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Ken had always been the only artsy one in the family. Sure, Hongbin and Wonshik were amazed time and time again every time he drew something successfully, and even when he didn’t, and their fathers never lacked for praises, but he’s never had anyone to draw with. He was always the only one whose hands could take the simplest pencil or crayon and make something beautiful out of it, as if by magic.
It was fun, and gave him a small sense of superiority over his brothers, but it did get lonely sometimes, as only he could do it, and it took time and concentration. Wonshik and Hongbin usually had neither.
So Ken lay sprawled on a paint-stained rag on his bedroom floor, his enormous sketch pad laid out. His fingers were a different color each, making magic with a glide of red here, a dot of blue there, a smidge of yellow, and a line of black. Bottles of paint sit in a haphazard pile by his elbows, the palette beside it as haphazardly stained with what was now unrecognizable colors.
That was how Hyuk found him. The youngest of the Cha-Jung family had just woken up from his nap and been wandering their house in search of entertainment. Taekwoon, though busy with a call, had kissed the top of his head and promised to play with him as soon as he could, and Hongbin and Wonshik were asleep on the couch. The kindergartner knew better than to waste his time waking the two, and headed to Ken’s room, bored but becoming increasingly curious as he watched his brother produce shapes out of the tips of his fingers.
Hyuk squat by Ken, watching a playground take shape with his hyung’s skillful hands, and wanting to join in but not liking the idea of ruining Ken’s picture. “Hyung,” he said. Ken flinched as if broken from a trance and looked up at him. “Yeah, Hyogie?”
“I wanna do that too,” he said, staring at the cans of variously colored paints.
Ken looked at him, cautious at first–Hyuk had a penchant for pranks, no thanks to Hongbin and Wonshik–but when he saw his baby brother’s eyes twinkle, he then decided that there was no harm in letting the boy share in his hobby. He wanted company anyway.
So he sat up, beaming. “Sure!” And he had started turning the page of his sketch book when Hyuk stopped him. “Wait, hyung!” he said, catching Ken’s wrists before the paint started to run off the page, unusually strong for a kindergartner, or maybe Ken was just scrawny. He didn’t play outside as much as Wonshik or Hongbin did. “I have a better idea.”
By the gleam in Hyuk’s eyes, Ken knew that whatever it was he had planned, it would be fun, but it wasn’t good.
——————
Hongbin sat up with a wide yawn, rubbing his eyes with his wrists. He stretched his sleep-stiff arms and squinted at Wonshik, still asleep, beside him. What Hongbin saw didn’t make sense and he leaned in for a closer look.
Yup. Wonshik definitely had swollen red lips that spanned nearly half his face, framed by jet black beard and moustache along his cheeks and down his jaw. What was spared of his cheeks by the beard was peppered by black dots. His eyebrows looked like one large, hairy caterpillar that went from one side of his forehead to the other in an unbroken wave of a line. Little, curly squiggles were all over his arms, and his exposed stomach suddenly had six bun-like mounds that might have been abs once but were now smudged, probably by Wonshik scratching at his tummy in his sleep, judging by the paint on his fingers.
Hongbin’s eyes were suddenly wide open, hands clapping up to his mouth to keep himself from bursting into laughter and waking Wonshik. Biting his lips, he turned left and right, frantically looking for his tablet to take a picture of his brother with. Upon finding his device and opening the screen however, his doe eyes opened wider, if that was even possible at this point. He dropped his tablet and ran to the bathroom.
Wonshik woke with a start as the tablet landed next to his head, squinting at Hongbin’s fleeing back. What was that about? Wonshik shook his head, deciding to ask his brother later, and lied back down, scratching at his stomach and further smudging the painted buns on it.
If Wonshik had bothered to look at the tablet by his head, he would have seen the image set as wallpaper. It was of him–face, arms and stomach painted garishly– asleep and unaware, beside an equally unconscious Hongbin,whose lips had been colored a bright pink with matching circles as blush on his cheeks, eye sockets painted over with exaggeratedly large and sparkly anime-like eyes, and monstrously long eyelashes that went up to his forehead.
——————
“YOU ARE SO DEAD WHEN I FIND YOU, KEN-HYUNG.”
Ken giggled under his breath, crouching by the second-floor staircase landing, listening to Hongbin scream threats from the bathroom. He thought he also heard Wonshik babbling, disoriented from sleep and the rude awakening. He never thought painting could be fun with his brothers, whether they liked it or not, and it was all thanks to Hyuk.
He turned around to high five their baby brother, only to find him gone. “Hyuk?” he whispered, with only the thud of a door and the click of a lock to answer him.
As two sets of feet stomped his way, Ken realized in horror, and too little too late, that Hyuk had abandoned him to the wrath of a flower boy and a crybaby scorned. As he ran for a hiding place, Ken promised himself he’d do it again, and when he did, Hyuk would be a victim too.