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Hwang Hyunjin, it says. Never heard of him. Then again, Jisung hasn’t heard of any artists born after the renaissance, so. Doesn’t say much. He knew a Hwang girl in high school, used to think he had a crush on her before—
“Do you like it?”
“Oh fuck!” Jisung whisper yells, probably still too loud, but he has to focus on not spilling his champagne or tripping over his feet and going face first into the wall. Or even worse, the painting.
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He reminds himself Seungmin isn’t actually his therapist, he’s just a friend who happens to be a therapist but Jisung can never really shake off that need to make him proud, not be judged by him, impress him in any small way he can. Parade himself around like – look, I can do the life thing, you know? You see? Totally doing it and not fucking it up. Good, right?
He reaches for his glass, remembering he’s drank it all before he can really try to drink and look even more silly. His mouth is dry. It even makes sense, if he thinks about it. Maybe not in the abstract, high profile artist way, but more in a way of you telling the story to a middle school child and them painting what they heard. Sort of. If you squint. You really have to squint.
“Yes. I’m familiar with his work. What did you think of his other pieces tonight? Some people say he’s a bit pretentious.”
Well, Jisung hasn’t really stopped and stared at many paintings, but he feels weirdly overprotective over this man whose painting he definitely banalized for the sake of impressing someone hot he’ll probably never see again in his life. -
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Bookmark Notes:
THIS SHOULD'VE BEEN LONGERRRRRR
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ts was beauty icl
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Hysterical and adorable, with Jisung as a disastrous gay trying to impress Hyunjin.
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Bookmark Notes:
so silly my hyunsung my silly hanji