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"You ever think Hamin told you what he was…going to do to himself?"
Her paintbrush fell to the floor, the sound echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Paint dribbled down her leg and she whipped her head to face her late lover's younger sibling.
"Somang?"
The expression on her face was unreadable, but it was clear that the color was drained out of it.
Perhaps it drained out of her and onto the paint palette she used to paint the empty canvas. A punishment not for what she did, but couldn't do.
And she let herself suffer the consequences.
"What makes you think of that?" she said so quietly that she seemed small, fragile even.
Jaemin would cough out an apology, as his question was spoken aloud with no thought put into it. Composing himself, he put his clenched fists on his lap. "I mean as you told me, there were obviously some clear signs. But was there ever a time where…a part of you knew?"
"Knew…?"
"I mean—!" Jaemin waved his hands around in a panic. "I'm not accusing you of anything but like! Have you – ah – I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be asking this."
"No."
Somang shifted in her seat to pick up her paintbrush and set it on the stool beside her. "Tell me what you were going to ask, it's okay."
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Are you sure?"
Jaemin knew that his brother wasn't really a sensitive topic anymore. They would touch upon it and sometimes it would bring a smile to their face. Ironically, talking about the gone, made them happy.
It was moments like these that they'd try to avoid. Sometimes they would put themselves through it, because wouldn't it be rude to dismiss everything that someone they loved went through?
But he could tell this time that she was on edge. Somang picked at her fingers, refusing to make eye contact.
"Somang, you don't have to force yourself–"
"I'm not."
He could tell it came out a bit more sternly than she intended, as she mumbled an expression of regret.
He let out a huff. "Well, if you insist."
Somang looked like she was preparing herself to take a bullet and honestly, he didn't blame her. Jaemin would find a way to soften the impact somehow.
"Do you remember a time where he told you something that struck you as odd? Something you thought was strange but you paid no mind because you didn't realize…"
He stopped, realizing he wasn't softening any impact.
"I mean…something he said that you just – didn't know had a deeper meaning?"
Somang sighed in relief, the question a lot less brutal than she thought it would be. It stung, nonetheless. "Well…if I were to think about it…"
She trailed off, digging the confines of her memories.
Jaemin perked up, leaning forward in interest. He would take anything to know more about his brother, even if it hurt.
"There was this one time…"
***
Seven years ago, Somang was lost in thought.
Her only worries were about her future, and getting along with new people that's recently been circling her life more. Ever since the festival, she had unintentionally drawn more attention to herself.
She was fine being alone, but she couldn't help but admit it felt nice to have a little more company at school.
"Hey, catch."
Somang raised an eyebrow when she felt something light hit her hand holding a paintbrush, her train of thought halting. She turned in confusion. "What was that?"
"Use your eyes, dummy."
She looked to the floor, finding a crumpled ball of paper in her vision.
He laughed.
"Why do you look so confused right now, Somang? It's just a paper ball."
When she examined it a bit more closely, she saw small hints of paint decorating the ball of paper. Immediately, she snatched it up and his eyes went wide.
"Hey, wait–"
She unwrapped the ball, attempting to stretch out the wrinkles. "Woah, this doesn't look half bad! It's…"
It was the shadow of someone. The lines looked so carefully put together but gloomy in a way. She could tell their back was facing the front and her eyes followed the way that the drips were drawn on their body.
Like they were melting away.
In a blur, the paper was out of her hands.
"I said look at it, not open it up."
"Now what's that about? That drawing looks amazing, Hamin. I'm surprised you aren't thinking about art more seriously."
He scoffed. "Yeah, right. Like I could make something big out of it."
Excitedly, she jumped out of her seat and he flew back in surprise. "But you could! Every piece I've seen you make always blows my mind!"
"You're just saying that…" Blood rushed to his cheeks, taken aback by her sudden compliments.
She raised her arms in the air, to further strengthen her point. "I'm not, if you listen to me you could seriously–"
He gripped her wrist, making her cut off.
"Stop that now. Is that all you see?"
"Huh?"
"Are you sure you're an artist? Doesn't an artist look into the deeper mean…"
He paused there, realizing he still had a grip on her, quickly letting her go. "Sorry. Forget that, that was rude of me."
She leaned her body back, crossing her arms. "Sure was, but I forgive you. Because you know, I'm the best."
"Yeah," he scoffed sarcastically. "–and I'm the greatest musician alive."
"You never know when to keep your mouth shut, huh?"
Hamin approached her at a slow pace, dragging his fingers through his pin-straight hair. "Now look who's talking."
She slowly backed away. "What do you mea– ah–" Somang felt her back bump against the window sill, causing an anxious feeling to grow in her gut.
"You know what I mean. I might be a chatterbox at times," he drawled out, fixing the collar of her shirt. "...but you sure do talk like there's no end. Especially to jab at me, right?"
Color rose up in her cheeks and nose (he wouldn't admit that he loved to rile her up just to see the redness in her face) Somang blew air to the side. "Yeah, well! Uh…"
He was too close, something that didn't make her uncomfortable, but at the same time made her want to jump out of a window. "Hamin, let's just focus on the things we need to graduate. I have to finish this painting to submit it to my portfolio."
His playful demeanor washed away in an instant, and he slid away. "...Okay."
Somang felt that he pulled back too fast.
What did she expect when she told him to do exactly that?
She stood in place.
"...Aren't you going to get back to painting?"
"Hamin?"
"Mm?"
"What do you plan to do after graduation?"
Something changed in his eyes, the light that it had when he laughed wasn't there anymore. It wasn't filled with light, nor darkness.
It was dull.
"I plan to just take care of my little brother for now."
"And then?" she pressed.
An uncomfortable silence thickened the air between them.
"And then I'll just keep on doing stuff one step at a time, like I always have been."
"Don't you want to change that? Maybe plan a future that you want?"
Stepping forward, her hands engulfed his.
"Plan a future…with me?"
He laughed. "With kids or what?"
"With happiness."
Hamin stared, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"I want to be happy with you, Lee Hamin."
Somang hoped that the words resonated with his heart, tugged at it, pulled at it, ripped it apart, something. Did something.
He only smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
An empty smile with no promises.
"That'd be nice, Somang. Do you like that idea?"
She pretended that she was happy right now with how he responded. Somang realized that lately, she had to do a lot of pretending around him.
Like he didn't have that face of hopelessness when he thought she wasn't looking. Or when the smile he wore on his face didn't reach his eyes. She couldn't just barge into his life and fix all of his problems.
He would be able to solve them, she was certain.
So she pretended that all of these issues, one day, would go away.
What she didn't know at the time, was that that one day that she hoped for, was a fateful one.
A tragic day.
"I do like it a lot, heh. Do you think you'll be able to go to the art academy today with me?"
The light in his eyes returned and she beamed. Somang only wanted that light to stay there forever.
Oh, what a terrible wish it was. A foolish one.
"Yeah, I'm free. Let's do that."
***
Somang rubbed her eye with the back of her hand. "Agh, sorry– now–" She sniffed. "Where was I?"
Jaemin looked around the room to jog his memory. "You guys went to the art academy?"
"Right. Well, shortly after that, his– your mom found out about the fact that he was going to the art academy. I think you can put together the rest…I mean! There's definitely a lot more that happened in between, but I think that's enough for today because y'know it's just…so much to think about," she rambled on, flailing her hands around.
"Yeah, I get it! It's always so weird hearing about this…other side he had though. I wish I got to see it, I definitely would've made fun of him for it."
"Hah! He definitely kept up appearances with you."
"I wish he didn't…but what can we do! I'm cursing him out and he only watches me from above wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life when I…only talk about him most of the time. He probably thinks I'm pathetic."
The chair screeched and she harshly slapped her hands onto Jaemin's shoulders.
"Listen to me." Her voice was stern, making Jaemin instinctively nod at her command. "He would never think of you like that. He may have been the type to curse out everyone, but he never spoke ill of you. I'm sure that he's…happy. That you're talking about him."
"Is he?"
"What?"
"Is he really happy now? Did him jumping off the rooftop of our house bring him peace?"
"I…"
His eyebrows knitted together. "Somang, usually revisiting the past he had does hurt, and sometimes it's fun to talk about who he was. But I can't accept you making assumptions on how he's feeling now."
"You're right…sorry." She let her mind wander a bit, before it came back to respond to him again. "I do think it also applies to you too, in a way."
"Sorry?"
"To assume that he thinks you're pathetic. Wouldn't it be fair to not assume he's not thinking that either?"
Jaemin bit the inside of his cheek. "Sorry, for what I said…you're right. I was just doing the same thing."
"That's another thing you two have in common," she sighed, readjusting the pin pulling her bangs back. "Apologizing for stuff like — immediately. It's weird seeing the similarity but it makes sense."
He smiled, thinking of a brother who used to apologize to him everytime he wailed about the smallest inconvenience.
"It must be. Ah, what time is it?"
"Oh crap, it's eight! Don't you have homework? And school tomorrow??"
"I can do it later though–"
"SHOO!"
Jaemin complied with her wishes, giving a gentle wave when he left the studio. Somang returned the gesture with a gleeful smile, one that felt like home.
His brother might now be watching from the clouds, but he feels like he has somewhat of an older sibling right beside him. It felt like a final gift from Hamin, a comforting presence that he could talk to whenever he felt like talking about his day, or really anything.
Looking through his late brother's things, he found little notes about the girl who made his brother's happiest days. One note stated that Somang was like a radiant light. Hamin was right, she was.
Jaemin only hoped he could be as radiant someday.