Chapter Text
“Nonononononono” Duang cried as he rushed to lift a cup of spilt paint water from his self-portrait. "You’re kidding me…” whined as he looked down at the ruined artwork. He felt like crying.
Before the water knocked onto the canvas, he had finally constructed a self-portrait that he deemed passable for his professor. Duang frantically grabbed some paper towels and tried to soak up the water. The water fell diagonally across his work—perfectly smudging his face. He stared at the canvas helplessly. The paint had blended from Duang’s pathetic attempts at salvaging the artwork. It became an ugly brown streak with hints of colorful arrays surrounding the work. If Duang wasn’t upset at needing this art piece to be perfect for his deadline, he would’ve thought it was pretty.
He whined, looking around the empty art room that he was occupying. It was early morning and majority of the campus population had yet to arrive. There were extra canvases around he could start a new painting on. But Duang pouted and plopped himself on the tarp he placed to prevent paint from staining the floor. There wasn’t time to make a new painting. The assignment was due in two days, and he spent a week working on this particular canvas.
“Duang?”
Jamie’s voice called out cautiously from the classroom door. Duang jerked his body towards his direction to look at him. Standing next to Jamie was his other friend Pae, looking at Duang with equal apprehension. “JAMIEEEE. PAAAEEE.” Duang’s nag echoed off the empty halls as he sat up with his head hanging low. “My god it’s so early,” Jamie tsked as Pae and him walked into the classroom to get closer to Duang, who sat in the center of the room. “What possibly has you—” his snarky comment got lost in his throat as he caught sight of Duang’s painting.
“Duang what happened?” Pae gasped, his eyes wondering around to see large amounts of paper towel over a puddle that hasn’t fully absorbed. “The waterrrrr” Duang cried. He shuffled forward to thud his head into Jamie’s leg. He curled into his friend’s space, nearly toppling him over. “Shit Duang…” Jamie began to pat his friend’s head as he debated what they should do. “Do you need help creating a new one? I finished mine, I can help you.” Jamie offered. Duang looked up at him before fully laying back down on the floor.
“You can’t.” Duang pouted, “Our professor wants it in our unique art styles. We use completely different techniques.” Duang rolled side to side in annoyance. With his friends now in the room, he felt the urge to release every ounce of frustration he had with a whine. “I’m so sorry Duang.” Pae said. He began soaking up the remnants of water around the tarp with more paper towels. “I don’t know what to do.” Duang whispers from his position on the floor. He looked up to the ceiling lights. He never turned them on since the morning sunrise beamed brightly into the art room from the giant window. He didn’t need them before, but now the sun was temporarily hidden behind some clouds. The room fell into a dim light. It was as gloomy as his mood.
“I took a picture of it earlier. Before the water fell.”
Jamie’s head turned over to Duang. “That’s perfect!” he exclaimed. Duang’s head shifted to look at his friends till they were both upside down to him. Jamie looked funny upside down.
“You can email the teacher and see if he’ll take a photo submission.” Jamie’s face had broken into a smile. He truly believed he thought up the perfect solution. “What if he doesn’t accept it?” Duang pouted once again. He still hadn’t made any effort to get off the school floor. “Only one way to find out!” Jamie clapped. “Send me the picture.”
Duang sat up trying to pull his phone out of his back pocket. Once successful, he held it out to Jamie without a word. Jamie took it from his hands with a sing song thank you and unlocked the phone with ease. After years of friendship, this trio always knew each other’s passwords. Pae finished wiping the water off the tarp and placing the drenched paper towels in a corner. He got up and snapped a picture of the mess on his phone for their professor. Looking over at Duang, Pae noticed he was still in a foul mood. The young man was zoned out and staring at his hands that he placed in his lap. His back was hunched, and his face was uncharacteristically null of emotion. “Duang.” He started, “I’ll write the email for you, why don’t you go for a walk?”
Duang looked up at him with a head tilt. “It’ll help you clear your head?” he offered. Honestly, he just wanted Duang to leave the art room. He needed to get away from the accident. He’d been working on the painting here every morning for the last week. Duang nodded slowly. He sighed as he made efforts to stand up by crawling up Jamie. Jamie rolled his eyes. He was used to Duang using him as a cane or pole made to make things easier. Duang stretched some of the tension out of his body. He waved off his friends as he made his way towards the door for a mandatory walk. He paused. He turned back to the painting and his friends. “I should…probably take that out to dry.”
Jamie and Pae looked down at the painting. Despite Duang and Pae wiping up the water with paper towel, the painting was still visible wet. “Ok, yeah!” Jamie walked over to the portrait and lifted it up. It was slightly dripping from sitting in water. Guess Pae forgot to move the canvas when picking up the surrounding water. Jamie shook it out till it stopped dripping on the floor. He walked over to Duang and let him take it. “Just make sure to clear your head still.” He tapped Duang on the shoulder for support. “We’ll come find you in a bit.” Duang nodded and made his way outside.
The second he stepped out of the art building, Duang remembered how much he loved the campus in the morning. It was quiet, not because no one was making noise, but because you could hear the birds chirping and the leaves rustling in the wind. It was the type of atmosphere that you couldn’t witness once the day got busy. Duang took a deep breath in and out as he felt the sun slowly uncover and warm his body. He walked over to a nearby bench and propped his ruined artwork on it.
Staring at it momentarily, he shook his head and started on his typical route around the river bend that he took whenever he needed a moment of clarity.
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Qin hated mornings.
He hated coming to campus in the early mornings even more. Unfortunately, required courses didn’t care if Qin hated mornings or not.
Annoyed and tired, Qin made his way to the school’s neighboring café for an americano. On route, he knew he’d pass the decorative arts building. He planned to ignore the building like he usually did when something caught his eye. It was early, 7 o’clock on a Wednesday morning. No one was even walking along his path. Yet on a bench by the buildings entrance was a large canvas. Qin stopped his stride, staring down at it. It was a person, that much he could tell. Loud colors swirled around said person, blurring the face. It looked…troubled? Like the person was drowning in the colors—silenced and blocked from the world. Qin moved closer to the painting without meaning to. He examined it closely. It was rather pretty if he was being honest.
“Qin!!!”
Qin flinched at the sudden loud volume that interrupted his focus on the portrait. Duang appeared next to him, smiling but his body was tense, and his eyes didn’t crinkle like they usually did. “What are you doing by the art building?” Duang asked. He suddenly gasped sharply, startling Qin once again. “Did you miss me?!” he swayed his upper body whilst holding his hands to his chest. “As if.” Qin naturally responded.
He turned away from Duang to stare at the portrait again. Something about it was captivating. He couldn’t tell who was in the painting and somehow that made it more sorrowful. The array of colors blended together, turning into an icky brown. After moving closer, he noticed the face was blurred so intensely that he couldn’t make out the expression that existed before the artist covered it.
“Do you like it? You can take it if you want!” Duang offered brightly. Qin was so focused on the painting he nearly forgot Duang was practically hovering over his shoulder. Qin took a subconscious step back and tilted his head in confusion.
“It’s ruined anyways, so if you want it, it’s yours!” Qin narrowed his eyes as Duang took a step closer as he spoke.
“Why would I want it? Don’t offer someone’s work up so easily.” He blustered.
Duang’s whole body slumped as he pouted. “Aow! It’s mine and I can offer it up to the boy I like if I please!” Qin’s stern facial expression faltered before he corrected it. He’s still not used to Duang’s shameless advances.
“Again, why would I want your painting?” He folded his arms across his chest, facing Duang but stealing side glances at the canvas propped upon the bench. Duang looked at both him and the ruined self-portrait before leaning close into Qin’s personal space. “Well…you just seemed to stare at it longingly.” He spoke in a whisper, never breaking eye contact.
Qin felt his heart speedup and his nails dig into his bicep from where it laid crossed. It’s one thing for Duang to pursue him as loudly as he does. It’s another thing entirely when the man recognizes Qin’s deepest thoughts. Smiling softly at him, Duang leaned away and walked over to the painting. He examined it thoroughly and Qin noticed the tension in his body from earlier was back. Duang picked it up with one hand, turned over to Qin, and gently freed his crossed arms to place the canvas in Qin’s grip.
“Take it! If you don’t like it, throw it away!” Duang laughed, but it sounded sorrow. Just like the painting, Qin thought. “But keep it!” Duang added in a rush, “It’s a drawing of me.” He giggled as Qin’s eyes widen and his head snapped towards the paining. The face so stubbornly hidden by colors, but if Qin truly looked close enough, he could slightly make out Duang’s facial structure.
A voice called out from the distance, but Qin couldn’t hear it. “Coming!” Duang yelled in response, once again tearing Qins attention from the painting back to the man in front of him. “Bye bye Qin!!” Duang waved eagerly with his signature smile reserved just for Qin. Qin watched him run back to his friends and wondered if such a smile was on his self-portrait before it was covered. Qin zoned back in to the painting, holding it out further with both hands to get a better look. Duang’s words echoed in his mind.
It’s ruined anyways.
If you don’t like it, throw it away!
Qin immediately hated that idea. “it’s not ruined…” he mumbled. Touching the painting to check if it was dry, he tucked the canvas under his arm and continued his walk to the café for coffee.
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Duang slumped on his couch in relief—acceptance email from his professor still open on his phone. He was tense all day, scrambling for ideas to create a new project in less than 2 days that was still on par with his original project in case he needed them. With the knowledge that the picture he secured of his project before it got ruined will be accepted for a grade, he felt his body shut down. Duang doesn’t act the way he does to get benefits from faculty or students, but sometimes he’s grateful he remains on people’s good side in moments like these.
Jamie and Pae plopped down on the couch next to him with snacks for them to share. Jamie peaked over to Duang’s phone and gave a whoop.
“Alright! We don’t have to stay up and work on a new project.” He slapped Duang’s thigh, laughing when Duang glared at the sudden jolt.
“If I had sent that email for me,” Pae started, swallowing his mouth full of chips, “the professor would’ve send me packing!” he gestured to the door with his hand. Jamie laugh filled the room as he dramatically curled into Duang’s listless side. “That’s because you aren’t my glorious, popular, teacher’s pet—OW!!” He cursed crudely as Duang smacked his head and shoved him off. He jumped up from the couch and slapped his hands to his cheeks. His two friends stared in confusion at Duang’s sudden rush of energy.
This wasn’t a new occurrence, but they knew well enough that an energized Duang meant a Duang with a plan.
“Do you think Qin kept the painting?”
Or—it meant a Duang ready to pursue Qin now that nothing else was keeping him occupied.
Pae sighed as he made himself more comfortable on the couch. He tossed the bag of chips on the coffee table. When it came to Duang’s plots for Qin there’s no point in trying to eat. “Did you see him take it?” Jamie questioned, constantly lifting his legs back up to place them on Pae’s lap despite Pae shrugging him off. “I gave it to him.” Duang tilted his head while looking off to his side. Pae internally laughed, that look always appears whenever he’s referring to Qin. “Then there you go!” Jamie exclaimed. “Would Qin be so cruel as to throw something away given to him by the biggest lover boy in all of Nakhon Pathom?” Duang narrowed his eyes. “You’re making fun of me. Quit making fun of me.” Jamie just snickered in response.
Duang dropped down to sit crisscross on his living room floor and propped his head in his palm. He drummed his fingers on the nearby coffee table as he reflected on his encounter with Qin. “He seemed to really like it…” he mumbled. “Then give him more.” Pae shrugged.
Duang shot up straight at the idea, pondering it through his head. “What? Ruined pieces? Why would Duang give Qin his messed-up artwork?” Jamie counterpointed. “Who even keeps that stuff?” Pae scoffed at Jamie’s stupidity. He hit Jamie’s leg, still propped on his own legs, with both hands. “I didn’t mean his ruined—”
“I do.” Duang interrupted, causing both young men to turn their attention to him. “I keep my failed projects in my closet.”
“Duang—” Pae tried to speak again but was once again cut off by Duang standing right up and walking to said closet. Pae shoved Jamie’s legs off his lap and followed his friend—Jamie following close behind—to the medium sized storage closet in Duang’s room.
Duang wasn’t kidding. The door opened, revealing maybe hundreds of incomplete or damaged projects like paintings, sculptures, photo collages, even some microscopic architect models that were falling apart. “Woah…” Jamie whispered breathlessly. He always threw away ruined projects, the frustration not allowing him to keep it in sight. Based on the assortment of projects, Duang must’ve been collecting his ruined, unfinished projects since high school.
The closet was clearly made for clothes, yet there were hangers with string attached to them holding onto papers with different art ideas hanging off them. The top shelf where bins typically filled the space had stacks and stacks of canvases that varied in size. Pae was incredibly curious to know what was on them. Beneath the shelf, to the left were carefully placed sculptures of clay that were either chipped, warped, or partially painted. In the middle, against the wall, were two large canvases pressed back-to-back that were too large to lay up on the closet shelf. The middle walkway was practically none-existent. It was littered in rolled up pieced of paper, maybe some sketches Duang hated? The two friends noticed a single sketchbook thrown into the corner. To the right, Duang had 8x4 cube bookshelf laid on its side for it to line the wall. Inside the cubes where various photocollages, a stack of paper Jamie could tell was filled of body movement art, book binding projects, and some messed up loom weaving/yarn projects.
“Duang,” Jamie started, breaking the shocked silence. “Why do you have all this?” Duang shrugged, he shut the door and leaned against it. “It feels wrong to throw away something I worked hard on.” He paused to think, “Besides, I like looking back and seeing where I’ve improved.” Or haven’t improved his mind supplied.
“What was with the half-painted person?” Pae asked. Jamie scrunched his eyebrows; he didn’t remember seeing that. “The one on the big canvas, in the back.” Pae nodded his head towards the shut door behind Duang. “Aow,” Duang pouted, “It was originally a submission for a different college. They wanted a portrait of someone important to us.” Duang rolled his head side to side as he tried to put his thoughts into words.
His friends waited patiently for him. Any project in there most definitely has an important story to it. Duang’s a naturally loud person, but sometimes he refuses to speak about vulnerable things; his friends were even unaware that he originally applied to a different college. They didn’t show their shock or try to question him in fear that he’d never tell this story again.
“I tried to paint my mom, then my brother, then my dad, even you guys at one point. The canvas ended up so thin and ruined in pencil marks that I tried to paint someone over it. But no matter what I still couldn’t visual who I was painting, and the canvas was beyond ruined.” He sighed and shrugged. “At the time, I was applying in secret and couldn’t afford another large canvas, so I never actually applied to the school” he tilted his head to the side, mouth scrunched to the left. He felt awkward revealing something heavy suddenly, but this was Jamie and Pae—his two eldest friends.
“Wow Duang. I had no idea you were struggling with that…” Jamie trailed off. Duang must’ve tried to apply around their last year of high school. “I didn’t want anyone to know.” He laughed, “but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of the canvas, so I kept it…then I kept keeping things.”
“WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT” Pae exclaimed. “You’ve collected all those projects in a year?!” He couldn’t believe his ears. He thought Duang must’ve collected this throughout all their high school years, not just his final year! “Huh?” Duang leaned forward in confusion. “No, no” he shook his head vigorously, “I tried to apply in Grade 11.” Somehow that didn’t make things better.
All these pieces, Duang’s created in under 3 years.
“I really admire you; you know that?” Pae suddenly said—and he meant it. Duang broke into a smile as he bent his head down bashfully, hands over his heart. “AWWW Prachai, such adoring words…You really do love me!!” He held his hands out in a beam on either side of Pae’s face. “I love you too!” Pae rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Duang’s antics. “And he’s back.” Jamie sighed. Duang simply laughed in response. The kind of laugh that could light up a room and make the grumpiest man alive, crack a smile.
“So, you’re going to give these to Qin?” Jamie asked again, still not fully understanding Duang’s thought process here. Truthfully, when does he? “No!” Duang sharply raised a finger to Jamie’s face as he pushed off the door and leaned into his space. “Well not entirely,,” he leaned back some, “But something about that smudged painting stirred emotions in Qin. And I’m going to use these projects to get another heartfelt reaction out of him!” Duang smiled dangerously.
“And you’re going to help!”
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For how bold Duang was, he honestly didn’t have much of a plan of what to give Qin. For Duang to invoke emotions in Qin, he must understand what stood out to him in the first place.
Duang honestly had no idea. He huffed as he stared at the canvas paintings he brought down from the top shelf. Jamie and Pae went home once they realized the selection process would drag into the next day if they didn’t leave sooner rather than later. It was significantly late, and instead of sleeping, Duang stared at three paintings he remembers all too well.
One was watercolor styled painting of a vase and sunflowers that Duang painted in Grade 12. The vase was colored blue and the sunflowers seemed to droop sadly out of the vase rather than stand tall. The canvas was covered in swatches of paint, yet Duang somehow tried to paint a yellow-brown background coat over them. The swatches made ugly undertones around the canvas and stuck out like a sore thumb due to the difference in paint thickness. The background color never reached the vase and was simply colored around it. Duang didn’t even bother painting the flowers. He remembered painting this piece for fun at 2 o’clock in the morning trying to stay awake to fix his sleep schedule. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t straighten the flowers, nor did he remember to maintain proper brushstroke techniques. He giggled staring at the painting. He truly had such a fun time making it. No thoughts, just a brush and an artist moving it. He fell asleep mid painting.
The second painting was a failed draft for his finale of randomly selected scenery in his advanced high school art elective. Duang choice of location was his tutoring school, where his friends goofed off instead of studying. He finished his layout for the classroom, even finished painting it. However, the assignment required a minimum of 10 people featuring in it. Duang painted out 4 people: him, his friends, and the tutor before he got stuck on the rest. He decided to paint individuals he remembered sitting around him. In the row behind his, there were 2 girls that would always giggle during silent work and never failed to call out to Jamie, Pae, and Duang for a greeting. Since he turned to see them so often, behind them was a boy who sat by himself and two others in the row behind that one.
Four total rows, and only the first row was filled in his painting. Even with the five added people, he still needed one more face to reach his minimum. For the life of him, Duang couldn’t recall the silhouettes of his peers on the other side. He wanted it to be authentic, as if the painting was a picture capturing a live moment; so, he worked on the five figures first. He couldn’t properly draw out the mannerisms of the 3 boys in the back. They all seemed too similar, like they truly came from Duang’s faint memory. The two boys in the back specifically bothered him that he stressed himself too much about making it perfect that one of them remained unfinished. Between that and his inability to remember the other side of the classroom, he scraped his idea and went to his local park. There, he live painted a hiking trail and the people he found enjoying their day for his grade.
The third painting was another self-assigned project. Duang wanted to practice anatomy and oil paint at the same time. What better solution than to combine them? A gray background covered a medium sized canvas, on top of it were five drawings of a wooden anatomy doll. The positions varied—since Duang couldn’t think poses on the spot he put his real wooden model into yoga poses. Warrior Pose 1 and 2, downward dog, lotus pose, and shoulder stand. The painting itself was complete and the poses weren’t too off—it just looked ugly. The painting was cracked heavily because Duang was too stingy with his paint and didn’t allow it to dry long enough. And there were splotches of dark gray and brown from him over blending the gray with his brown scale for the figures. Still, Duang loved this painting because it shows him how far he’s come with his oil paintings. It’s his favorite art style to utilize.
The decision was difficult for him. Nothing stood out as a painting Qin would like to keep or feel a connection towards. Even if Qin didn’t keep it, Duang wanted to see whatever reaction the man gave to seeing it. After numerous hours of debate, Duang picked the third painting.
It meant a lot to him—the start of his journey for his signature style! Feeling good about his decision, Duang finally went to bed. He was smiley and giddy with anticipation as he curled into himself. He fell asleep visualizing how Qin would react to the painting when he saw it.
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Duang wasn’t sure how to present the painting to Qin. He sat on a hallway bench waiting for Qin to be dismissed from his lecture. The medium sized canvas that was faced up on his lap seemed to send Duang back for a moment. He traced the yoga poses with his index figure following each individual bend and curve. He hasn’t done a simple anatomy pose practice in a while. Maybe he should try to recreate these poses with human bodies versus a wood model.
“If it isn’t the lover boy!” Tong’s voice called out, interrupting Duang’s thoughts. Duang looked up and was greeted by Qin’s presence alongside his friends. “QINNN!” Duang whined, shooting up from his seat to stand in front of him. Qin instinctively leaned back with a frown on his face.
He looked down at the canvas in Duang’s hand before it was pushed directly into his line of sight. “Look! It’s for you.” Duang beamed, but to Qin, he seemed nervous. “What is it?” Kim butted in as he tried to peek at the canvas over Qin’s right shoulder. “It’s a painting!” Duang shook the object like it was obvious. “It’s mine.” Qin raised an eyebrow, “Why is this for me?” Once again Duang’s attention zoned in on Qin. Often, Qin found it difficult to engage in eye contact from someone whose gaze was so intense.
“Umm,” Duang looked down at the painting again with a tilt to his head. “You liked the other one so much!” He looked up at Qin with the kindest smile known to man—Qin couldn’t help but feel evil compared to it.
"I wanted to give you similar pieces of art.” Qin allowed himself to take a good look at the art in Duang’s hand. Similar pieces? As far as Qin was concerned this piece and the portrait had nothing in common. Duang shoved the painting closer to Qin which caused his body’s instinct to take over and grab it. His hands hovered over the edges when he noticed something wrong with the painting.
The colors were, well ugly. Blotches of gray and brown littered the painting and Qin was sure if he rubbed too hard on the left upper corner, the paint would fall right off the canvas. It’s not like he’s seen Duang’s art skills before. The portrait from the other day was the first instance if Qin remembers right. Comparing the stroke work and colors from that piece to this one, one looked intentionally crafted while the other looked sloppy. Qin couldn’t understand why Duang was giving him such a painting, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Too gentle to be called aggressive, Qin pushed the painting closer to Duang’s chest. “You forcefully gave me that other canvas, now you want me to take another?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not your portfolio.” Duang’s smile turned into a pout as he hugged the painting close. “Aow, I know that” he whined. “You just seemed so interested in my last ruined piece I’m showing you another.”
Tong and Kim both glanced at each other in confusion. Acknowledging that neither knew what painting Duang was talking about, they focused on the conversation between their best friend and his lover boy.
Qin could only focus on one thing. Because there was that word again: ruined. He wanted to ask what was ruined about either painting. The urge to know made him skin crawl but he couldn’t bring himself to get the words out.
“What do you know about my interests?” he asked instead, his face giving the impression that he truly didn’t care about anything else. Duang lifted the painting off his chest to give it a glance then looked up into Qin’s eyes. Qin held in a breath as Duang’s gaze never faltered. As if he was trying to read him. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” The words were said with a soft smile, a tone so genuine, that Qin tensed up. Something about Duang’s method, his words, his…personality, made Qin nearly willing to indulge in every stupid desire he can think of.
His curiosity, his fear, his heart, all wants to be opened and eased by Duang. And that’s terrifying.
“Well, you won’t figure it out with that painting.” He huffed out because what else was there to say? Duang’s face broke into a shy smile as he heard the implication in Qin’s words. “So, I can try another one?” he wiggled his face closer to Qin and finally Qin had enough of the conversation. “As if me saying no would discourage you.” He took a step around Duang and continued down the hallway in attempt to leave the building.
“Wait!” he heard Duang call out. And ever cursing his curiosity, Qin partially turned around. “Will you take it?” Duang held out the painting with one arm stretched across the distance between the two. Tong and Kim were still standing by Duang, unsure of when to move. Qin truly didn’t want to take the painting. He still couldn’t figure out where to put the other canvas. It sat against the wall by his desk, mocking him almost. But if he took the painting, maybe he’d be able to answer the questions he desperately wants to ask by himself.
With acted stubbornness, he took a step closer and snatched the painting from Duang’s hand. Without another word he took off to the building exit. He heard Duang squeal from behind him and he ignored the feeling of his ears turning red because of it. Next to Duang, Tong and Kim gave him a sharp pat on each of his shoulders. Duang jumped from the sudden contact but returned their smiles with an even bigger one. “Atta boy Duang!” Tong laughed, throwing Duang a thumbs up as he and Kim followed Qin out the building.
Duang sighed in relief. Even if Qin didn’t react like he did with Duang’s portrait, he took the painting. Which meant there was still some interest that Qin was hiding. He turned around to face the giant windows that ran through the music building.
He was happy Qin took the piece, but part of Duang hoped Qin would deny the painting, and he’d get to keep it. He fiddled with his hands, they itched to do something.
Making his way to the art building, Duang planned to recreate the very painting he just gave away.
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Qin stared at both of his “gifted” medium and large canvases that were propped against his coffee table. He sat on his couch with his arms crossed, eyes shifting back and forth between the paintings. He didn’t understand what was wrong with the pieces. Each painting provoked their own feelings and messages within Qin.
The large self-portrait of Duang that Qin barely recognized as the young man remained troubled looking to him. The person was hidden behind both ugly and beautiful splotches. He was vulnerable to the judgement of the world, but the truth, his expression, was carefully hidden. This piece wasn’t ruined. It was the physical representation of avoidance.
The other painting, however, gave Qin a sense of calmness. The colors weren’t pleasant to look at in the slightest. It blended poorly, the colors were some of Qin’s least favorites and yet—it fit. The yoga poses were beautifully drawn. Qin could only think of the world elegant when he saw them. Though the wooden figures had no eyes it seemed as if their eyes were peacefully closed. They were completely captivated in the moment.
The calm poses and harsh background completely clashed with one another.
Qin hummed, maybe this is the similarity that Duang meant. One painting seemed to get lost in the chaos while the other attempted to find peace within it. Against his best efforts, Qin’s face relaxed into a smile.
What could possibly be labeled as “ruined” within these paintings?
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“What about this one?” Jamie asked, holding up a basic sketch that Duang didn’t remember making.
“I took you to look at canvases” he said as he swiped the paper out of Jamie’s hands.
“Stop snooping!” he pouted.
“But it’s so interesting~” Jamie cried.
He had a mischievous grin on his face before jumping to grab more loose sketches. Duang whined, jumping after Jamie from his crisscross position on the floor of Duang’s room. Pae sighed as he watched his two friends. Never a dull day with those two, he thought. Unlike Jamie, Pae was attempting to find an actual canvas Duang would be willing to show Qin. Switching from canvas to canvas he paused at a smaller one with a familiar scenery. It was the trio’s high school. The place Pae met two childhood best friends that quickly adopted him into their lives. He smiled to himself as he recalled fond memories of their first interactions.
His reminiscing was cut short when he heard a sharp cry from Duang. “OWWW!!” Looking towards Duang and Jamie, Pae saw Duang hovering atop of their friend as one hand rubbed vigorously at his head. “Using a canvas is cheating. Those things hurt Jettana!” he huffed as he moved himself to sit beside Jamie, who was still laid out on the floor. Pae noticed a small frame in his hand, hovered perfectly over where Duang’s head once was.
He signed once again at his friends’ antics. “Jeez! You’re both so unique at this point.” He shook his head at them. Jamie finally shot up, making Duang jolt next to him. “Do NOT insult me by grouping me with Duang’s stupidity.” Duang made an offended noise as he smacked Jamie’s back hard. “OW!” he cried. Duang giggled and stuck his tongue out.
Pae laughed at them. Even if they were unique, they were uniquely his. “Oh, Duang.” Pae waved his hand near Duang’s space to get his attention. “Huh?” Duang shuffled forwards on his butt, using his legs to propel him closer to Pae’s spot on the floor. Like a dog wiping their ass on carpet, Jamie thought with a laugh. “What about this piece?” Pae asked, holding the painting in view for all three friends to see. “I remember that piece.” Jamie commented. He moved closer to Duang’s left side and leaned against his shoulder to get a closer look. “This was our distortion project, no?” Duang nodded in confirmation. Pae raised his eyebrow.
“Why didn’t you turn this in? It’s complete.”
It didn’t make sense for a complete piece to feature in Duang’s closet of incomplete/ruined projects. “Its complete but the teacher told me it wasn’t distorted properly when I showed it to him! So, he gave me extra time to make a new one.” Duang took the painting from Pae’s hand and really examined it. Honestly, this guy. He doesn’t realize it, or maybe he does, but he gets away with things regular students could only dream about.
“Why give it to Qin?” Jamie asked, moving to take the painting from Duang. “Why not give it to Qin?” Pae and Duang said at the same time. They turned to each other before laughing at the synchronization. Jamie rolled his eyes at them and threw the painting into Duang’s lap—accepting this piece will now belong to Qin.
“I like this one!” Duang smiled.
“Then keep it.” Jamie said annoyingly.
“I like it for Qinnn!”
“For Qinnn~” Jamie mocked.
𑣲⋆｡˚
Duang found Qin sitting on a bench by the music department, waiting for his class that starts in 20 minutes. Qin’s eyes were closed. He was completely immersed in the music playing from his headphones. Duang walked up to him and leaned close to his face, smiling gleefully at Qin’s beautiful expression.
Feeling a shift in his space, Qin opened his eyes. Immediately zoning in on two eyes staring back at him, he gasped in surprised and leaned back. Once he registered the eyes belonged to Duang, his face turned sour. “How do you always know where I am?” he tilted his head in annoyance. Duang smiled so sheepishly that Qin knew he wouldn’t get an answer from him.
“If you’re here to give me another painting…” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure what threat followed that, but there certainly was one. “Matter of fact! I am.” Duang beamed. He fished a small canvas, no bigger than the width of someone’s legs, out of his tote bag. “For you!” he held out the painting in a bow so deep that Qin wondered if he’d hit the floor before stopping.
Qin’s eyes subconsciously fell to the painting in Duang’s hands. He blinked multiple times before realizing it wasn’t his vision failing him. The picture was blurry and unfocused. For a moment, Qin was in awe. He wasn’t aware someone could paint a blurry picture much like that from a camera. “Where is that..?” Qin muttered, unaware that his inner thoughts quietly slipped out. Duang heard it, however.
“It’s my high school!” Duang crouched down by Qin’s feet to look up at him. Qin was momentarily startled. He didn’t expect Duang to answer him so easily. “This is where I met Pae! And spent a lot of time in extra tutoring with Jamie.” He smiled happily as he told Qin anecdotes from his high school years.
His gaze shifted between the painting and Qin. As if the visualization of his story was being shown on the canvas. In a way, Qin thought, he supposed it was. “Anyway, I wanted you to have it.” He gentled placed the painting in Qin’s open lap. Qin stared at it once again. Was this another “ruined” piece? There seemed to be nothing wrong with his art. In fact, this piece was beautifully captivating.
Why was it blurry?
Why the school entrance?
Why high school and not college?
When did Duang paint this?
So many thoughts played through Qin’s head. Questions he longed to ask but refrained from doing so. He slowly brought his hands to the painting. He could feel Duang’s eyes staring into his soul as he gripped the art piece. He wanted this one. It reminded him of the drowning portrait Duang drew. When he shifted his gaze to Duang, there the man was, smiling happily.
“You like it…” he whispered, tilting his head gently as if he just witnessed something precious.
Qin didn’t know what to say. He did like it—and that was the problem. He looked off to the side and attempted to regulate his breathing.
Brring!
Both young men jumped at the sudden sound of an alarm clock from a phone. Right. Qin’s class.
Qin always set alarms five minutes before he had to report to class because of how often he gets lost in his thoughts. Despite setting the alarms himself, he finds them annoying. Always interrupting his thoughts or daydreams. Startling him with an unfriendly reminder that it’s time to return to reality. This time, however? This time he was grateful for the interruption. He shot up from the bench, painting in hand, causing Duang to nearly lose his balance and fall on his butt. With Qin standing up, Duang quickly followed. “I have class.”
He side stepped Duang and began walking to his Advanced Music Theory 101 course. “I can walk you to class!” Duang offered but didn’t move to follow Qin’s stride. “No.” Qin ordered slightly more bitter than he wanted. He heard Duang pout at the rejection, but he accepted it full earnestly. Qin could feel the man slowly wave goodbye as his face remained in a pout. Ignoring the fact that Qin remembers Duang’s mannerisms well enough to know what he’s doing without looking at him, he continued his path to class.
𑣲⋆｡˚
It could’ve been seconds. Minutes. Hours even. Qin wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at the small canvas. He was sitting at his desk with the painting propped up on his computer monitor. Every tilt of his head caused him to notice a new detail in the painting.
The red blobs on the trees. Apples? Flowers?
A backpack that was left by the gate pillar. Why was it there? Why was it clearer than anything else in the picture?
There were blurry silhouettes traveling through the open school gates. Qin could see a clock on the top of the school building. Did school just start? Or was it dismissal?
He turned to the right, Duang’s large self-portrait was still placed against the wall as Qin had nowhere else to put it. The paintings were both blurred but looked drastically different.
The small canvas was distorted everywhere, expect on the backpack, forcing the viewer to zone in on it. Was it abandoned? Or was the holder of the bag amongst the blurry silhouettes? The large canvas, however, was only distorted in a stroke. The entire face was covered, and the expression was lost. Qin could make out Duang’s hair and clothes but not his face. Even the pose got lost in the muddy colors.
But something was off.
Qin could tell the intentions were different. Either Duang’s art style changed, and he learned a new technique when blurring paint, or he never actually meant to smudge his self-portrait.
In the small canvas, despite its distortion, there were details that stood out in every section. Details of life you are meant to know existed even if you can’t see it.
In the portrait, it’s muted and lost to the audience. It would strike the audience harder if they could see what expression Duang was hiding. Maybe that’s what made this art so pitiful and troubled. Was that the intention? Qin groaned as he pushed away from the desk and left the chair. This was frustrating him immensely.
He needed to know the story behind these paintings. If Duang even had a story. Qin huffed to himself, knowing Duang he probably just threw something together. Unaware of the emotional turmoil such a painting could stir. Why are these paintings so conflicting? Qin thought. He walked over and slumped sideways on his couch.
“I want to know…” he muttered with a sigh.
𑣲⋆｡˚
The next time Duang had a painting for Qin, despite his best efforts, a question slipped.
“Why isn’t it colored in?”
Both Duang and him froze. It was a mutual class break for the two of them and Duang suggested they meet up at a bench by the river. The question left Qin’s mouth before his brain could catch up. Truthfully, he desperately wanted to know. Up until now, the paintings Duang has given him has been fully colored, even if it looked ugly. Yet here this painting was, half colored and half sketched.
The canvas was medium sized much like the yoga art. The perspective looked down at a table occupied by clusters of a puzzle. It was a puzzle of a bedroom. Qin could tell that much by the puzzle pieces in the center that created the image of a bed with beige sheets pressed vertically to a wall. The puzzle wasn’t finished, and the connected pieces were clustered around to reveal different sections of the room. A barely visible nightstand to the left of the bed, paintings on the wall. To the left of the nightstand was a small cluster of a colorful closet. Around the incomplete puzzle laid numerous puzzle pieces that were waiting to be placed.
This was the part that confused Qin. Some pieces weren’t colored in like the bedroom was. There were puzzle pieces with the scenery of a patio, which didn’t make sense for a bedroom puzzle. Not to mention the uncolored couch puzzle piece. Qin also noticed that while the puzzle pieces were all roughly small in shape, there were some pieces that looked rather large in comparison. One of the few scattered colored puzzle pieces had canvases lining a wall and Qin could see a nightstand to the side of them. It looked like it would fit the room perfectly. Yet the puzzle piece was the wrong shape for that gap, and 3 sizes too big. One piece had a mirror and was cut out to fit in the empty space by the closet. Yet it remained uncolored.
Duang took a good look at Qin with a guarded expression. As if he were studying Qin’s own thoughts and feelings. He smiled while he shifted closer and adjusted the painted to fit between their legs. Qin immediately stiffened at the proximity. “I never finished it.” Duang said, head turned to look at Qin. Qin looked back with furrowed eyebrows. What did he mean he never finished it? “I made this piece after getting inspired by a self-reflection prompt.” He traced the stray puzzle pieces with his left index finger as he spoke. Qin’s eyes traced the movement.
“This here,” he pointed to the center puzzle cluster, “is my room.” Qin nodded in acknowledgement. He figured the room was related to Duang. Duang didn’t add on to his explanation. Was that it? It’s not colored in because he never finished it. So why show something incomplete?
“And you never finished it?” Qin whispered.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Duang tilted his head away from Qin in contemplation. “Honestly?” he asked. Qin looked him in the eyes and hummed a yes. Duang sighed. “The point of the piece was to blend scenery together. It’s my room, yes, but it’s supposed to look like a collage of things that make me—me.” Qin held his breath as he felt the mood shift. Duang stared at the painting with emotions Qin had never seen on him before.
“I couldn’t think of things to incorporate. So, I drew the first things that popped into my head: my living room, the garden, things like that.” He turned to look Qin in the eye. “Eventually I couldn’t think of anything else, so some of the pieces I placed remained empty.” Duang laughed then.
“Since it was a personal project, I left it like this once I lost the inspiration and stored it away.” His eyes drifted back to the painting. Eyes fixated on the closet.
Qin stayed quiet while he processed what Duang just revealed. “So then…” Duang’s eyes met his once again. “Why give it to me?” there it was.
The question he’s been pondering since the self-portrait. Out in the open for Duang.
He smiled, “It’s what I’ve been doing!” Qin stared at him and Duang realized he doesn’t understand what he means. “You liked my self-portrait, didn’t you?” Qin hesitated before softly nodding in agreement. Duang let his giddy emotions surface in a victorious smile before shaking his head aggressively with a deep exhale. “I didn’t expect you to agree.” He giggled. When Qin’s face remained unimpressed, he continued his story.
“You seemed so…” he paused to find a good word, “enamored by it.. I wanted to see you have that expression again.” Qin felt his heart rate spike at Duang’s words. He forced his face to stay monotoned. “Since the piece you liked was an accidental piece, I thought similar pieces were the best place to start to find that expression again!” he smiled at Qin. Eyes bright and warm.
Accidental piece. So, Qin was right to suspect that Duang never intended to smudge his face for that self-portrait. But…
“Have all the pieces been accidental?” he asked, the curiosity to strong to end the conversation now. Duang shook his head. “No. It’s a mix of ruined and incomplete pieces. So, I don’t count them as real art.” Qin’s eyebrows scrunched again in confusion.
Don’t count them? It’s still work Duang’s done. Until this one, all the pieces looked whole to him. That counts…doesn’t it? To rule them off as ruined, poor work, seems belittling does it not?
“I don’t understand why you liked that portrait so much.” He spoke softly. “But maybe you’ll like these too.” He nudged the canvas between them upwards with a twitch from his leg. Qin stared at him in fascination. Duang’s lips turned up mischievously. “And then, you’ll fall for the artist behind them.” He leaned in closer. Qin eyes widen at Duang’s shift in demeanor and immediately felt frustrated. He lifted his arm in a threatening punch causing Duang to shriek back and cover his face. Yet he was laughing.
Qin slowly lowered his arm, his attention going back to the painting. He still has questions. He got the story for this piece. What about the others? Before he could debate if the moment had passed or not, Jamie’s voice called out for Duang in the distance.
“Come on! Class starts in 5 minutes!” Duang sunk into himself with a pout at the reminder. “But I’m with Qinnn~”” he whined as he gripped onto Qin’s shirt with his left hand. Qin instinctively looked down at it.
“Duang, you can talk to him later. The model’s only there for the first 40 minutes of class.” Pae scolded, coming into view. Duang sighed harder this time. “Fine fine.”
He bounced up and shifted to face Qin. “Duang has to go now!” They both looked at each other, unmoving. “I’ll miss youuu~” he sang leaning closer to Qin’s face. It was then that Qin pushed him off with a huff. “Enough. Get going.” Duang hopped up from the bench with the painting in his hand. Turning back around he placed the canvas in his spot.
“I’ll leave this here. If you don’t want it, just leave it there.” He smiled softly at Qin. “I’ll pick it up after class.” Before Qin could react, Jamie and Pae walked over and gripped Duang by the collar to drag him to class. “Say bye bye Qin.” Pae ordered, dragging Duang away with a quickness. “BYE BYE QIN!!” Duang screamed as his feet struggled to keep up.
Qin watched the man disappear towards his building. He felt stunned by all that happened. He looked down at the painting to stare at it once more. He grabbed it and placed it in his lap with a sigh. He doesn’t understand. If Duang colored in the whole piece as it was instead of giving up, the piece would’ve had a whole new meaning.
A self-reflection collage: except the artist doesn’t understand what makes them unique. Therefore, pieces are basic, hollow, and so different in size that they wouldn’t fit no matter how hard they tried. It would’ve been a representation of the unknown. Instead…it’s as hollow as those empty puzzle pieces. Self-discovery was never attempted, let alone thought of. To mark this off as “not real art” frustrated Qin beyond any means.
He knows what it’s like to feel lost. To lose yourself in the chaos around you that even when all seems calm, there’s an internal storm that’s never rested. Qin doesn’t know who he is either. It’s comforting, but sad, to know someone as bright as Duang struggles with thoughts like these. Even if Duang can’t see it, his art screams “notice me” “notice something that proves I’m here”. A soft melody that tries to not drown during a harmony. Unaware that if it simply sang without hesitant strain, it would be the most noticeable of them all.
Qin sat up straight with a quickness. That’s…exactly how Duang’s art appears to him. Multiple melodies, be it in harmony or clashing, there’s a single constancy that’s desperate to be heard.
An idea.
Qin just had an idea for a music composition. He took off to the music studio in a rush, adrenaline rushing through his body as his mind began constructing beats and time signatures. Would it start fast? Slow? How did it end? Where would there be clarity? Should there be any?
As the thoughts raced through his head, Duang’s puzzle painting remained clutched in his hand.