Work of Art ꫂ𔓘
- After weeks of battling art block, you finally found inspiration in your vocalist boyfriend.
Pairing: Lead Vocalist! Jungwon x Art Student! Reader Content: 1.7k words | Hurt/comfort, a dash of romance, and overall an appreciation fic for our dear leader, Yang Jungwon. A/N: Phew! I can finally post again after life had me on chokehold. I hope you will enjoy this one, and fyi, this fic is slightly inspired by a k-drama called "Twinkling Watermelon" :)
“Hmm, I need more blue.”
Orange sunlight streamed through the window of a tranquil art room, casting a soft glow upon a half-finished canvas. Its painter, you, were busy mixing two primary colors to create the perfect shade of purple you had envisioned. Your tongue sticking out in concentration, and soon your lips formed a triumphant smile once you achieved your desired result.
You hummed as you continued your painting, occasionally muttering to yourself in the process.
“No, that’s not it.”
“Oh yeah, I’m such a genius!”
“This is the most horrendous piece of art I have ever created in my entire life. I have shamed my entire bloodline.”
Hours passed, and with each intentional brushstroke, the painting was finally finished. You were satisfied with your hard work and took a couple of pictures of it to post later. Then, you carefully moved the canvas to the back of the room to let the paint dry overnight. Since you were planning to bring it home tomorrow, you made a mental note to prepare a large tote bag to carry it in.
Art had always been your life’s calling, your ultimate passion. It all began in childhood, when the walls of your home became the first victims of your budding talent. You earned quite an earful from your mother, but your father only laughed it off. Until now, he had never allowed anyone to paint over your messy scribbles, forever treasuring his beloved daughter’s initial masterpiece.
Truthfully, it was your father’s heartfelt laugh and the sentimental way he looked at your drawings after a tiresome day at work that kept you going all these years. You remembered thinking you wanted to keep making him happy. If that was what it took, so be it. You’d create a thousand and one paintings solely for him.
Therefore, your love for art blossomed even more.
Instead of begging for toys, the younger version of you would cry for a set of 48 colored pencils. Rather than excelling in science competitions, you were collecting trophies and certificates from prestigious art contests.
Unfortunately, you were soon faced with a serious predicament.
Every artist's worst nightmare: art block.
You couldn’t seem to finish a single painting lately, always scrapping everything midway.
You despised it because it was such a waste of your time and your art supplies.
“What is wrong with me?” Your pent-up frustration manifested in a freshly made, bloody red ‘X’ on your sketchbook. The next thing you knew, you tore out that paper, crumpled it, and threw it into the trash bin.
Some people would say you were spiralling, and you’d agree.
After all, the deadline for your national art contest was in a week, and you absolutely had no clue what to present. Not to mention, you had to compete against hundreds of other applicants to meet the judges’ high standards.
Only the best could win.
There was no room for imperfection.
“I must not fail,” You massaged your trembling right hand, applying pressure to your paint-covered palm over and over again.
One single thought blared internally: If you failed at the one thing you did best, then what value did you have left?
It was a new day, but the same problem still plagued you.
You scribbled absentmindedly on your sketchbook, letting your pencil move aimlessly. You barely registered what your boyfriend had been yapping on for the past thirty minutes.
You heard Jungwon call your name from time to time to check on your attention, and you’d respond to him with a simple nod. Meanwhile, your eyes were glued to your sketchbook.
You were not aware of the exact moment he went silent, but you did notice his grip on your wrist. It snapped you back to reality, and you sheepishly made eye contact with him.
Jungwon was unamused, evident in the way he raised an eyebrow and the slight downturn of his lips. Yet, his hold on you remained steady and careful, never harsh.
“What are you thinking so deeply about when I’m right in front of you?” His gentle caress felt hot and tingling against your skin. Your grip on your pencil weakened, and he removed it with ease so he could intertwine his hand with yours.
Jungwon was never capable of being angry with you.
But he was so needy.
“Is that sketchbook more interesting than me?” You took a deep breath to calm your heart before replying to your adorable boyfriend.
“What are you saying? How can a sketchbook even compare with you?”
“Well, you seem to love it more than me.”
You shook your head lightly, a small laugh escaping your mouth. “I’m just waiting for inspiration to strike me, that’s all. I’m sorry for not attentively listening to you.”
“But do you at least understand what I was talking about?”
“Yes, I do! Obviously…”
“Then tell me what you think of it.”
You stalled before answering, your eyes drifting to the side of the classroom as you searched for an excuse to leave. He sighed before guiding your face back toward him by the chin. He disliked the way your focus kept drifting away from him when he had been missing you so much. With how busy the two of you had been lately, it was hard to spare time for each other.
Still, his irritation swiftly melted away at the sight of your rosy cheeks. A mischievous smirk was formed once he realized he still had that much of an effect on you, even after years of being together.
“Honestly, if I made you that awestruck, you should just use me as your inspiration.”
It was as if a switch had been flipped in your head, and now everything was crystal clear. You suddenly stood up with fierce determination, radiating strongly which surprised even him.
“Thank you, I love you, see you later!” You rapidly said and kissed him on the cheek before he could protest. That earned him a chorus of teasing giggles from his classmates.
“Good job today, everyone!” Once the music studio emptied out after the band practice session, Jungwon’s cheerful demeanour dropped instantly.
Being the frontman was never easy, especially when the band's spirit was at its lowest after a recent defeat. He had to push himself even harder to keep everyone moving forward. Because if he gave up, everything would eventually fall apart.
The role of a frontman came with immense responsibilities. He was the beacon of sound that guided his bandmates while also shaping the public's perception of the group. During times of crises, everybody sought him to settle matters with dignity and composure, believing he always had all the solutions.
That was why he stayed for another hour afterwards to train his vocal once more. He was struggling to reach a certain high note for the past few days and it made him grow restless. There was a certain expectation that people set upon him and he was driven to fulfil it.
A harsh cough echoed through the music studio, signalling that Jungwon was pushing himself past his limits. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he cleared his sore throat. Still, when he pictured the audience eagerly waiting for his band's performance, he decided to continue practicing for a few more minutes.
When he exited the music studio, the sun had already set. There were barely any students around, so he didn’t expect you to rush towards him with a bright smile on your face.
Jungwon naturally forgot how tired he was.
“What is this? Why is my girlfriend so excited to see me?” He narrowed his eyes at you playfully like a wild cat. A wide grin on his charming face, his iconic dimples showing.
“You’re acting as if it’s not normal for me to do so.”
“Well, you have been avoiding me for the past few days.” It baffled Jungwon at first when you had been secretive around him for unknown reasons lately. But you constantly assured him that you would explain everything once the timing was right. It didn’t stop him from being excessively curious though.
“Are you finally going to tell me what you’ve been up to?”
“Yup,” you laughed, amused by how quickly his eyes lit up. “Come with me.” You tugged him along by the hand toward the art room.
Once the two of you were inside, Jungwon was faced with a large canvas hidden by a thick white cloth. He looked back and forth between you and the canvas, as if doing so would magically reveal its content.
“Wait! Cover your eyes first for dramatic effect.” Jungwon rolled his eyes but followed along at the end. You made an enthusiastic ‘dun-dun-dun-dun’ as you pulled the cloth away, ending it with a loud ‘tadaa’.
Jungwon was left in awe. He reached out tentatively to the remarkable piece before him, feeling its rough texture underneath his fingertips. He took a few moments of silence to appreciate its beauty.
“Is this… me?”
This painting that was titled ‘Twinkling Garden’ showed the image of a young man performing in front of his audience underneath the blinding spotlight. His devotion was highlighted through the small details that could be missed at first glance, in the way his veins rose beneath his skin as he gripped the microphone with unwavering intensity.
But what captivated his attention the most was his expression.
He didn’t simply look happy- no, his stage presence made it look like he belonged there. As if singing wasn't merely something he did, but something he needed, as essential as breathing itself.
“I’m worried that you try too hard sometimes, and you lose sight of what’s the most important for you,” you stood next to him, resting your head on his slightly shaky shoulder. “Your happiness. You shine the most when you perform earnestly, Jungwon. You’re enough and nothing can ever change that.”
He sniffled and erased the tear that was trailing down his cheek. If it weren't for you, he would have lost himself to the pressure that had been weighing on him lately. He tore his gaze from the painting to tenderly kiss the top of your head.
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Always.”
‘Twinkling Garden’ had helped you bring home the gold medal from your national art competition. Therefore, you gifted it to him in the hope that it would help him too, either giving him comfort or becoming his lucky charm.
That painting was now framed and hanging in his bedroom, above the desk where he displayed the photographs of the people he held dear in his heart.
