Art had never quite been his forte — well, performing had been, but not using pencil and paper to create something that looked presentable enough to be proud of. Out of every elective given as an option his senior year in high school, Yugyeom had decided that Visual Art was the easiest on the list.

Simple: it was just a filler class that would give him enough credits at the end of the year to graduate.

Each day passed by exactly the same, almost. The teacher would set up a still-style in the middle of the classroom, hand out sheets of printer paper and make them recreate it with their medium of choice. Yugyeom never actually tried to make his pieces decent, only drug his pencil across the blank space until it was considerably full enough that his teacher would think 'he tried'. Sitting through spills about 18th century architects and Impressionists nearly an hour and a half each day became way too boring way too quickly.

That is until a teachers aid, a second year art student at the local University, was assigned to his particular period.

He hadn't expected the assistant to be as good looking as he was — bright red hair falling against his forehead like he was the main character strai