Chapter 5: Art Exhibit

The next few hours consisted of Jaejoong showing Yunho his paintings, and telling him the stories. He was fascinated by everything he was shown. “How do you think our dreams are connected?”

Jaejoong shrugged, putting away away a painting of a beach. “Magic? Fate?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

Jaejoong paused, staring at the next painting in the stack. He did, but every time he told someone, they rolled their eyes and told him to get his head out of the clouds. “Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“I do.” Jaejoong licked his lips, repressing the urge to smile, and grabbed the next painting. It was of the London Eye with Yunho posing like a tourist smack dab in the middle of it. “How do you remember your dreams so vividly?”

“Practice. I started by writing them down whenever I remembered. I started remembering more of them, so I wrote down more. Eventually, I just started painting them. That really helped.” When Jaejoong turned, Yunho was staring again. Big eyes looking at him so peacefully, showing he was listening to every word he spoken. It was enough to make him blush.

They didn’t make it to the end of the pile, but Yunho promised to come back to see the rest.

A week later of their dreams together, Jaejoong was interrupted from painting his recent one by rapid door knocking. Loud thudding echoed against the walls, never stopping. Jaejoong sighed, taking his time to walk to the door.

He didn’t even have a chance to look at who it was before the person barged in. “I remember our dream last night!” Yunho tossed his shoes in the corner of the entrance. Jaejoong looked at the clock.

“But that was nearly four hours ago.”

“I, uh, got a little distracted. But that doesn’t matter! Oh my god!” Yunho covered his face with his hands, swirling in circles, with a smile peeking between his fingers. “That was amazing! The scenery was just so--ugh! And the, the water! The lights! The lights, too! Just--wow!”

Jaejoong smiled, watching Yunho pace back and forth, messing up his hair from the excitement. “Did you write it down?”

Yunho froze, and stared at him. “N-not yet.”

Jaejoong headed into this room, Yunho following, and dug around his closet until he found an unused notebook. He handed it to Yunho. “There’s a pen on my desk.”

“Can’t I just use a pencil from your stash?” Yunho pointed to the pack of graphite pencils by his canvas.

“No! Are you crazy? These aren’t for writing!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll use the pen, Miss Diva.”

Jaejoong sighed, returning to the painted dreamscape. That’s when Yunho hovered over his shoulder, tingling the hairs on the back of his next from his breath. Jaejoong repressed the urge to sigh and snap at him, instead focusing his attention on painting. It didn’t work.

Warm and bulky arms wrapped around his waist, and Yunho planted his face on his shoulder. Jaejoong’s heart skyrocketed as his hands wobbled. Yunho took in a deep breath, holding it in a few seconds before releasing a steady stream. “You smell good.”

Soft and barely above a whisper, even though they were the only two occupants in the room. Jaejoong licked his lips, trying to figure out how to reply to that. He didn’t want to disturb the peace, so he slithered his own hand on top of Yunho’s, lacing his fingers over the pair of hands as he went back to painting.

At one point, Jaejoong heard birds chirping over the sounds of cars beeping. A quick glance to his left, he saw the window had opened. Yunho must have done it. He wasn’t in the room, but he heard footsteps still bustling around the apartment.

They developed a routine after that. Jaejoong would wake up, and start painting. A few hours later, Yunho would barge in, and tell him what he remembers. Then he’d grab the journal he “accidently” left and start writing while Jaejoong went back to painting. He’d open the windows after he was done, hug him, make peanut butter and jelly, and leave after they ate lunch together.

Unfortunately, the blissfulness only lasted a week.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Jaejoong stared above at Yunho. He opened his eyes, and once he noticed the seriousness of his face, drifted down, landing on the puff of clouds. He gave him that look, that told Jaejoong he was listening.

Jaejoong shifted his body so he was facing Yunho. Strands of clouds reacted to the movement, floating up a few inches before disappearing. He was acting on a impulse. A gut feeling that told him he was right to assume Yunho liked him, and he’d be damned if he didn’t act on that impulse.

Jaejoong took a deep breath, and forced his heart to calm itself. “I...Can we go on a date? An actual one.” He held his breath, watching as Yunho’s face turned from excited to contemplative. Yunho never answered. He turned away, and for a second, Jaejoong could see a hint of horror expressed on Yunho’s face before he disappeared.

Waves of doubt and regret instantly flooded him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Yunho just wanted to stay friends. Maybe he was coming over and hugging him in a friend way. And, of course, buddies make lunches for each other. Yep. Perfectly platonic.

Then his mind began racing at all the possible ways Yunho could react. Not coming over, avoiding him in both real life and his dreams, and change his job again. The only chance Jaejoong to see him again would be to run into him randomly on the sidewalk, or store, or something.

Or, Yunho could simply never mention it again. Continue visiting, and being in his dreams. And Jaejoong was fine with that. He didn’t mean to put their friendship at stake.

A week later with still no contact from Yunho, Jaejoong was told that he had quit the restaurant a week ago. That was the second time this bastard disappeared. He was tired of chasing after Yunho. He was damn tired of always being the one to find him and explain his actions. Well, not any more.

Jaejoong scrambled from his bed, and rummaged through his dirty laundry. A few minutes later he pulled out a crumpled napkin. Luckily, the numbers were still visible. For one, he needed the money, and two, he needed to get rid of those memories. Those paintings that captured those heart-stopping moments. Keeping the paintings would only serve as a reminder for what he cannot have. 

“Hello. This is Kim Myungsoo speaking.”

“Yes, uh, my name is Kim Jaejoong, and I’m calling about a partnership in an art exhibit. Yoochun recommended you?”

“Jaejoong? Oh! I was expecting your call weeks ago.”

“Yeah, sorry. Things came up.”

“I don’t know how much he’s told you already, but I’ll repeat it, just in case. It’s not a building. It’s an open field. That special area in Springs Park, you know the place, right?”

“Yeah. That specialized concrete area on the side?

“That’s the place. Anyway, all I need is the money.”

 “Wait. Yoochun said you found a building?”

“The cheapest one I found was 100 grand.”

“Oh. How much is it? T-the park, I mean.”

“We’re splitting it, so say, 5 grand?” He didn’t realise it so expensive for just a slab of concrete. “Hello? Are you still here?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still here. Um…” Jaejoong bit his lip, his head running with calculations. “You know what, can I call you back?”

“Sure. The deadline is in two weeks though.”

“Sure, sure. Yeah. I’ll call you back.” The phone line ended, beeps ringing in his ear before he could hang up.

A quick check in his bank account said he only had a few hundred to his name, including the work he did for Junsu.

Jaejoong sighed, running his hair through his fingers as he paced the room. Strippers make good money. But he can’t dance. And he definitely wasn’t going to prostitute himself. Jaejoong scrolled through his contacts, calling Yoochun.

“What?” Yoochun asked when he picked up the phone.

“Hello to you too. Listen, I need money.”

Yoochun yawned, and only breathing could be heard. Jaejoong was about to shout at him to wake up, but he spoke just in time. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Get me a job at your job.”

“...Wait, aren’t you Junsu’s assistant or something?”

“But I don’t get enough money! Yoochun, please, I need money.”

Yoochun sighed, and was quiet for another few minutes. “How much do you need.”

“Five thousand.”

“What the fuck. Why do you need so much money for?”

“The park. I called Myungsoo. He said buildings are too expensive so he got a section of the park.”

Yoochun sighed. “Fine. I’ll get you a job.”

“I love you, Yoochun.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I better get something out of this.”

“Would you like a portrait?”

Yoochun burst out laughing. “I know you can’t do shit with portraits.”

“I’ve been getting better! What do you want?”

“I dunno. Surprise me.” Before Jaejoong could ask further, the call ended.

------

A week passed and Yunho still had no idea where was. At least, he thought it was a week. It’s hard to keep track of days when he’s blindfolded and kept in the dark.

“Alright, Mr. Jung. Let’s take a look at these bruises…” The footsteps stopped close to him, and he felt the pizza breath of someone breathing on him. Hands turned his face on both sides before the other’s knuckles cracked when his fist flew across Yunho’s face. Metal scraped across his cheekbones, and a sharp pain could be felt all the way to his toes.

Yunho yelped, thrashing his head to the side. A familiar warm wetness could be felt on the side of his cheek, and soon enough, blood trickled down. All this for some money.

The pizza breath disappeared, and on came a foot on his crotch. It didn’t feel good in the slightest, but his crotch seemed to have another idea. Yunho wrapped his fingers around the rope that bound his hands together, clenching it until his hand burned and biting his lip until it pained too much to keep doing.

The foot lifted and cloth was stuffed in Yunho’s mouth, with duct tape forcing his mouth shut. Silk was then wrapped around his neck. That’s when they started choking him. Tears came to his eyes, staining the black cloth as he tried to gasp for breath through the wad of cotton. He passed out in the lack of oxygen.

-----

For the next two weeks, whenever he wasn’t working, Jaejoong would talk about the art exhibit to anyone willing to listen. Randoms on the bus. Coworkers. Followers on social media. He even made flyers, and hung them around the rich neighborhoods. A small part of him was hoping that Yunho would somehow find out, and show up, but the rational part of his brain was beating that part of him with a stick. He knew it was impossible.

The day of his art exhibit, Jaejoong had the worst morning he had ever had to date. First, he forgot to replace the bar of soap from the shower, then he lost his comb.

But then his luck declined after that.

His clumsiness decided showed up at the worst time, and he ended up getting a scraped knee, and a broken plate. Also traffic. There was a huge accident—some idiot tried to make a U-turn and another car, probably late to work, slammed right into the side of it. Fractured skull, broken leg. Both cars were totaled.

Jaejoong’s next two hours were spent running around like a madman trying to make sure everything went smoothly. Of course, nothing did. For one he left two paintings back at his apartment, and spent the better half of the morning in traffic.

A light bulb blew out, so Myungsoo offered to get one since he was already done. Unfortunately, he got the wrong light bulb. By now, Jaejoong was cursing at anything that moved or was out of place. Stupid leaves. Stupid painting that’s 1 inch off center. By the time Myungsoo came back with the correct light bulb, it was time to open.

Everything sailed smoothly once it opened. There was a steady trickle of people, but come midday, there were a lot more people than he expected. Junsu and Yoochun even managed to visit in between their busy schedules, albeit separately. With so many people, he was also able to calmly talk to those interested, and managed to sell a few of his paintings.

Jaejoong knew what would get them to buy his paintings. He told them exactly how he came up with the paintings, and they all loved it. He would miss his paintings, but he needed the money more than the sentiment they held.

Jaejoong was chatting with an older couple when a familiar body moved in his peripheral vision. Yunho was standing in front of a painting,, hands held together loosely behind his back. He was facing away from Jaejoong, but he would know that body anywhere. Even though it was hidden over a too-big, too dark for summer long sleeve shirt.

As Jaejoong walked closer, he saw glimpses of the painting of the city Yunho was looking over. Their city. Then he saw the bruise around his neck.

“You never told me about this one.” Yunho didn’t even glance at him, causing Jaejoong to become a little spooked. Jaejoong couldn’t help but stare at the other's profile. Cuts and bruises scarred around his face, some of them still red. All of them visible from the outdoor lighting.

Jaejoong swallowed the dry lump forming in his throat. The feeling of a constricted throat rose his panic meter. This was not happening. “I was saving it for last. It was our first dream together. You grabbed my hand, and you ran as fast as you could.” Jaejoong chuckled a little, reminiscing. “This painting is what I saw. The sight that you showed me. I had no idea who you were, or why you did that.”

Yunho finally looked at him, showing the full extent of his bruises for a moment before he nodded and stared back at the painting.

“Jaejoong.” This was the first time Yunho had said his name. When Jaejoong didn’t speak, Yunho continued. “I don’t know how our dreams are connected in the way that they are, and it scares me. But I’m sorry. For leaving.” Yunho was looking right at him, giving him that look Jaejoong didn’t know how much he missed. The one that told him everything is okay, and he’s listening.

Jaejoong nodded. “It’s okay,” was all his lips could muster to throw out, when, in fact, it wasn’t. Every time Jaejoong had found him, he ran away. Every time Jaejoong tried to take initiative, Yunho closed up. And now, he was selling his paintings because he believed Yunho left him. It was his turn to talk now.

Yunho sighed. “I didn’t really mean to run away like that. The timing of your confession was not the best time. I was found.”

Jaejoong stood up a little more straight, eyebrows creasing together. “Found?”

“Let’s go on that date. I really didn’t mean to run away. Please forgive me?” Yunho turned his whole body facing Jaejoong, and gripped his shoulders. How could Jaejoong ever say no to those big, watering eyes that looked at him like that?

Jaejoong licked his lips and nodded. “All I want is for you to come back.”

Yunho froze, and stared at the ground as he let go. “I don’t think I can. Not yet.”

“Why not?” Jaejoong’s knuckles cracked as he crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed at the other. “Why do you keep running away nearly every time we talk to each other?” He had raised his voice, and now people were looking at the two.

Yunho bit his lip, looking around like he was debating on where to say something or not. He waited until most stopped looking at them. “I just owe some people money, okay? I don’t want you to get involved. Just give me your number. I’ll text you where I’m working. Okay, Jaejoong?”

Jaejoong could only glare until his name brought him back to earth. He didn’t feel like talking anymore. “Yes, yes. It’s okay. Actually, there’s a stack of business cards that have my number on the table by front. You can take one of those.”

“Thanks.” Yunho hesitated a moment, looking at him with scared eyes before he pat his back, and made his way to the front. Jaejoong stared at the painting until he was sure Yunho was gone. Money? Why would Yunho need to borrow money? 

Then it hit him what Yunho had said. His heart quickened, as blood pooled into his face. All this time Yunho was just bad at communicating his feelings. That still didn’t excuse him for always leaving at the most horrible time.