Be My Muse? (Hyunjin x Reader)
Word count: 14.3k
Genre+ Warnings??: Romance, slice of life, slight angst?? (happy ending)
Synopsis: Hyunjin, a famous idol who secretly lives a second life as the anonymous painter. While struggling through a severe artist's block, he meets Y/N, a longtime fan of his artwork who has no idea who he really is. Hyunjin finds himself falling for her while hiding more and more of the truth. Inspired by Y/N, his creativity returns stronger than ever, but so does the guilt of his deception. When he realizes he can no longer build a relationship on secrets, Hyunjin must risk everything by revealing his true identity and confessing his feelings, hoping that the person who became his greatest muse will still choose to stay by his side. A/N at the end!!
Hwang Hyunjin is a member of the popular boy group Stray Kids. He's an idol, loved by many. However, he is also a famous anonymous painter in his free time. Art has always been a constant in his life. On tour, he paints his surroundings when he is bored, and when he sees a pretty setting, he loves to capture it forever in a painting rather than a picture on his phone. Art is truly his second love...but the thing is, no one knows just how much. Sure, he posts some of his pieces on Instagram from time to time. Stays know he enjoys art and is great at it, but what they don't know is that Hyunjin submits art pieces he has never posted about to art exhibits and competitions under an alias. He then goes undercover at these exhibits and soaks in the praise quietly. He wishes he could be more open about accepting the compliments or also be known for his work, but the company and the boys all said that if Stay found out, they would swarm the art functions, which would suck for him to no longer have a safe space. It's for the best, he guesses.
It's not like it matters right now anyway. Here he is, at a random pop-up watercolor-and-oil-painting exhibit, where he would have applied a piece to... if he wasn't having artist's block. Still, he came in the same baggy, worn-down jeans and big black cardigan that drowns him with his diva-licious sunglasses to hide his identity. He also has his earphones in both ears, he wants to be low-key and enjoy the gallery without any interruptions, so tuning out the world makes him feel like people won't approach him as much. Who knows...maybe he will finally get some inspiration again after who knows how long.
Hyunjin slowly analyzes a painting of a beach that looks like it is the epitome of sorrow and turmoil. The waves and sky were dark, the clouds were sharp, and the waves were huge. The music that he's listening to just deepens the experience for him, he feels how dramatic this piece is. Something about it calls to him. Hyunjin moves on and continues to walk around the gallery, looking at the fine details and wishing he could talk to the artists so he could try to replicate their techniques when he gets home, just for practice, because again, he just can't find it in his soul to actually create a piece right now, so he thinks it's best to just focus on the craft at the moment. After an hour of blasting music in his ears, they started feeling sore. He was making an adjustment when he heard someone say his name. He froze and then slowly turned because the name that was said wasn't the one he was known by and used to, but the name he uses for his art. But how? How could anyone know that it is him? Even the people who work these kinds of functions don't know who he is, and this time he didn't even enter anything in...could it be a ssaseng that somehow figured out his alias? He looks around, but no one is looking at him.
"Pardon, miss, can you repeat that?" A lady who was working this event was leaning closer to a younger woman whose back was towards Hyunjin, to him, she seemed a little shy. "Oh, uh- I was just wondering if you had any submissions from Samuel H?"
Oh.
So, she's a fan, but not of Stray Kids Hyunjin...but the other me. Well, there is a chance that she could still be a stalker, maybe, but if not, it would feel nice knowing that I am appreciated for more than my looks. Like, I know people like my work, but to hear someone seeking it out, hoping to see it themselves- just wow, my heart feels giddy! Shit, I feel bad...
"I am terribly sorry, but we did not get any submissions from Samuel H. It's actually been a while since the last time anyone has received his artwork. "The glimmer in the younger woman's eyes seemed to dim as the older lady explained the situation. "Oh, I see, thank you...Do you uh happen to know him?" The lady chuckled. "God, I wish. I'm a fan too, you know, honestly, I don't think anyone does know him or ever will, that's just how some artists are, you know?" The younger woman nodded, and yeah, Hyunjin felt so bad. Not only is he letting himself down by not reigniting his spark, but he is seeing in real time the effect his art has on others, he is letting them down too, and he can't do a thing about it. "I'm sorry to have burst your bubble, miss. I do hope you still enjoy the rest of the gallery, though. "The lady bows slightly and wanders off. The younger woman turns and jolts, and so does Hyunjin.
Oh shit, she's gorgeous, but she knows I was just watching her. Should I say something or move on? I have to say something, right? What do I say without scaring her off!? "So, you're also a fan of Samuel H?" This woman's eyes light up again, and her elegant smile beams at me with such passion. She does reel it in and takes a breath, though, and starts to murmur. " Ah, yes, huge fan." She sways slightly side to side. "Me too." Hyunjin smiles.
"So how long have you been keeping up with his work?" I wonder because I started this during the survival show to help with the burdens of being a trainee, so yeah, it has been a while. "Oh, I have been a fan since his first series. The ones with the cute dog." Damn, she's known and been a fan of my art for like the last six years...why though, I mean, I can see why people liked my Kkami series, but it was before my alias started getting more traction, and was it really enough to keep her seeking out my art throughout the years? "What about you, hm?" Shit, I feel like now that she's asked me, I can't seem to remember a single thing I have ever painted. Why does this always happen to me when people ask me the question I just asked them, and why can't I ever have a response ready!? Should I say I am a newer fan or an older one? Which one seems less suspicious to say even?
"Oh yeah, the Kkami series was great...I saw his art out and about before he came out with those paintings, but I didn't start getting into his work until a few paintings after, the one titled...'Rusting Roses' really stood out to me." Oh my god, why am I lying? I need to shut up. There was no reason for me to come up with so much bullshit, but also, why am I worried so much? Is it because she's pretty and a fan? The woman gasps and taps my arm excitedly, "That piece is my lockscreen!" Sure enough, it was. "I really like that piece too, it can be interpreted in so many ways, but what I really want to know is what Samuel was thinking and feeling when he was working on it." Oh, that's right, I never made an artist statement...that painting, when I made it, I wasn't in the best place. I was going through a rough patch with the members at the time and was feeling like they would've been better without me. I didn't know if I could write a statement, being so vulnerable and actually verbalizing my words. That time around, I just..." let my art speak for its tragic self."
"Pardon?" She glanced at me and tilted her head. "Oh- I was just thinking that he was letting the art speak for itself, sometimes it's better to not know." She smiled, "I can see where you're coming from, ugh, I wish I wasn't so curious about why he made that piece, it's eating me alive!" I laughed at that. She intrigues me, I don't normally do this, but-
"Have you been upstairs yet?" She shook her head. "Would you like to walk around the rest of the exhibition with me?" Her brows rose, and she seemed to flush a bit- hm, cute. "Yeah, I'd like that...uh..." She reached her hand outwards...wait, does she want my name...I usually use Sam in public, but I don't think now is a good time for that, let alone Samuel- Hyun, say something! "Jin! And you are?" "Y/N." Our hands shake, and her hands are so warm, it's comforting. How can someone's hand create this feeling? Its energy is spreading and reaching my heart. I let her be the first to let go. "Shall we go then, Y/N?" "Yes, let's!"
The second floor of the gallery was quieter than the first, the dim lighting was softer and warmer somehow, and Hyunjin found himself slowing his pace unconsciously just to stay closer to her. Then, Y/N would occasionally lean closer to paintings without realizing she was drifting even more into his space. Every time she did, Hyunjin caught traces of her perfume, something sweet and addictive, and each time he inhaled, he felt like swooning. What surprised him most was how easy talking to her was.
Usually, when I converse with others, I feel like I'm performing. I had mastered that skill after years of interviews, but this felt different. There was no pressure to be entertaining or polished. Well, she also spoke carefully, thoughtfully, like she genuinely examined everything before saying it aloud. It was refreshing not to be observed so thoroughly and not be the only one talking, it didn't feel one-sided or like the wall I normally have is up. The farther we wandered through the gallery, the more I realized I was no longer paying attention to the exhibit as much. Normally, I would stand in front of a painting for several minutes, quietly dissecting the layering techniques, the composition choices, and relating my life to it, but now I kept getting distracted by her. The way her face changed depending on what she was looking at. Some paintings made her narrow her eyes thoughtfully, while others softened her entire expression, like she was stepping directly into the artist’s emotions rather than simply observing them from afar. And gosh, the way her lips would quiver or turn down and even pout- God, she is truly stunning.
The two of us slowly drifted toward another section of the exhibit, this one filled with watercolor still lifes. At some point, we had begun walking shoulder to shoulder naturally. I don't know when it started, but when I realized my body jolted and I felt warm, I wanted to step back. Well, no, I didn't, her warmth is captivating, but it felt like that would be the polite thing to do. However, she didn't seem to mind or even notice, I hope. I'm going to be selfish and stay close. We were close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushed against my cardigan every few steps. The rhythm of this fleeting touch calmed me down.
“This one feels like grief,” she whispered.
I glanced at the canvas, a dark, dusty dresser with broken glass and beaded necklaces, as well as a napkin with a lipstick mark left on it. It was definitely moody, but it felt more aggressive to Hyunjin. “How can you tell what this artist is trying to convey?” She looked up at me with a small laugh. "I never said that's what the artist's intentions were, I was saying what it felt like to me. Isn’t that the point of art?” I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out because the terrifying thing was that she was unknowingly talking to the exact person who used to paint that way. Every piece I had ever made was emotion first, technique second. Well, that was before I started getting in my head, thinking I needed people to understand my work better.
I swallowed and looked away before I accidentally exposed myself with my expression alone.
As we moved into the final room upstairs, the crowd had thinned enough that the entire floor felt hushed, and the music from downstairs barely reached us anymore. Y/N slowed near a small bench positioned in the center of the room and sat down carefully, still looking around at the surrounding paintings. “This has honestly been the best exhibit I’ve been to in a while,” she admitted quietly. I sat beside her, leaving just enough space to be polite even though some irrational part of me wanted to close it immediately. “Because of the art?” She turned toward me and gave me a once-over.
“Partly.” ...Oh.
The warmth rushing into my face was immediate and humiliating. Thank God the lighting in here was dim. Y/N smiled a little at my silence before looking back toward the paintings again. “I don’t usually talk to people at galleries.” I rubbed my hands along my sweaty palms. "Yeah, me neither..." but "... I'm glad I did this time." Y/N tucked her hair behind her ear and grinned at me. "Me too." She turned away from me to look at a piece, but all I could look at was her, and all I could think about was how I don't want this night-- this night with her to end. "Y/N, do you have Kakoa Talk?" "Huh? Oh yes, I do! Do you want to exchange information?" I held my phone out with much more trust than I normally would with anyone who is basically a stranger. "Yes, I would love that." The heartwarming smile she sent my way is something I want to capture and remember.
As we made our way downstairs, we both realized we were the only two left who weren't staff, and we quickly made our way to the exit. It was cold, and our breath flew into the air. "Which way are you headed?" Y/N pointed behind herself. Damn, it's not the same way. "I need to hurry, though, the last bus will be there soon." I need to hurry too, or my manager will be mad that I was out this late...But I can't just let her walk by herself late at night...It'll be fine if I'm a bit late, right? I'll just have Changbin Hyung cover for me or something. "Can I walk you to the stop?" Y/N's teeth were a little jittery, hm, cute. "Oh, Jin, you don't have to do that. It's late." I shrugged and lied. "I'm going the same way, really, it isn't a problem." She smiled and started walking to her stop. "If a gentleman insists." I chuckled and caught up to her.
It was quiet but comfortable and walking alongside her has made this chilly night somehow feel warmer. I kept (hopefully) sneaking glances at her, her hair in the moonlight was just so captivating to me. As we got to the bench for her stop, we only had a few moments before her bus pulled up. Before she went on, she turned to me. "It was really nice meeting and getting to know you, Jin." I just got a pain in my chest. She doesn't know me, for God's sake, the name I told her is a lie! "Well, I hope to hear from you soon." She got onto the bus. "Will do!" and the doors shut. Y/N took her seat as the bus squeaked and drove off. I waited till it was far enough that I could walk back the way I came.
The walk back to my car alone felt different in contrast to when Y/N was with me. Without her presence, I felt colder and like the moon and stars weren't as bright. Once I got to my car and got to warm up a bit, I sighed. I have a feeling she won't leave my mind for some time, but it would be crazy for me to hope she feels that same way. As I was about to make my way back home, my phone buzzed. I figured it would be Changbin or even my manager checking up on me, but it was something truly shocking instead.
Y/N: Hi Jin, I hope you got home safely. Good night!
The heat I get from my car does not do justice the way her text did at all. I reply,
Jin: I did! I hope you rest well, goodnight Y/N.
My phone RINGS this time, and the thought of her calling me startled me so much so that I dropped my phone, but was quick to pick it back up, only to see that it was Changbin who was calling me. "Hello-"
"YAH, where are you!? It's past curfew!" It's too late for him to be yelling like that, geez. "Hyung, I'm on my way home." He scoffs. "Ok, well, hurry up, Manager-nim is at Minnie and Lix's place, so I'd say you've got 30 minutes." "It's ok, Bin, I'll be there in 15." He grunts, "You better be, bye." The phone cuts off, and now I am engulfed in the silence. I'm lucky that since it's so late, there isn't any traffic, otherwise, I would have been late.
Entering my home after a long day was nice, but I felt like a part of me was unsatisfied. I don't want to admit what (who) I think the reason is, though. After our manager checked on us, Changbin and I headed to our rooms. As I'm getting ready for bed and decompressing, I have a feeling I will look back on this day with fondness.
As my blatant alarm so rudely wakes me up, I am already dreading today's schedule. Normally, I can get through these longer filming days just fine, but when I have a tough time sleeping through the night, forget it. What's worse is that I was tossing back and forth all night because I was thinking of Y/N, I kept replaying the times our bodies gently grazed one another and how beautiful her hair was in the moonlight. I wasn't just thinking about her looks, I kept replaying her words that hit my heart so deeply, it felt like she knew Samuel H more than I did. The way she interpreted art and never judged it was so refreshing, I can't stop thinking about it. It's obvious something is on my mind.
"HYUNG!" I blink a few times, and suddenly I remember I'm on set. Han was glancing at me with concern. "You good, jagiya?" I recollect myself and see that the other members are looking at me as well as the staff. "Oh yeah, I'm fine, sorry, can we continue the shoot?" Chan looks at me with a knowing look, which doesn't make any sense because, tch, what does he know? Chan turns to the staff, "Actually, can we take five? I think we could all use a break." We were given the green light, and the atmosphere of the set felt less heavy. "Sorry," I mumbled. "For what? I just need to use the bathroom." Chan started walking to the restroom while winking at me and sticking his tongue out. Guh, what a guy.
I thought that a break would help me lock back in, but I spent it trying to draw Y/N in my sketchbook. Keyword: trying. I didn't feel like I was doing her beauty justice, I was so focused on trying to get the look in her eyes just right that Minho had to snap his fingers in my face to get me to notice. "Hey, Pabo, break time's over." He glances down at my book and quirks his brow as I snap it shut. "My bad." Ok, I really have to snap out of it, the boys and crew need me. As we went through the day, I tried my best to stay focused on our content and photoshoots, but there were a few times my head ended up in the clouds, and the boys laughed at my spaced-out expressions in a few of our concept photos over dinner at Changbin and I's place. " This pic would have been PERFECT if you didn't make such a dumb face, Hyung!" Jeongin snorted while his eyes were crinkly. "And this one too, bro, I was mogging you hella, which is crazy cause you're the one who mogs," Felix said with a chuckle. "What's got you all worked up, though, hm?" Seungmin chimes in, and the rest of the boys are now all looking at me. Now I'm feeling nervous. "Is it because of that woman?" My head SNAPS to Minho as my eyes bulge out.
The room becomes loud with uproar from all the members. "Woman, what woman?" Chris says, shocked. Han is teasing me, "Hyung's gotta crush!" Felix is, too, "AWWW is our Hyunnie in LOVE?" "No way, what!?" Changbin is in awe. "So, it is?" Minho stated as if it were a fact. I laugh because "How on earth would you come to that conclusion?" Minho smirks and tosses my sketch book open and FACE UP onto the table where all the members can see my drawings of Y/N. I glance at it before I quickly leap across the table to get it, but all the other boys went after it too, and I was just in reach before Seungmin snatched it and took a look. "Wow, she's pretty." I leapt towards him, "Hey, give it back!" As I tried to reach for it, the boys were working against me, holding me and tossing the book around until each of them had a chance to look. I sighed and sat down to catch my breath, and Chan placed the book, now closed, in front of me.
"Sooo, what's her name, Hyunnie?" Chan teased as he poked my cheek. I turned away from him in embarrassment. "Oh, Hyung, don't be like that." Jeongin chirped. I look at them, "Her name is Y/N." I said with a sigh. The boys all murmur. "Where did you guys meet?" Changbin asked, raising his eyebrows while smirking. "When I went to that art exhibition." "YAH SO THAT'S WHY YOU WERE ALMOST LATE FOR CURFEW, CAUSE OF SOME GIRL!" Changbin yelled so much that all of us were affected by the volume. Chan shushed him, "Leave the man be, he's in love...right?" They all look at me, and now I feel hot all over and very sweaty. "I-I I don't know, ok! I met her not that long ago, and I don't know her too well, but...I truly have her on my mind all the time, so that's something, I guess." Minho laughs, "Tch, that something is love, pabo." The boys chuckle, but Felix, my angel, punches Minho's arm. " Hey, cut it out. He obviously doesn't know because he didn't come to us about it yet, you're the one who brought this up." The room stills, and it seems like Chan gained enough clarity to lock back in as our leader/father figure. "Oh, right, yeah, not cool, mate. Imma make you do extra workouts after practice for going through Hyunjin's stuff." Chan slaps his hand and has a decent hold on the back of Mino's neck. " I'm sorry, Jinnie," Minho said flatly, but with a smirk that proves to me he didn't actually mean it. "Whatever, it's probably a good thing you guys know. I've been distracted, and in limbo, maybe since I don't have this pressure of keeping these thoughts and feelings to myself, I won't be as affected at work...but still don't go looking in my sketchbook anymore."
The boys all nod. Changbin stretches and whines loudly, " Well, dinner was nice, but you all should go. I'm getting tired, and it's getting late." All the guys help clear the table and wash the dishes before heading out, leaving just Changbin and I to do our nightly routines. As I am charging my phone, I get a notification. It's a text message from Y/N!
Y/N: Hi Jin! Have you heard of this new pop-up gallery coming in next week? If you're interested in going, should we go check it out together? I'm free Thursday through Saturday.
She sent me a link, and as I explored the website, I saw the event details. Even if I wasn't interested, I still would like to go just to see her again. I checked just to make sure I had an opening at all and thankfully I do.
Jin: Hi Y/N! I am so down to go, I can do Saturday!
Y/N: Great see you then!
I want to learn more about her, but I don't want to ask things over text, tones aren't always blatant. I also just prefer getting to know people in person anyway. However, people in art exhibits tend to be more on the quiet side...
Jin: Do you think we could go to a cafe before or after?
Shit Hyun, was that too soon and headstrong?
Y/N: Yes, I would love that! Let's do it before.
Thank GOD Changbin is in the shower right now, or else he would have definitely heard my squeal. Geez, what is up with me? I'm taking laps in my room because my body can't handle all this excitement and nerves. I get to see her again, and not just in my mind but for real, a new memory will be made that I can look back on fondly.
I was sitting at the cafe nearly 20 minutes early. I just couldn't help it, and don't get me started on how long it took me to get my outfit just right. I wanted to look pretty for this...date?
No, it's not, well? Probably... maybe- no, definitely not. Is it crazy to say I want it to be? I don't know about that, but what I do know is that it isn't a date because I didn't ask Jin out in that kind of way...even though I regret not being forward about it. Hell, I barely know the guy, but that's why I wanted to see him again. I can tell his mind has thoughts that are swirling around, and I want to dive in and learn about him. He looks at art with such intense eyes, but unlike me, he never really said anything out loud, even though I could tell that, in his heart, he wanted to. When I did give my take about the pieces that we saw the first time we met, he looked at me as if I was speaking so profoundly, and I felt like he was listening to me so intently. All these other art enthusiasts have such a snobby vibe to them at times, and all the artsy boyfriends I've had before never took anyone else's perspective into consideration. Jin feels rare and different to those other men who think they know what art is...The thing is, though, I think Jin is missing something to him, like he thinks he doesn't know what art means. I again don't know him well, but I felt this energy as we walked through that gallery, and again his face says so much, and yet I can't depict what it means. Sure, I can interpret the artist's paintings, but I can't ever truly know what is going on inside someone's mind, I can only guess.
As I was dwelling on these thoughts, the bell to the cafe rang, and I glanced on instinct, and there he was. Jin, looking so handsome and a little out of breath. And honestly, with how attractive he looks right now, I feel breathless too. GAH Y/N, pull yourself together! You are just two friends?...
Acquaintances?...
Two...people, people who are meeting up for coffee and then exploring a gallery. When we locked eyes, he smiled at me, and his dimples were on full display. Oh my, he is just too precious, this isn't fair. How can any man be this...so... there's just so much about him that is handsome and kind-looking, as well as hot, how does he pull it off? Y/N, girl, you've got to stop. For all you know, he is already taken, and he is just looking for friendship, if that's what you could call this thing that could potentially start. Jin set his bag down and sat next to me. " I hope I didn't keep you waiting," he said, bowing. " Oh, not at all, no worries." He smiled sheepishly. "Good, I thought I was gonna be late." I glanced at the clock, he was also early- cute...that kind of made my heart flutter because, well, does that mean something? Well, no, it doesn't, some people are anxious like me and like to be early...Wait, is Jin going to clock that I was earlier than him, and will he think of it in that way too, that it means something? I mean, it does because I am down bad for him, but is he gonna think that as well? "Should we go order now?" Jin asked as he pulled me out of my thoughts that I don't want to dwell on. I truly am in a bind, between this handsome guy and my anxious thoughts. I keep getting distracted, I need to lock in.
Once we got our drinks and were at our table again, I noticed other things. The way he listened. The way he looked so thoughtful before speaking. The way his eyes seemed to absorb every detail around him. At moments, it felt like he was looking for my soul in mine, which didn't feel as scary as one would think because it didn't feel like he was looking at me in a bad way, but in a way of wanting to understand...but maybe I'm being hopeful and just reading into things again. I can't help my thoughts from forming, but I have been able to subdue the anxiety enough to focus on what he is saying, thankfully. A brief silence settled between us.
Not awkward. Just...quiet. Comfortable.
"So," I asked, wrapping my hands around my drink. "Have you been to many galleries lately?" His expression shifted immediately, like I had asked about something important. "A few." His smile softened. "I keep hoping one of them will surprise me." Something about that answer felt bigger than what he was actually saying. "Have they?" He thought for a moment. Then he looked directly at me. "One did." My heart nearly launched itself across the table. Oh...Oh no. Surely, he wasn't- he didn't mean- no... No way...Not in THAT way. I was definitely reading too much into that. Right? I took a sip of my drink to hide. I couldn't trust what kind of face I could have been making if I didn't. The stupid smile threatening to appear on my face was becoming increasingly difficult to control. Thankfully, Jin seemed nervous as well. Which was oddly reassuring. Unless he is just shy or something...but he wasn't shy when we first met, just reserved, but isn't everyone?
We spent the next hour talking. Art exhibits. Favorite paintings. Good artist statements...Terrible artist statements. Whether abstract art was genius or an elaborate social experiment. At one point, I laughed so hard I accidentally snorted. I immediately covered my face. "Oh, my God." Jin was laughing too. Damn it. "No, that was great." "No, it wasn't." "It was." "It absolutely wasn't." His dimples appeared again. "It was cute."...I said I wouldn't overthink things anymore, so I am just going to leave that statement alone (I am malfunctioning). As the conversation continued, I started noticing something strange. Jin knew an awful lot about painting, not just casually, not just the way someone who appreciated art would. He understood techniques, saying terms I have never heard of and going into details about Materials, brushwork, and composition. Even the way he described emotions in paintings sounded different. It felt more personal, like he understood and knew the process from an insider's perspective. "You paint, don't you?" I blurt out. That made him freeze. He nods, "A little." "A little? You talk about it with such admirance and passion, like you've been doing it forever."
His gaze dropped to the table. "It's just a hobby." Something told me there was more to that story. But whatever it was, he clearly wasn't ready to tell it. So, I let it go. Instead, I found myself talking about Samuel H again. Which is a bit embarrassing. At this point, Jin probably thinks I am obsessed...Maybe I was...Just a little. "I wonder what happened to him," I said absentmindedly as I traced the edge of my cup. "He just disappeared." The warmth in Jin's expression faded slightly. He looked away from me and stirred his drink solemnly. "He'll come back," he said, turning back at me. The certainty in his voice surprised me. I held his stare with my own. "You think so?" He nodded once. "Yeah." For some reason, his answer felt less like a guess and more like a promise. And I found myself believing him. Nothing beats the power of hopeful fans. The conversation drifted elsewhere after that, but every now and then I'd catch him looking at me. Like he was trying to memorize something. The realization sent a strange flutter through my stomach. Because if I was being completely honest with myself...I was doing the exact same thing.
Leaving the café felt strangely difficult. Not because I was eager to leave. Quite the opposite, actually. I was so caught up in her, and the conversation had flowed so naturally that I hadn't even realized how much time had passed until Y/N glanced at the clock and gasped. "We should probably head over before we're accidentally late." Now we were walking side by side down the sidewalk, the afternoon sun hanging low enough to cast long shadows ahead of us. The gallery was only a few blocks away, yet I found myself wishing it were farther. A lot farther. Maybe an hour farther. Maybe in another city entirely...Anything to make this walk last longer. Y/N was telling me about a museum exhibit she'd traveled to see a few years ago, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. God. I loved listening to her talk. Not because she was saying anything particularly groundbreaking. Not because every story was fascinating. I liked the way she spoke about even the most mundane things with such gratefulness and fulfillment. I just liked hearing her thoughts. Every little thing she said felt like a new piece to a puzzle, I want to put it all together to see the whole thing. As we were about to get to the crosswalk, the light changed, but I didn't notice. I was about to keep going, but I felt a tug on my sleeve and felt the wind of a car pass me. I turned, and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. She let go of my hoodie, and we were able to cross. After the embarrassment left, I replayed that moment over and over in my head. My heart flutters because her hold on me felt so strong.
The walk continued, and the more we chatted, the more I realized something. The entire time we'd been talking, she had asked me questions. Questions that made me feel like she genuinely wanted to know me. Not the surface-level interviews or small-talk kind of ones, or questions that gave me the sense that someone wanted to network with me because I could be useful. The realization settled somewhere deep inside my chest. This feeling is refreshing, and this is the most normal I have felt in so long, I didn't even know I wanted to feel that way. By the time we reached the gallery entrance, I almost forgot why we'd come in the first place and where we were. Y/N practically bounced beside me. "I've been looking forward to this all week." The excitement in her voice made me smile. "I can tell." I chuckled, and she pointed an accusatory finger at me. "You're judging me!" She said as if it was a fact, but, "I'm not." "No, you are though." "I swear, truly, I'm not!" I crossed my heart and put my hands up in defense. There was a beat of us just looking at each other, and then we both let out a laugh at how ridiculous we were being.
Once we got inside, we both calmed down and tried to not talk too loudly while looking around. As we kept looking around, we eventually didn't even talk, we were silently looking at these beautiful paintings in each other's company, and it didn't feel awkward one bit. Usually when I come to these things, the silence is so deafening I can't help but wear my headphones to keep the static from driving me crazy, but now I don't feel or think these things at the moment, I feel comfortable with her presence next to me. After going through a few different rooms, they came across one with brighter lights and soft music playing. The room was lined with walls covered in tons of different chalk drawings by other visitors, however, only Y/N and I were the only visitors in the room right now. There was a sign in the middle of the room encouraging the visitors to draw anything and everything. "Oh, Jin, should we draw something too?" Y/N asks excitedly. My stomach drops, I don't really make art in front of others that often, and when I do, the pressure gets to me. I also felt like I hadn't been able to draw anything meaningful in months. I feel like Y/N can see the anxiety radiating off me. "You also make art too, why do you look nervous?" She chuckles as she tries to lighten my mood. "It's harder to make something when you're being told to," I say honestly, which I think took her aback for a second. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jin, we don't have to." Crap. I said that too coldly, and her frown made me feel worse dread than the idea of drawing. I backpedaled quickly. "No- I want to, I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean it like that...it's just that I've been dealing with artist block these days and it's been bugging me for a while." It felt good to admit this out loud to someone else, especially since she looked at me with such understanding. "Ah, so that's why you make that face." I blink. "Huh, what face?" She laughs. " Sometimes when we are talking about art, you have this longing, brooding look. I've been wondering why you seemed so in your head. I was confused because you said you were an artist, you come to these galleries, and yet at times you don't seem peaceful but frustrated." Wow, she read me like a book, right on the nose. How does she just know and see me so easily? I feel like I've made sure to not let many get close enough to be able to know me like that, but she easily slipped through the cracks. I just stood there stunned, not entirely sure what to say. Y/N doesn't say anything either she just took my hand, which feels right, like something that always should have been a thing but also so electrifying. She leads me to the bucket of chalk and grabs two pieces. One blue, one yellow. She hands me the yellow chalk.
"We're not making art, Jin," she crouched down, and I followed while I quirked my brow at her. "We're leaving evidence." She smirked. "Evidence of what?" I let out a confused chuckle. "Of us being here. Look, this is just for fun, Jin, and I mean it. Look, have you seen the hundreds of drawings here? They're not Picasso by any means." She's right, I see tons of stick figures, some hearts, what I think could be a dog, some profanity, and people bringing up social issues. There are some cute and decent drawings too, but Y/N is right this is low stakes. No one knows who I am, and since no one is even in this room right now, no one will judge me. My shoulders loosen slightly. She turns to the wall, and I look too. There's a blank spot, and we both just stare for a moment. My shoulders tense up again as I feel this familiar frustration that creeps into my mind and body. My mind is just as blank as the wall in front of me. My hands are frozen, I hate this. I hate that something I've loved my entire life suddenly feels impossible. I hate that every blank surface feels like it's judging me. I hate that- "What are you thinking about?" I turn to Y/N, who is still looking at the wall, contemplating. I look down at the chalk in my hand. "Nothing good." Her expression softens. "You know..." She starts drawing a small flower. "It's okay if it's ugly." I let out a snort. "You say that because you're not the one stressing about it." She gasps dramatically. "Excuse you." Before I can react, she reaches over and draws a tiny smiley face on the back of my hand. I stare at it. Then at her. Then back at the smiley face. "Did you just vandalize me?" She just laughs, and I can't help but join in as well. She pats my arm and starts shushing me, but we keep laughing, just a bit softer now. God. How does she do that? How does she keep pulling me out of my own head? The knot in my chest loosens another fraction. Y/N goes back to her flower, and without thinking, I finally put chalk to the wall. A single line. Then another. Then another. I don't plan it. I don't force it. My hand just moves. I draw a small window. Then light spilling through it. Then flowers climbing around the frame. Simple. Nothing impressive. But mine. Something warm settles in my chest. I feel content, it isn't that bad for a drawing with chalk.
"Look at you." I glance over. "You're doing the face again." I groan. "Apparently I have a lot of faces." She is the only one who points it out, other than the boys, though. "You do. That one's different, though." My eyes narrow. "And what does this one mean, expert?" She hums dramatically while pretending to analyze me. Then she smiles. "It means you forgot to be frustrated." She's right, I had. Sitting here beside her, I forgot. I forgot about the pressure, the expectations, the blank canvases waiting for me at home. I forgot every failed sketch and unfinished painting. Every time I stared at a canvas hoping inspiration would magically return. I forgot all of it. Y/N finishes her drawing and leans back to admire it. I look over. It's a little scene of two people sitting in a gallery looking at the same painting. Simple, sweet, and warm. My chest swells because it feels like she drew us, but I'm too nervous to point that out in case it isn't. "That's nice." "Thanks." Then she points at mine. "I like yours too." I look away quickly, embarrassed. "Really?" "Really." The room falls quiet again. Not awkward. Never awkward. The soft music continues playing overhead. I stare at our drawings. I see that Y/N signed hers. I look at mine and see a spot where I could sign it. Habit takes over. My chalk moves automatically.
S. A. M-
The letters are already there before my brain catches up. My entire body freezes. Shit. I quickly rubs the chalk with my finger and try again
H. Y. U- FAH freaking pabo, Hyunjin, get it together, man. I erase it again, and my heart is pounding so hard I can hear it. Y/N glances over. "You okay?" I quickly write Jin. I look at her. Then at the wall. Then back at her. "...Yeah." She studies me for a second. Then nods. Whatever suspicion I feared never arrives she doesn't press me further. Instead, she smiles softly, she turns back toward her drawing, and I find myself staring at her profile. I admire the way the light makes her hair shine, the proud, happy look on her face while she looks at her piece. I want to capture her in this moment. She seems to not be paying any mind to me, so I snap a quick photo. I feel bad because I didn't ask, but then a new realization popped into my mind, I took the picture because I wanted to paint her when I got back home, and that stunned me. I want to paint her. Not because she's beautiful, though she is. Not because I have a crush. Though that problem is rapidly getting worse. I want to paint her because she feels like she can convey everything effortlessly, and she looks like she understands your soul... And for the first time in months, I can almost envision a painting.
The rest of the gallery went by in a blur. Usually, I am attentive and analytical, jotting things down on a notepad, looking at an artist's work up and down, left and right, but I could barely take my eyes off Y/N. She can read me so easily, and yet it isn't an invasive feeling, it feels natural. I want to know her just as well someday. I get pulled out of my thoughts as we near the exit of the gallery. There is a small table with prints and keychains and other cute trinkets that resemble pieces from the gallery. I nudge Y/N gently. "Should we get something?" Y/N beams, "OMG, yes, we totally should!" We survey the stand. I spot this cute pink flower keychain, and as I reach out to grab it, Y/Ns hand reaches for the blue flower keychain next to it. We both look up. "Ha, good taste," Y/N says as she picks hers up. I laugh as we go to pay, the lady ringing us up looks at us as she is scanning our items. As I reach for my wallet, I see that Y/N is reaching for hers too. " I got it," I say quickly as I tap my card on the reader. Y/N just looks at me with wide, blinking eyes and lets out a scoff.
The lady ringing us up laughs sweetly, "You know, these are actually our most popular item with couples." She hands us our keychains without a clue as we both freeze. I know why I froze, but why is Y/N stiff? Did she not like that? Is it just a common, awkward thing that always warrants this response from people who aren't couples… or is she feeling how I feel? Something comes over me, and before my brain can stop me, I hear myself say, "Good thing we picked the best ones then." I chuckle, externally, but internally I am freaking out, because why on earth would I do something like that? The lady laughs, "Have a nice day, you two," and she winks, oh god. I am honestly too nervous to look at Y/N now, but I hear a soft laugh from her. Not a nervous laugh. Not an uncomfortable one. A genuine one. Which somehow makes everything worse... Or better...I haven't decided. We step away from the stand, both of us examining our new keychains with far more interest than we needed to. The flower swings gently from Y/N's fingers, and the matching one hangs from mine...
Matching... Nope. Not thinking about that....Not at all.
As we make our way toward the exit, I catch Y/N smiling to herself. "What?" She immediately looks up. "Hm?" "You're smiling." She side-eyes me. "So are you." I quickly look away while she laughs. By the time we step outside, the sun is setting, and the warmth is slowly fading away. Other people from the gallery drift past us on the sidewalk. Neither of us moves, though- not really, we're just standing there. Lingering. I knew exactly what was happening, and judging by the way Y/N kept glancing around instead of leaving, she knew too. Neither of us wanted the day to end. The realization made my chest ache. "I had fun today." Y/N's voice was soft. My smile somehow immediately widened even more. "I needed today more than I realized."
I really had so much fun. As if that adequately described what this day had meant to me. As if that explained how I feel like I am closer to getting over my artist's block. As if that explained the photograph sitting in my phone. Or the sketchbook page filled with attempts at drawing her. Or the fact that I already knew tonight would be spent replaying every conversation we'd had. "I mean it," she continues, gently spinning the flower keychain around her finger. "I'm really glad we came." My heart squeezes.
"Me too." I am.
I look at her, the gallery lights behind her cast a warm glow across her face. And for a second, I consider saying something more. Something honest. Instead, I swallow it down. "So..." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "We should do this again sometime...soon?" The hope in her voice is subtle. But it's there. And suddenly every worry I'd had about whether she actually wanted to spend time with me vanishes. But the relief lasts only three seconds before my brain reminds me of the reality. She wants to see Jin again. The version of me I've carefully constructed every time we've met. A version that's becoming harder and harder to separate from who I actually am because I feel the realest I have ever been while lying- how does that work? How is that fair?... I remembered who I was. I'm not Jin, I'm a coward. My stomach twists. I should tell her. I want to tell her now. The words sit right there, ready and waiting.
Instead, I smile- coward. "I'd like that." And I mean it. God, I mean it. That's the problem, I don't want this to end. I must have had some change in my expression because Y/N, the woman who can just read me so well, looks like her smile faltered for a moment too, only for a second. "So, we'll go over the details over text soon?" I hesitate. Far too long. "Maybe." Her eyebrows knit together. Maybe? Where did that come from? Five seconds ago, I would've rearranged my entire schedule for her or tried my best too. I force a smile. "I just need to check some work things first." Which isn't technically a lie, but it feels like one. "Oh, ok, well let me know." She looks disheartened, and I hate that I am the reason that she is. "I will," I say softly, not yet knowing if I actually will or not. We separate with uncertainty, and it hurts. Now that the sun is all the way down, all the warmth is too. I thought I would look back on this day in fondness, but now I feel like I will look back on it with regret.
Two weeks later.
I thought giving myself space would help. It didn't. If anything, it made everything worse. The first few days after the gallery, I convinced myself I was doing the right thing. I had schedules, filming, dance practice, and interviews. Plenty of things to keep my mind occupied...Except they didn't. Because every time something happened during my day, my first thought was somehow Y/N. A weird painting I'd seen online. A song lyric. A funny interaction between the members. Even now, I spotted the coffee shop we met up at while Chan was driving. I pulled out my phone before remembering that I was the one creating this distance. Our conversations over texts weren't nonexistent, which is somehow worse. I couldn't help but re-read our latest messages.
Y/N: Hope your week is going well :)
Me: Thank you. I hope yours is too.
Y/N: Just saw a painting that reminded me of one we talked about.
Me: Really? That's nice.
I am so upset with myself. I am being so dry, but I just can't ghost her, I can't. I saw she read it but hasn't responded, and who can blame her when I am being a dunce? I scroll up to look for our older messages, the ones where I felt the connection even through the screen. Why am I doing this, though? Yes, I miss her, but I also miss the me I was when I was with her too. I look back at the version of me who wasn't being a complete idiot and mourn how badly I have fucked up. Right now, I feel like a shell of myself just going on by day to day, feeling full of static. I couldn't even escape my reality in my sleep because all I dream about is her. It wasn't comforting in the slightest because my dreams weren't sending me warm fantasies, they just showed me losing her over and over, even though I never had her in the first place, but still. Honestly, this is the torment I deserve, even if my dreams were full of good ones, I would be disappointed when I woke up in the morning. I've been writing songs too, pages and pages of lyrics, some I even have shared with 3racha and worked on in the studio, others I can't get myself to dwell too much into because I can tell they are slightly concerned.
At some point, I started sketching again. At first, it wasn't intentional. I was sitting in the practice room waiting for everyone else when I absentmindedly started drawing. Five minutes later, her eyes were staring back at me from the page. I closed the sketchbook immediately. The next day, I drew her again...Then again...And again. The worst part was that it came naturally to me, effortless even. My mind knew where I wanted to go, so my hands followed. I wasn't struggling anymore. My artist block is almost completely gone. There is still a part of me that isn't letting myself go, though, I haven't painted on canvas yet because all I want to paint is her. And that terrified me because every time inspiration struck, it looked like her.
"Hyung." I looked up, and Felix was staring down at my sketchbook. Shit. I hadn't even noticed he'd walked in. His eyes moved from the drawing to me. Then back to the drawing, "...You drew her again." I snapped my sketchbook shut. "I draw lots of things." "You drew her six times this week." I glared at him, but he wasn't intimidated. He sat down beside me. For a while, neither of us spoke. Then quietly he said, "You don't seem happy." That didn't really catch me off guard. I've been trying my best to keep it together during our schedules, but I have been slacking again, this time around, though it wasn't because of infatuation but because of my longing. He stretched and yawned. "I thought when people liked someone, they looked happier." I stared at the floor. "I am happy." That lie sounded pathetic even to me. Felix gave me a look and bumped my shoulder. "No, you aren't..." His voice softened. "You look sad." Because I was.
I missed her.
A few days later, the truth finally came out. Changbin found another sketch...Then another...and a few more. Soon, all eight of them were sitting in the living room, staring at pages full of Y/N. The room was silent. "Okay." Chan sighed. I immediately hated that tone. "Okay, what?" "When are you going to tell us what's actually wrong?" "Nothing's wrong." Eight unimpressed faces stared back at me. Right. I have lived with them, spent many years together, they are my brothers. That wasn't going to work. Chan leaned forward. "Hyunjin." I looked away. "Have you actually told her how you feel?" "No." "Why?" The answer came out before I could stop it. "Because she doesn't know me." They all looked at me, confused, validly so. Han frowned. "What do you mean?" I rubbed my face. Suddenly exhausted and tired of bottling this all in...I know they just want to help me, so I need to push my pride aside and trust them. "She knows me as Jin." A beat passed. Then another. "...Huh?" I groaned. "She doesn't know I'm Hyunjin."
"WHAT?"
I swear the walls shook. Changbin looked personally offended. Felix nearly dropped his drink. Jeongin's mouth was hanging open. Minho blinked several times. "She doesn't know you're...you?" "No, she's a fan of my art too, and she doesn't know that either." "HYUNJIN!" The room exploded. I buried my face in my hands. By the time everyone finally calmed down, I was sitting on the floor trying to explain how everything spiraled so far out of control. And somehow saying it all out loud made it worse. Because hearing it spoken aloud made me realize how impossible this situation had become. The boys tried to either console me or lecture me, but I felt bad enough I just went to my room to be alone and waited till they all left. Later that night, I couldn't sleep, so I snuck out and went to my studio. The canvas waiting for me was blank for maybe 15 seconds. Then my hand started moving. I was tired of holding everything in, so I let go, and I didn't stop. Hours had passed, and the sun came up and leaked in a soft light, but I barely noticed. One painting became three. Three became five... and after that I had lost count. A sunflower that glowed brightly against a dark sky, two coffee cups next to one another, one of them with lipstick marks on it. A run-down gallery with colorful paintings that were dripping down the walls. Two people waiting at a bus stop at night. A wall with chalk graffiti...The flower keychains. A cracked mirror with my reflection looking into it, distorted. The pieces seen are of me being the idol, an artist...a stranger. There's a painting of the man who I want to be, the man who felt at peace because he felt understood. If you felt like I lost control or went overboard, you're wrong because I continued and finally painted the face that's been on my mind.
In the center of the room sat the largest canvas. Y/N. I painted the way she looked, sitting beneath gallery lights. The way she smiled when she talked about art. Her hair in the moonlight. For the first time in months, I couldn't stop creating. Canvas after canvas. Idea after idea. My artist block was fully gone. Standing in the middle of my studio, surrounded by proof of it, I realized something that made my chest ache. Inspiration had finally come back. But I have been pushing away the person who helped me get it back. As I look at all the work around me, my paintings were telling the honest truth. I may not have told her everything, but she's seen the most honest version of myself to an extent, and if I want her to stay by my side, coming clean is something I need to do too.
...
*ring* *ring* "Jin?"
The sound of her voice immediately made my stomach twist. It's only been two weeks. Yet somehow it felt longer. "Hey." Very smooth, Hyun. (I sounded like I was being held hostage.) A soft laugh came through the speaker. "Hi." I was silent for a minute, my heart was beating too fast, and I felt so nervous. I normally wouldn't feel this awkward, but I called her, yet I'm not saying anything, so now it is, geez dude get it together. "So..." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I was wondering if you were free this weekend." There was a pause. Long enough for me to panic. "I think so. Why?" My grip tightened around the phone. Because this was it, no backing out. "I got invited to a private gallery viewing, I can bring one guest." "Oh?" I smiled despite myself, I could hear her curiosity immediately. "It's supposed to be pretty exclusive." That earned another laugh. "Exclusive, huh?" "Very." "Wow." I could practically hear the teasing grin. It feels like we're getting back into the groove of things. "Look at you, Mr. Connections." I chuckle. "So, what do you say? There was another moment of silence again, and the anticipation was killing me. "I'll be there." Relief washes over me. "Great! I'll text you the details. Bye Y/N!" "Bye, Jin." That name gave me a pang in my heart momentarily, but hopefully soon I can fix things around.
The second I hung up the phone, I knew there was only one thing left to do. I needed backup. Unfortunately, my backup consisted of seven men whose favorite hobby was making my life difficult. I found them all scattered around my living room. Chan was working on his laptop. Felix and Jeongin were playing a game. Han was lying upside down on the couch for reasons unknown. Minho was cooking while Changbin was hovering, trying to steal bites. Seungmin was judging him. "Be patient, bastard." Normal. I stood in the middle of the living room. "Boys." Nothing. "Boys." Still nothing. "BOYS, I NEED YOUR HELP!" Seven heads snapped toward me. Han sat up first. "Oh, this is serious." Changbin pointed at me. "Wait." His eyes narrowed. "Is this about Y/N?" I blushed. The entire room erupted. "IT'S ABOUT Y/N." "I KNEW IT." "ABOUT TIME." "DO YOU NEED HELP WRITING A CONFESSION?" My face immediately felt hot. "NO!" "You absolutely do," Minho said. "I don't!" "You just shouted for help," Felix said with a laugh. "You're supposed to be on my side!" Felix smiled. "I am, I am." he wiggles his brows. Chan finally laughed and closed his laptop. "Okay, everyone, settle down." Miraculously, they listened. I rubbed my hands together nervously. "I invited her somewhere this weekend." Felix's eyes lit up. "Where?" "My studio." They all looked intrigued. "I told her I have access to a private gallery, but that's where I am going to tell her everything, including my feelings for her." "For real?" Seungmin asked. "Yes, I have to." They all looked serious now, which was surprising. "So, what do you need from us, Hyung?" Really surprising.
Saturday arrived far too quickly. I had spent the entire week alternating between confidence and absolute panic. Unfortunately, there was no backing out now. Y/N was already on her way. I stood outside the building and checked my phone for what had to be the hundredth time. A text appeared.
Y/N: I'm here :)
My stomach immediately dropped. Right. This was happening. I took a deep breath and headed toward the entrance. A few minutes later, I spotted her walking down the sidewalk. And suddenly every coherent thought ever left my brain. She looked beautiful, as always. The second she saw me, her face brightened. And despite everything weighing on my shoulders, I found myself smiling back. "Hi."..."Hi." A lot of eye contact was happening, I looked away first. Coward- No, I am not going to talk about myself that way, I am going to be confident. I looked back at her, determined. "You ready?" I asked. She nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely." Together, we walked toward the entrance. The building itself wasn't particularly flashy from the outside, it's just an old warehouse converted into studio space. Y/N looked around curiously. "This is where the gallery is?" "Yep." I prayed my voice sounded normal. It did not. Thankfully, Y/N didn't seem to notice, or maybe she was too excited to care. As we approached the front doors, a worker stepped forward- well, a "worker." Y/N immediately smiled politely. "Hello." The employee smiled back. "Welcome." I almost lost my composure right there. Because standing at the entrance wearing a staff badge was Minho. Y/N, thankfully, had never met him before. Meanwhile, Minho was enjoying this way too much. His eyes flicked toward me. The tiniest twitch of a smirk appeared. "Names?" he asked professionally. I gave mine. "Jin." Minho's eyebrow twitched. Just once. I knew exactly why. Thankfully, Y/N missed it. Minho looked at a clipboard. "Perfect." He handed us wristbands. "Enjoy the exhibition." He bowed as we put our wristbands on. As we walked away, I heard him call out behind us. "Oh, and good luck." I nearly choked. "What?" Y/N asked. I looked back. Minho was already pretending to organize brochures. "Nothing." I was going to kill him later.
As we walked, Y/N clutched my forearm and gasped. "Jin, that's a painting from Samuel H. Oh my god- oh my GOD, there's another- wait." Her eyes widened, and she spun in a circle, "Is this a Samuel H. exhibition!" Y/N was looking around in awe, trying to be quiet. I lined my walls with all of the paintings I have made over the years, every single one. Years of work and secrets. Years of pieces that nobody knew belonged to me. And somehow seeing Y/N standing among them felt more terrifying than submitting any of them had ever been. I was wondering about whether Y/N would still stand by me once she knew who really painted them. I was trying my best to not appear as a nervous wreck, but internally I was struggling, however, I felt grounded whenever I spotted one of the boys pretending to be a guest meandering about. I felt a bit better. "I've only ever dreamed and hoped about seeing some of these in person for years." Something warm settled in my chest. Years. She'd really been there that long, following my work, supporting it. Knowing me without me ever knowing. We moved through the exhibition slowly. Or rather, Y/N moved slowly, and I spent most of the time watching her. Every few steps she would stop. Sometimes she would stare at a painting for several minutes. Other times she'd walk right up to it and start pointing out details I had forgotten existed. "Oh, my god." She leaned closer to one of the canvases. "The brushwork here is insane." I nearly laughed. I remembered painting that one at three in the morning, being drunk as hell.
Meanwhile, Y/N was treating it like a historical artifact. "The texture changes halfway through." She looked genuinely amazed. "Why would he do that?" I bit the inside of my cheek because I spilled water on it. Instead, I said, "Maybe it was intentional." "Maybe." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "But I don't think so." I nearly choked. How was she so good at this? The deeper we went into the gallery, the more animated she became. And every single time she interpreted something, she somehow got frighteningly close to the truth. Sometimes exactly right. It felt like she could see straight through every brushstroke I'd ever made. At one point, she stopped in front of the fractured mirror painting. She squealed. "Jin, is that a new piece?" The one I'd finished during those awful two weeks. The one that hurt the most. She stared at it for a long time. Long enough that I started getting nervous. Then she frowned. "This one's sad." My chest tightened. "Not in a tragic way." Her eyes moved across the canvas. "More like..." She paused. "Someone struggling with who they are and who they want to be." I looked away immediately, because if I didn't, I was afraid she'd see everything written all over my face. The rest of the gallery passed in a blur after that for me, since I did spend countless hours, you know, painting them, they aren't entirely new to me, but seeing Y/N enjoying them added a new spark to them for me.
Eventually, we reached the final section. Unlike the rest of the gallery, there weren't any paintings hanging on the walls. Instead, I installed a circular curtain enclosure that hung near the back corner of the room. The fabric stretched from floor to ceiling. It was private, separated, and hidden. Y/N tilted her head. "Oh?" I swallowed. "There's one more section." Her eyes lit up immediately. "There's more!?" I nodded. She looked like Christmas had come early. "Jin, if there are more Samuel H. paintings in there, I might actually pass out." The laugh that escaped me sounded more nervous than amused. "Let's hope not." I stepped toward the curtain. For a moment, my hand hovered over the opening. My pulse was pounding. I looked behind Y/N and saw the boys gathered, giving me a thumbs up and hushed encouraging sounds. There was no going back. No more hiding, no more being Jin. I pulled the curtain aside. "After you." Y/N smiled and stepped inside.
The paintings here were the ones that made me realize I needed to tell her the truth, they were personal. The coffee cups. The sunflower. The flower keychains. The bus stop. The chalk wall. All our moments and memories. The pieces of feelings I hadn't known how to put into words. Y/N's steps gradually slowed till she stopped in the middle and looked around. The excitement on her face was curious but then faded into confusion, then realization. I watched her eyes move from painting to painting. Wondering if she knew I painted the pieces of us. She looked around but soon stopped completely. My breath caught because she'd finally found it. The portrait, her portrait. Y/N stared at it, her eyes slowly traveled across every detail. Every brushstroke, feeling, and ounce of yearning that I poured onto that canvas. My heart was somehow beating even harder. Finally, she spoke. "...Jin?" I swallowed. "Yeah?" She looked at the portrait. Then at me. Then back at the portrait. Confusion filled her face. "Why am I in a Samuel H. painting?" I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. My rehearsed speech, the one I'd practiced for days, was gone. Y/N took a step closer to the painting. Her eyes moved over every detail. Slowly, carefully. Then she glanced toward the other paintings, then to me. My stomach dropped because I could actually see it happening. The pieces were starting to connect. "Jin...these paintings..." She pointed toward the coffee cups. "Were those inspired by us?" I laughed nervously, the sound came out pathetic. "A little." "A little?" I rubbed the back of my neck. "A lot." Her brows pulled together. "Were all of these as well?" I looked at the floor. "Yeah." Silence. Not angry, not yet at least, just confusion. "How do you have access to these?" My pulse hammered in my ears, I took a breath, then another. I looked up, Y/N was still waiting. "Because they're mine." Y/N blinked. "What?" "The paintings...they're mine." I could practically see her trying to make sense of it. "Mine as in...you bought them?" I shook my head. "No. I painted them." "No." I nodded. "Yeah." Her mouth opened. Closed and opened again. Then her eyes widened, really widened. The kind of realization that changes everything. Her gaze snapped back to the portrait, then to me, then to the signature, then to me again. And now, she wasn't looking at me the same way anymore, thankfully, she still didn't look angry or even upset.
"...You're Samuel?" My heart stopped, she sounded hurt. Like she'd already figured out what came next. And I hated myself for being the reason. I looked down, unable to hold her gaze anymore. "Actually, my name is Hyunjin." The words felt impossibly heavy. "I should've told you sooner. I wanted to, but every day I waited made it harder, to the point where it became impossible." When I finally looked up again, Y/N was still staring at me. Or maybe at the person she thought I was. The silence stretched between us. I hated it, I hated being the reason for that look. "...Hyunjin?" The name sounded strange coming from her. I nodded. "Yeah." Her eyes dropped briefly. "You're Samuel H." Another nod. "And you've been lying to me this whole time. You let me stand in galleries talking about your paintings." "I know." "You listened to me ramble for hours. You watched me obsess over Samuel H." A weak laugh escaped me. "Yeah." She looked back up at me, not impressed, her arms crossed. "Do you know how insane this sounds?" A surprised laugh slipped out of me. "Actually, yeah." That earned the smallest smile to slip, which gave me hope she isn't as upset as I thought she was. My chest tightened because she was trying. "I wanted to tell you." My voice came out rough. "From the beginning." Y/N looked away. "But you didn't- why?" I didn't have a good answer, not one that even I can justify. "I was scared." She blinked. "Scared?" "Every day, I kept telling myself I'd tell you next time. I felt really guilty." I swallowed. "Then the next time came, and I liked being around you too much. I knew if I told you who I was, everything could change, and I didn't want to lose whatever this is." My hands clenched at my sides. "So, I kept waiting, the worst decision I've made in a long time." Y/N stared at me, the hurt in her expression softened slightly. "You should've trusted me." "I know." She looked around the room, her gaze landed on the portrait again. The one I'd poured everything into. She stared at it for a long moment. Then she asked quietly, "Why did you paint this?" "I couldn't stop thinking about you." The confession slipped out before I could stop it. The room suddenly felt much smaller. Y/N looked back at me. I couldn't look away this time. My pulse hammered against my ribs. "I like you, Y/N." The words hung in the air. I gained enough courage to take one step forward, she didn't back away, and to me that felt like a sign of hope. "I think I've liked you for a while."
For a moment, Y/N didn't say anything. The room felt impossibly quiet. My heart was pounding so hard I was convinced she could hear it. She just stared at me. At the portrait. Then back at me. Finally, she let out a slow breath. "Wow. You painted me." It wasn't really a question. "I did." "More than once." I glanced around the room. "Yeah." Her eyes moved across the paintings. Every moment we'd shared. Every memory I'd immortalized before I'd even known what to do with the feelings attached to them. A small shake of her head escaped her. "I don't even know what to say." I swallowed. "You don't have to say anything." The words hurt to get out, but they were true. "I didn't bring you here because I expected anything from you." Her eyes returned to mine. "I brought you here because you deserved the truth." She laughed softly, not an amused laugh, a disbelieving one. "I spent years wondering who Samuel H was. I made theories." A tiny smile appeared. "I had entire notebooks." I groaned. "Oh no." "Oh yes." For the first time since entering the room, she looked almost like herself again. Almost. Then her smile faded. "You really hurt my feelings, you know." The words landed harder than anything else she'd said. "You didn't trust me." I looked down. "I didn't trust myself." That made her pause. I forced myself to keep going. "I kept thinking that if you knew who I was…" I laughed weakly. "You'd stop looking at me the way you do." Y/N's expression softened. "Hyunjin." "I know it doesn't make sense." "It does." That surprised me enough that I looked up. She was already looking at me. "I don't agree with it." A small sigh escaped her. "But I understand it."
Hope flickered in my chest. Y/N looked at the portrait one last time. Then she looked back at me. Really looked at me. The way she always had. Like she was trying to understand what was beneath the surface. "I think…" She hesitated. "I think I need a minute to process the fact that the guy I've been crushing on and my favorite artist are the same person." My brain stopped working. Completely. "What?" The corners of her mouth twitched. "You heard me." I stared at her. She stared back. Then immediately looked away. Apparently embarrassed she'd admitted that. Meanwhile, I was pretty sure my soul had just left my body. Because she hadn't walked away. She hadn't told me to leave. She hadn't said no. "Really?" "Really." She laughed, shocked that I was surprised. "Hyunjin." The way she said my name made my heart stumble. "I genuinely thought you knew." "What?" Her eyebrows lifted. "I thought I was being obvious." I almost choked. "OBVIOUS?" "Yes." "You invited me to galleries." "Exactly." "Y/N, we met at a gallery..." She burst out laughing again. "Okay, fair." "Thank you." "But still." She pointed at me. "I thought there were signs." I looked around the room helplessly. "Apparently not." The smile on her face softened, and just like that, the teasing disappeared. "You really painted all of these because of me?" "Yeah." Her expression softened even further. "That's kind of insane." "It definitely is." "But also...really beautiful." I don't think she understood what those words did to me. Because I'd been convinced she'd hate them- hate me that she would think I am creepy, weird, and obsessive, so much so that she would never forgive me. Instead, she was looking at them like they were something precious. Like they mattered. Just like she'd always looked at my art. "I still need time." The words pulled me from my thoughts. She walked closer to me and reached out to touch my arm. "I think anyone would need a minute, right?" "That's fair." "Thank you." She squeezed my arm once before letting go. The loss of contact was immediate. Tragic, honestly.
"You know." My stomach dropped. "What?" "You made my hair look way better than it actually does." I stared at her. Then groaned. "That's your takeaway?" She laughed, I buried my face in my hands. "That isn't true. I just painted you and all your beauty." I looked up and winked at her, she turned away. "Ji-Hyunjin, don't flatter me when I should be upset with you." "Sorry." "You should be." She teased. I smiled, but it quickly faded, and she noticed. "Y/N, there's something else." She squinted her eyes. "Hyunjin, what on earth, dude?" I went to the curtain. Y/N followed me. The second it parted, we were met with sixteen wide eyes. We all screamed. Well, maybe not screamed. But there were definitely several very embarrassing yelps. Y/N jumped. I jumped. Felix jumped. Han nearly dropped his phone. Chan looked like he'd just been caught committing a crime. And somehow Minho looked completely relaxed. The other members...turned around?? As if I can't see them if they don't see me?? "WERE YOU GUYS LISTENING?!" I shouted. Every single one of them wore the exact same guilty expression. Except Minho, he just shrugged. "Most of it." "MOST OF IT? "Okay, all of it." "MINHO!" "What?" he asked innocently. I just took a deep breath. Beside me, Y/N was staring at the group in complete disbelief. "Hold on," she said slowly. "Who are these people?" The boys looked at me, I looked at the boys. Y/N looked between all of us. Then the realization dawned on Chan's face. "Oh." Felix blinked. "Oh." Han's mouth dropped open. "OH." "SHE DOESN'T KNOW!" Changbin yelled. "KNOW WHAT?" Y/N asked. Suddenly every pair of eyes landed on me. "Hyunjin?" Y/N said suspiciously. I rubbed my face. "Remember when I said there was something else?" "I am rapidly beginning to hate that sentence." Han snorted. Chan elbowed him. "Basically..." I started. Then stopped, because somehow admitting I was Samuel H had been easier than this. Y/N folded her arms, waiting. "Hyunjin," Chan said. "You're not helping." "Just tell her." I groaned. "I'm in a boy group...with them." Y/N blinked. Silence. Then, "Okay?" "Okay?" Han repeated. "Yeah?" Y/N said. "Just, okay?" "I was kinda expecting something bad? This, though, is just interesting." Felix looked genuinely fascinated. "This is the most normal reaction we've ever gotten." "Should I be reacting differently?" "No, no, you're good," Chan said with a laugh. "Honestly, this is refreshing." "Very refreshing," Felix agreed. "This just means we should have you come to one of our concerts sometime." Y/N blinked. "Oh?" "Yeah," Jeongin said. "You'd get to see Hyung in his natural habitat." "My natural habitat?" I repeated. "Overdramatic and sweaty." "YAH!" The boys laughed. "I think it'd be fun," Chan continued. "If you ever wanted to come." Y/N smiled. "I'd actually like that, sounds fun." "See?" Felix pointed at me. "She likes us already." "Or she's being polite," Seungmin said. "That's possible too." Before I could stop it, a small smile tugged at my lips. Then Han opened his mouth, a terrible sign. "Oh, she'd get special access too." "Huh." "Front row." "Han." "Backstage." "HAN." "VIP treatment." "HAN JISUNG." "Sorry, I was just going over some of the perks." "Perks of what?" Y/N asked. The smirk on Han's face was devious. "The girlfriend package." Changbin was laughing so hard he nearly fell over. Felix had completely abandoned helping me. Even Chan was hiding a smile. I wanted to disappear. Beside me, Y/N covered her face. "Oh, my god." Han pointed triumphantly. "Look! She's not denying it!" "Neither are you!" Changbin shouted. "That's because I'm not involved!" "Oh, Hyung, you very much are," Seungmin replied. I groaned and buried my face in my hands. When I finally looked up, Y/N was peeking through her fingers, trying and failing not to laugh. And honestly? Seeing her shy smile made the embarrassment worth it.
Eventually, Chan clapped his hands together. "Okay, okay. I think we've tortured Hyunjin enough for one day." "No, we haven't," Minho said immediately. "Please leave," I begged. Felix patted my shoulder sympathetically. "We're proud of you." "Thank you." "Still can't believe you sketched her like one thousand times, Y/N. I bet you didn't know that." Felix wiggled his brows. "Felix." "Right. Leaving." One by one, the boys finally started filing out of the studio. Changbin pointed at me dramatically on his way past. "If you mess this up after all this, I'm fighting you." "Goodbye, Changbin." The door shut behind the last of them. Now it's just me and her. For a moment neither of us spoke. Then Y/N looked around the room one more time. I rubbed the back of my neck. "So..." "So," she echoed as she crossed her arms. "You owe me for ghosting me." I immediately winced. "Fair." Very fair. "...Take me out on a date, and we're good." My heart skipped. Date. A date. My brain latched onto exactly one word and refused to let go. And for the first time since I'd met her, there wasn't a secret standing between us. "Okay," I said. "I'll take you out for coffee?" She nodded approvingly. "Good." "And lunch." "Oh?" "And maybe dinner if the coffee goes well." A smile slowly spread across her face. "That's a lot of confidence from someone who spent two weeks hiding from me." I laugh. "I deserve that." "You do." I stepped a little closer. "Thank you for giving me a chance to make it up to you." For a second, she just looked at me. Then her smile softened into something warm. Something that made every stupid decision I'd made feel worth fixing. My chest had felt lighter than it had in months, maybe even years. My artist block is gone, and so are the lies. Some fears were in the back of my mind, but it didn't feel overwhelming anymore because she was still here.
Y/N glanced toward the giant portrait one last time before looking back at me. "You know...If we ever get married, that painting is not going in the living room." My soul left my body. I was speechless, she laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. And as we left my studio and I saw her walk away, I didn't feel so disheartened. For the first time since meeting her, I wasn't thinking about the future with fear. I was thinking about it with hope. Funny enough, I never stopped painting her after that. Even when I had her sitting beside me on café dates, rambling about art, stealing bites of my food, and reading every expression on my face before I could hide it. I still painted her. Because every artist has a muse, and Y/N became mine.
A/N: Ahhhh omg first fic done! I want to give kudos to writers who are consistently posting because, for me, I have been working on this fic for MONTHS. I started my first year of college last year, so I put writing on the back burner and would work on this occasionally. Now that it's summer, I have much more free time. I really enjoyed writing this, I have been wanting to do something more stimulating than doom scrolling or watching movies all day (I am a film major lol). I want to write more fics, I am down to any suggestions, so let me know what you would like to read, and I'll do my best to give your vision/fantasy justice. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!! p.s Please comment, I need validation or criticism lowkey lol!