the alcohol is numbing his emotions. at this point, tears can’t even come out from his eyes. even though he is rather intoxicated, he can still make out what the short girl is trying to say. “pft. maybe i do deserve it. you don’t fucking know me.” he pauses for a moment. “who are you to say what i deserve or not?” he’s starting to blame himself for the current state of the art room. actually, he blames himself for everything, especially for the way his life turned out. “i tried and tried to live as a decent person, but life always fucks me over.” there is definitely sorrow in his voice. “did you know my own mom doesn’t even love me?” a pained laugh leaves his lips. “isn’t that pathetic? if that got out, i’m going to be the laughing stock of the entire school full of fucking rejects.”
he downs some more vodka from the bottle. the alcohol stings a little, but it’s not even close to how much he’s hurting on the inside. “look at me drinking my problems away like i’m some kind of idiot.” he doesn’t seem to care that there’s a chance he can become unconscious due to alcohol poisoning. however, he can’t get through any of this sober. his demons are slowly creeping out from their hiding spaces. throughout his teenage years, he remembers constantly being depressed due to his family situation. during that time, he didn’t mind if he were to die young. now, his head is being flooded with the same thoughts. maybe he just isn’t meant to live. he has been using his confidence as a mask to hide some deeper issues he has been struggling with.
he’s staring at the floor, his vision blurring. he stumbles over to a canvas on an easel. even though the painting itself has not been toppled over, there is a large slash across the canvas. it was the most recent piece he had been working on. in his current state, he can’t make out the picture. it’s just a mix of colors. he mutters under his breath. “i can’t believe i even call myself an artist.” he can feel a lump in his throat, but he immediately swallows it. “fuck this shit.”he carelessly knocks over the easel. the painting as well as the easel tumble onto the floor, creating a rather loud thud.
grabbing a chair , the misfit took a seat in front of the artist. “i know you enough to know that you don’t deserve this.” she looked around one more time. “you worked really hard on all of these, don’t say that you deserved to have all your hard work torn to pieces by nobodies.” seeing him in this state was new to the misfit. he usually was snappy and didn’t take anything serious, to see him with red and puffy eyes and so vulnerable was a new experience for the misfit. rage and anger towards the coward who did this started to burn inside her but she knew she had to keep calm, specially in his state. “i’m... your friend.” the misfit observed him silently as he spoke. he never spoke about himself, this was all too new to the misfit. “it’s not pathetic and no one is going to laugh at you. i’ll beat them up myself if they try.” she spoke with determination. “its her loss. i know how you feel but you can’t blame yourself for that. if she doesn’t love you, then she’s not deserving of your tears, agony or love. i know it’s hard to believe it, trust me, but it’s the truth.” she didn’t know how to make him feel better, she was in the same position but probably just like him, couldn’t understand why she wasn’t loved. however now it wasn’t the time or place for the misfit to tell him her story, though if he decided to tell her his, she’d listen.
“you’re not an idiot.” she muttered. as much as she wanted to answer him, saying that he shouldn’t drink that much, she couldn’t. after all she did deal with her problems in the same manner various times before. she observed him silently, a worried expression settling in as she realized how quickly he was drinking the bottle. still, remained silent for a moment. talking wouldn’t help.
what finally got her to speak again were his words before he knocked over the easel. “hey. no.” getting up, she removed the bottle from his grip and placed it on the floor. “now listen to me.” she cupped his face with her small hands, forcing him to look at her. “don’t ever say that again, okay? you’re an artist, all the art work that was here, was fucking amazing. no one in this school is better than you at painting and drawing. no one. and you’re going to make more amazing pieces in the future and prove that this shit right here can’t stop you. ” the misfit let his face go. “so don’t you ever dare doubt that you’re an artist because you fucking are kwon jaesuk.”
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