The Emotion Behind His Eyes

It’s often suggested that the most difficult part of the human body to paint is that of the hands. Many artists over the years have echoed this belief, with some even going so far as to avoid painting them altogether. However, as Kim Yu-jin observed the crowd of art collectors passing him by, he could not help but think otherwise. Hands were simply a mixture of muscles, angles, and lighting. There was never anything hidden beneath the surface—no hidden truths in the shadows, unlike the eyes of the influencer perfectly posed in front of Yu-jin’s most recent piece.

To Yu-jin, hands were one of the first things he mastered, for they were far less likely to challenge his gaze when he stared; but the same cannot be said for the human eyes. One cannot stare into another person’s eyes without risking the chance of them staring back at you, and a gaze speaks of many things to those that look closely. The eyes of those around him spoke volumes, in fact. Yet Yu-jin couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, since his gaze never lingered long enough to find out.

As the influencer moved on, so did Yu-jin. Quick to abandon his designated section of a gallery wall and the shadow of non-existent patrons, he made his way through the crowd in search of solitude. Once under the protection of the night air, he pulled out an old lighter on the verge of death and a pack of smokes. Punishment for his lungs, but an old friend to his pessimism. Like a painting come to life, Yu-jin found peace against a damp brick wall behind the building. The only sounds came from a pair of women gossiping about a K-pop idol’s security guard and the slow drip of leftover rain. The peace turned bitter as the women neared.

“Did you see that guy? He kind of looks like an idol, don’t you think?”

“Oh please, you think every brooding artist is a heart-throb.”

The sought-out moment now gone, Yu-jin’s attention drifted away from the unwelcome duo. His eyes eventually settled on a digital bus stop billboard across the road. He sighed as the image changed from a business advertisement to a comeback promotion. The dark visuals contrasted with the tagline, in nocte solacium invenite, written in neat calligraphy underneath four figures. It wasn’t long before the image faded, but the phrase still lingered. As he pulled himself back into reality, he turned away. The spark of his cigarette drew its last breath.

“Nox pacem meam furata est.”

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The last of the cigarette’s smoke disappeared into the rain. With little reason to linger outside, Yu-jin pushed through the gallery’s rear entrance and stepped back into the warmth. An elderly gentleman stood beside a collection of clay teapots arranged along a nearby display. His attention briefly shifted when the door slammed shut, only to drift away again as another guest approached.

Unlike Yu-jin’s collection, the elderly man’s display had various red stickers beside most of his pieces. As Yu-jin made his way to the center of the room, he noticed the same pattern repeated across nearly every other display. That observation wasn’t necessarily surprising; however, it still managed to cause a knot to form in the pit of his stomach. A painful reminder that if today didn’t go well, a forgotten cigarette was the least of his worries.

With half a mind to take the loss and head home, Yu-jin reluctantly looked through the crowd in search of a familiar face. The act wasn’t a difficult one, as the room seemed to be closing in with a low selection of muted colors of fabric, and the individual he sought out was anything but.

Apart from the occasional artist, most attendees were dressed in their most acceptable attire. That is to say, bland. Not that Yu-jin was in any position to criticize. What his own clothing lacked in shape and branding, it made up for with the ability to blend in— just as he’d intended. This way, he was able to fade into the sea of guests with ease as he made his way towards the most likely location of the sole reason he bothered to show.

There, amongst a large crowd of various socialites and collectors, stood the closest thing the gallery had to a ray of warmth. Adorned in a custom viridian suit-jacket with hand-stitched detailing, Yu-jin’s Sunbae commanded the eyes of those around him.

As an art gallery owner, he was known for his eccentric style and modern decorum. A man who puts his clients first, and his own commission last. A breath of fresh air in the industry, or so Yu-jin’s professor once said; and as his Sunbae’s eyes caught sight of him, he couldn’t help but agree. Although, he would never say such a thing out loud.

“YU-JIN!”

Half the gallery turned at the sudden outburst and looked around to see who could have possibly earned the attention of their beloved host.

“There you are,” Sunbae said as he draped an arm over Yu-jin’s shoulder, guiding him away from the crowd. “I was just about to come find you.”

“Well, here I am.”

“Why must you always wander off? I’m more than happy to help you network.”

“And witness the natural wonders that are your business deals?” Yu-jin raised an eyebrow as he stared at his Sunbae with earnest amusement. “Hard pass. If anything, my presence would only spoil your fun.”

A familiar look began to creep across the man’s face, causing Yu-jin to hesitate for a moment.

“On the contrary, you must have done something right.” Without sparing Yu-jin a second glance, his Sunbae held up his hand to a passing waiter and picked up two glasses of champagne. “Tell me, have you made any new friends recently?”

The smirk emerged with full force, slowly developing into a lopsided grin.

“Minjae Sunbae,” the warning in Yu-jin’s voice was immediate. “What did you do?”

Instead of answering, Minjae pressed a champagne flute into Yu-jin’s hand. The other, his Sunbae lifted with practiced grace.

“Cheers! To my hoobae,” Minjae’s smile brightened, replacing his smirk as if it never saw the light of day. “May he use this opportunity to learn basic socializing skills during his final year as a student.”

As Minjae lifted his glass to his lips, Yu-jin’s defenses fell. His own glass almost slipped from his grasp as the words registered into reality.

“Hold on, are you implying that I sold something?”

No longer able to contain himself, Minjae laughed wholeheartedly and clasped his hand onto Yu-jin’s shoulder.

“I know you had your doubts about today, Yu, but it seems you have a long-standing admirer.”

After downing his champagne in a single gulp, his Sunbae discarded the flute on a nearby table and spun Yu-jin in the opposite direction. There, beneath every frame, sat a red sticker.

For a moment, Yu-jin wondered if he was looking at the wrong wall.

“All of it?”

“Every single one,” Minjae said, reaching into his suit pocket. “And they were more than generous with their purchase.”

After much hesitation, Yu-jin accepted the envelope offered to him and looked inside, nearly dropping it as his hands began to shake.

“This much?”

“Yup.” Minjae looked off in the distance and nodded his head towards the front desk. “I was quite surprised as well, but the gentleman I spoke with was insistent that his boss would offer no less.”

“Which one?”

Yu-jin’s hands tightened around the envelope as his eyes scanned the room. The look on Yu-jin’s face was enough to make Minjae pause.

“It’s the gentleman with my secretary. But hold on,” Minjae’s brows knotted as he stepped towards Yu-jin. “You’re not going to refuse the purchase, are you?”

However, Yu-jin was already across the room. At least, he would have been if not for the crowd. Much to his irritation, he had taken an overcrowded route in his haste, and in doing so, found himself delayed as others mingled. It wasn’t until Yu-jin had reached the front desk that he noticed the gentleman’s absence. Then, spotting the gentleman heading toward the front entrance, Yu-jin moved to follow.

“Sir, wait!”

The burst of cold air hit Yu-jin as he ran through the glass doors, his lungs burning from the sudden exercise. With a gasp for air, he paused to look around. The empty street stared back at him, but the need to meet his buyer was stronger. Letting that urgency lead him, Yu-jin walked a few steps down the road with his eyes scanning the parked vehicles for movement. He was just about to reach the corner when he spotted a luxury car parked with its windows rolled down. The gentleman, who Yu-jin quickly recognized as a personal assistant, was crouched beside one of the back windows and speaking in a low voice to whoever sat inside.

It was at that moment that Yu-jin’s anxiety caught up to him, causing him to hesitate. He had almost turned away; however, just as he decided to do so, the vehicle’s occupant leaned into view. The sight took only a second to register, but the mere recognition caused Yu-jin to stumble backwards in disbelief. What had once been deep gratitude to a generous buyer was now nothing more than ash. Quickly burnt to a crisp by a hatred he never thought he would have to revisit.

“Ajax?”