! I really hope you guys will enjoy it! 

Oh! From now on, I shall just put two images of Kyuhyun (GIF or photograph) ! I realized that I spammed alot the previous time and when I reached the end, I couldn't keep track of the ones I posted. So yeah! Don't worry, I've got alot of nice ones that will be shown to you in every chapter! ^^

Heheheheeheheheh. COMMENT, SUBSCRIBE, UPVOTE! 

Xoxo.