GREY SUIT
Chapter Zero

❛ Spring fades, summer beckons. ❜
Thursday 24th June 2021

The serene moon beams enveloped the dusky furniture of the crowded room with its shimmering light. Silkily, the curtains danced along to the tranquil birdsongs that broke through the still night, the soft material was delicate all three sets of them soared out of the window, still attached to the thin metal rods of the windows. On the ledges of the finely polished, wooden windows, were heaps of gracious plants, their tendrils curling outwards and almost touching the moon's surface.

Everything was still. Just how Ahn Ye-Jun liked his evenings.

It was the perfect condition to work on one of his many paintings. As per usual. It became a habit; a routine.

With a pair of gold rimmed, circular glasses upon the bridge of his nose, Ye-Jun let his hands grip tighter around the angled brush, so that he could get around the more intricate areas of his work. His balmy skin was paled from being awake during ungodly hours, where the moon would expose itself to the night, and all through till the morning, where the sun would awake for her day shift and let the moon rest. Every stroke was fine, tiny, as Ye-Jun tried his hardest to fill every blank gap of the canvas.

With only the dimmed string of fairy lights that graced every dark corner of the room, it flickered tinily, a tell tale sign that they were in need of replacing. But Ye-Jun wasn't bothered to change his only source of lighting. Furrowing his eyebrows, he leaned closer, the peeling stool beneath him squeaking as he put all of his weight upon the front of his seat.

This was just one of his many paintings within his room, one that was mainly a workspace. It had a slightly sloped floor, for he lived on top of his grandma's flower shop, which was angled tinily on a gentle hill. It was unfortunate at times, though, for the walls weren't well insulated, meaning, that when winter hits, the temperatures impact each room harshly, just as it would feel outside. There were miniature meandering cracks that engraved themselves along the surface of the bricked walls, often vines would slither through them, though, Ye-Jun never cut them, and let them infect his walls.

Through the double doors that could slide together and shut, was his sleeping area, it wasn't spacious, and was definitely not horribly small either. It was simple, one that differed majorly from his work space.

Every sculpture and every painting that Ahn Ye-Jun has ever made, was always kept within the dark. For none other to spectate, none other to gawk nor admire at. Perhaps his grandma in some cases, but no soul that lurked beyond the walls of his humble abode, has stepped foot on his very own miniature museum. It was only for his heart to peer at, and for his own artist's hands to touch. Ye-Jun's room was strictly prohibited from any other soul to see.

A muffled knock resounded around the compact room.

"Ye-Junah . . . are you sure you don't want any dinner? It's already eleven o'clock." The knocking continued, "Ye-Jun?"

After the second gentle sound of knuckle against the back of his door, Ahn Ye-Jun slowly arose from his seat, the legs scraping against the floor. Reaching over towards the side table that was situated beside his bookshelves, he paused his record player, that had his sage green vinyl, which rotated from the centre spindle.

"Oh Halmeoni!" In a haste, Ye-Jun untied his apron and flung through the double doors of his sleeping area, so that it landed on his bed. Gingerly, until his fingertips were raw red, he scrubbed at his fingertips with a thin piece of tissue. Recomposing himself, Ye-Jun jiggled his shoulders slightly before swinging the door open, only placing his face between the small crack of the door. "I'm here."

Almost releasing a sigh of relief, the tension within her chest faded away when her grandson was still in piece, and not knocked out from hunger. "I asked if you wanted dinner. It's going to go cold if you don't have it now, and if I re-heat it later it won't be as enjoyable."

"Hmm . . . well." Pulling a sullen expression, as if he were thinking deeply about his decision, Ye-Jun then let his soft hued lips morph into a childish smile, "can I guess what it is?"

"Sure."

"Hmm . . . pot noodles?--"

Letting her jaw fall open slightly at those words, his grandma reached forwards and waved her arm in front of him as if she were to attack him in pretence, "you're always asking for pot noodles, you know they're unhealthy for you!"

After holding back his amused chuckle all along, Ye-Jun let a softened grin break through as he scrunched up his nose from freeing his entertained laugh. "Okay, okay, I know," he paused, before adding, "then . . . if it's not pot noodles I won't eat anything-"

"I made dakjuk porridge."

After clasping the door shut tinily, Ahn Ye-Jun swung it open entirely, his raven hair flying up lightly during the process, "you know uh, Halmeoni, when I said that, I was only joking, I," scratching his cheek briefly with the tip of his fingernail, "I love everything you cook and eat everything you cook, you know that, right," blinking harshly, the sides of his mouth twitched tinily as he tried to create a widened grin upon his timid face.

"It'll be ready in fifteen minutes," she put her palm in the air, shortly, to dismiss it all, before heading towards the other direction.

"I love you Halmeoni!" Almost half-yelling down the small hallway, a toothy smile enlightened his face, as both sides of his cheeks warmed at what he was to have for dinner. "Halmeoni?"

Even after his dinner, Ahn Ye-Jun was only motivated more to complete his half painted canvas. With the stylus needle scraping against the thin lines of the vinyl, every mellifluous melody filled the corners of the dulled room. He had a collection of vinyls that sat in the dusty corner of his room, one that was almost concealed by the heavy shadows of the growing plants on his windowsills.

Every so often, he had to pause, so that he could exercise his wrists gently, massaging them so that they weren't prone to arthritis, since his hands were always at a stiff angle whenever he painted.

The music came to a halt, the silence that followed, beckoned him to replace it or to play onwards.

Ahn Ye-Jun lowered his paintbrush, letting it sleep on top of his paints that were within small jars and were settled upon his easel. Dusting his paint splattered palms against the material of his fraying apron, not caring about the blue speckles that decorated his cheeks, Ye-Jun removed the vinyl from the record player.

Crouching beside the crate of vinyls, that had a few strips of wood peeling from its surface, he smoothly flicked through the series of vinyls. Carefully, as the splintery wood of the crate always poked and jabbed at his fingers, which he always clumsily found himself falling victim to, explaining the cow printed and flower illustrated bandaids that littered some of his fingers.

Tattered labels, that were strung through rough twine and wrapped in a small bow around the casing, had scrawly writing written in biro. They had track names ranging from: Christmas tree, Summer Rain, Love Poem, See the stars . . . Grey Suit.

Balancing on the tips of his toes, still squatting, Ye-Jun almost landed on his back, when his slippers lost its grip fro a few seconds, causing him to let out a miniature yelp. Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Ahn Ye-Jun glided his hand along the surface of the casing for the vinyl, before taking it out--

Clatter. Something plastic had slid across the floor, causing him to pause, pupils widening as his pulse drummed hastily from the noise.

"Huh? . . ." Tilting his head slowly to the side, an abundance of perplexing emotions followed in suit, creating his lips to pucker tinily at the object. "Strange," murmuring under his sleepy breath, Ye-Jun's fingers latched around the discarded USB stick that tumbled from the wooden crate. The corners of the sunny yellow device, glimmered under the fluorescent fairy lights, almost emitting in a way that represents a halo. It's funny how something that has connotations of excitement and curiosity, and is so small, can be found in the dustiest and unthinkable places. "I don't . . . I don't remember owning this? . . . Halmeo--" He then paused. Did he want to share this with his grandma? Shaking his head gradually, Ye-Jun stayed mute, not finishing his sentence.

Clasping it within the palms of his hands, he tapped the metal part of the USB stick against his chin, surveying the studio, his eyes met with the old style, vintage television, that was rooted under the widest window to the room. It wasn't the latest model, and had a grainy filter on it whenever you played a show, or anything else really. Most times, you had to pat the top of it with force, so that it would start up properly, other than that, it was useable.

"Ah, got it," blinking then brightening up, a proud smile illustrated itself upon his champagne pink lips, "damn I'm smart, my Halmeoni would be so proud of me right now." Ballroom dancing with himself briefly due to his minor achievement, he peeked around the side of the television and inserted the USB stick, never second guessing what could lie within it, not even having the notions of the possibilities of it being a virus or even inappropriate footage.

Within that moment, he only let the vivid lights of the television fill his room, and even switched the fairy lights off. Ahn Ye-Jun's extreme puzzlement took ahold of his attention, not even caring if the darkness could damage his eyes.

He was intrigued-- the moment the USB stick rolled its content, all sound around him dwindled into, almost, nothing.

Even the crickets that accompanied the birds, began to whisper their songs. Leaves on trees rustled then calmed by the delicate lull of the night breeze. The fireflies that dotted the air, like animated shooting stars, seemed to let their light dim, only letting the footage on the television emit its own light, enlightening not only Ahn Ye-Jun's room, but some of the garden outside too.

Ahn Ye-Jun watched . . . not knowing how the greyness of his room began to dissipate away by the overbearing colours that were being emitted from the television.

DEAR ALL,

Previous readers-- hiiii yes i've edited and changed this chapter, i have a better idea on how to write and portray this story.

Present-- this story will go off the storyline of business proposal in volume one, but in volume two, i'll start to morph the plot of business proposal alongside my own scenes too! i do hope you enjoyed this i'm like so excited for this i have so much time on my hands now that i've finished my end of year exams hehe. hoping you guys are loving this?

thank you for the votes on this story too!! it really motivates me and the comments too >~< please please please don't be a ghost reader-- guiltily, i do that sometimes, but it really helps me be motivated with this story going forward. to be honest i only ever write for myself and write since i adore it, but one comment or two wouldn't hurt anyone, would it? ^~^

thank you all again, see ya besties in the next chapter, where we get to see what ahn ye-jun is watching on the tv. there will be a lot of our beloved summer references so look out for those hehe.

WITH LOVE, SYLVIA.