#jihyun x mc
Jihyun X MC Fanart ><
!! some spoilers for Seven Route ahead, read at your own risk!!
If Jihyun’s photographs represents happiness and hope, her paintings represents sadness and despair.
~
One.
Sadness. Void. Eyes. Person.
These were always the theme of her works. As if crying out the repressed memories from her unconscious.
She always finds herself and her exhibited works along with a collection of hopeful, bright and beautiful photographs of a man with a pseudonym of V. Not that she hated it, but when she asked the museum coordinator on as to why she could not hold her own exhibit, their answer would always be the same.
“Balance.”
“One cannot coexist without the other.”
Again, not that she hated it.
As time passed by she found herself getting used to it, and understanding why the coordinators always put them together, like yin and yang. People would see her watercolor artworks first, complimenting the emotions they convey. Some would even shed a tear or two, and in some occassions, even cry at the sight of them. It hurts her too, yet she felt pride in her works. After all, she sees them move on from the depressing artworks unto the happiness and hope brought by his photos.
She thought, it was like a process in life; people go through something bad, sad, and challenges they have to face, but at the end of the day something that brings joy and hope to them will always brighten up their day.
However, despite being the shadow to this light, she never met the man behind those photos. She also became one of the thousands of his fans, who never saw him.
It’s always a thing with artist, one cannot easily disclose who they are in public, afraid of the attention if known who they really are. That is why they use pseudonyms. She understands more than anyone else. In fact she also tries very hard to lie low in the public eye, yet gives it her all on the industry.
She is an author under a name of Daffodil, also an artist under a pseudonym of Lilley, short for Lily of the Valley.
Both were not her real name.
Her thoughts were cut short when someone started to stare at her new artwork along with her.
“It’s a compelling artwork.” A man with beautiful mint eyes and hair complimented her painting. She saw him look closely at the latest artwork, entitled ‘The Sorrows of the Sun.’
She looked around, only to see him smile at her.
“Oh. Uh, so what do you think about it?” She asked him. The man’s lips curved up into a smile, yet she can see the sadness behind that beautiful eyes of his. It is like, he can see something beyond the sorrow depicted in the painting.
“It’s like the sun, which the artist portrayed as the man was struggling very hard to keep the life of those who are under him, represented by the woman and the flowers of daffodil beneath them. Blue tears, represent the agony coming from the both of them.”
He got the message.
“I see. That’s a very artistic view of this work.” She kind of felt happy that someone finally understood it. Since she hanged it no one truly understood the message it portrays. Yet, she felt as if the man with the teal hair and eyes can truly relate to the said artwork, as if he had gone through it.
“The sun, is a mighty being here you see.” She traced the glass where the artwork was placed. “It can give life, it can also take away life, without realizing it. He tried his best to give the warmth and love to those who are under him. But, the excess light it gave off brought drought, eventually killing those special to him, which also brought him sorrow and despair.”
“It’s powerful, and sad.” His lips trembling with each word coming out from his mouth. “Yet I could not say it is not entirely beautiful. It’s captivating in its own way.”
“It’s something that goes with this artist’s works. They are never the symbol of happiness.” She answered, with a confident smile in her face.
“Lilley means the short for Lily of the valley, am I correct?” He asked, he was now facing her. The melancholic expression he wore earlier was now gone.
“Yes, I think it meant ‘return of happiness,’ in the language of flowers.”
“That’s a beautiful meaning.” He mumbled, but enough for her to hear. They locked eyes, although his face was a blur she knows how good looking this man is, and his mint eyes speaks of curiosity.
“My name is…”
His phone rang, just as she was expecting for him to introduce himself. 'It’s a shame,’ she thought, she can rarely meet someone who truly understood her most complicated artworks. Nevertheless, she excused herself first, leaving the man alone to continuously look at the painting.
“Hey!” She hears a faint voice, but she can’t see anyone but the light, the man and the painting, and the bouquet of white daisies and baby’s breath in her hands.
“Am I dreaming?” She asked herself, but she was sure this happened for real.
A card was next to the bouquet of flowers, with a letter from the sender;
Lilley,
I always wanted to see your paintings. Ever since the day the coordinators said that I’ll be doing exhibit with a painter, I became curious of what your world would be like; what kind of message do your works portray, what color palettes you use in order to convey such melancholic yet beautiful paintings. Now that I met you, I was thrilled to finally meet the person behind them, I was able to know more about a lot of things and to reflect on myself. Especially, the work entitled “the sorrows of the sun.” By the way, I forgot to introduce myself, I’ll talk properly to you next time. I look forward to see your paintings in the next exhibit. Thank you, Lilley. I hope the happiness returns in your paintings very soon.
-V
“Keep awake! I need you to stay with us!” A man… with long brown locks was shaking her. His face was a blur, she could barely register what he was saying. Next, there was a woman’s scream. It’s full of pain and agony. It pains to hear it so, not due to the pitch, but to the emotions that dwell behind it. Even so, it momentarily kept her aware of the situation.
How did it come to this…?
Oh… right.
She took a bullet for him.
Her hand went unconsciously to the wound, warm blood gushing out of it. It stained her hoodie a darker color. She thought that the blood would be hard to wash off later. Vanderwood held her in his arms, as if he’s the only one who knows what to do in the midst of the chaos they are all in.
So was she dreaming, or was it the last minutes of her life? Flashing through her mind in a very realistic way?
With each passing second she could feel her consciousness slipping away. She closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was the familiar pair of mint colored eyes she loved the most.
