"You succeeded on your own son, you proved that you could live up to your family."

These words were cold and would not have seemed to anyone to be the compliments of a father. But for Taehyung, they were worth everything: even though he didn't like his father, they were his father's first words that gave him the feeling of existing other than as a disappointment in his eyes. Although he couldn't express it to anyone because of his excessive pride, it was precious to him. 

Yet, even if he wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, he had a friend, more precious than anything in his eyes, who could guess it without him having to say anything. After all, Taehyung and Seokjin had lived together since childhood and had never left each other's side since then, through the good and the worst times of their lives.

And it was together that they had just passed their exams and graduated, even if Seokjin didn't have a wealthy and powerful father who he could make proud, only his mother and grandfather who were simply, but sincerely happy for him and who rewarded him with brand new football equipment. And that was more than enough for his happiness. Because he was a simple person, a dreamy boy who was satisfied with simplicity. He had graduated and his family was happy: he was happy. 

No one was throwing a party for him like for Taehyung? He didn't care.

Indeed, proud of their son's success as they had been for Namjoon's a year earlier, the Kims decided, as they had for Namjoon the previous year, to throw a reception in honor of Taehyung's graduation and his upcoming entry to the Eunma.

Of course, Seokjin, even if he had also successfully graduated, was not invited. It was a social event where only powerful friends and business partners of the Kim Group could participate, accompanied by their families. Jimin's family, the Parks, had also been invited. 

But there were not only the family partners since in their arrogance, the Kims, wanting to show the success of their family through their children, had also invited rival families. Also, the guest list seemed endless and many people had been hired to ensure the perfection of the service.

In mid July, on the evening of the long-awaited event, while the whole house was in turmoil, Taehyung summoned Seokjin to his room. After dodging numerous employees who were taking care of the final preparations and most of whom he did not know , Seokjin made his way to Taehyung's room, ignoring the closed door to Namjoon's room who was probably getting ready too. 

Upon entering, Seokjin's nose was immediately assaulted by a delicious smell of musk. Far from attacking it olfactorily as Taehyung's previous perfume had done, this one was intoxicatingly sweet and Seokjin couldn't help but take a long, noisy breath in to smell its scent again.

"Do you like my new perfume?"

"Yes, it smells really good!" Seokjin answered sincerely. He then realized that Taehyung had stopped wearing perfume since he reconciled in the hospital. Did he do this for him because he couldn't stand the smell of his new perfume at that time? He asked with a smile : "did you change because I didn't like the other?"

"Don't make yourself more important than you are," grumbled Taehyung who, however, seemed pleased that Seokjin liked his new scent. "It's a luxury perfume that I wanted to test for the party, that's all."

"You still stopped putting on the other since the other time," Seokjin reminded him.

"Because I didn't like him that much actually."

"Ah okay," Seokjin said, suspecting he was lying. "Anyway, my nose thanks you!"

Taehyung mumbled that he didn't need thanks since he did this for himself and not for Seokjin, which made the latter laugh. Then he showed him two full suits perfectly fitted that had been taken out of their protective cover, and delicately placed on Taehyung's bed, which was used for nothing but to put objects on it since no one ever slept there.

"Help me choose one for tonight," he said.

"For the party tonight?" wondered Seokjin who thought Taehyung should have chosen his costume long before.

Taehyung nodded and let him carefully observe the two suits to give him his opinion. But between these two black suits accompanied by a white shirt, Seokjin had trouble seeing what differentiated them.

Seokjin had already noticed that for several years, Taehyung placed a lot of importance on his physical appearance and clothing. The older he grew, the more fashion trends made him order new clothes from the biggest European luxury brands. If he said the two suits were different, then Seokjin believed him, but he felt like he couldn't tell the difference between a Dior suit and a simple suit from a low-end boutique.

"Tae, they are the same, I'm looking but I see no difference!!" he protested despite everything, frowning.

"Pfff really, you really don't know anything about art," Taehyung retorted smugly.

Seokjin pouted. He knew he knew nothing about art, he was just a sportsman. Taehyung, on the other hand, had developed a particular interest in luxurious crafts – clothing, leather goods, perfume, food... – and for which he spent lavishly. Or rather, his parents spent lavishly. He kept saying that it was art but compared to the paintings, poems, and other works of art from museums that Namjoon offered himself, Seokjin could not see art in those.

"But these are just clothes! Where is the art?"

Taehyung rolled his eyes.

"I never imagined I'd say that one day but you've become pretentious Jin!"

"Eh? But why do you say that?"

"It's pretentious of you to say that it's not art, knowing that you consider football - a ball that rolls on the ground for over an hour with twenty-two sweaty guys hitting it! -  to be an art."

Seokjin thought and his eyes lit up.

"But football really is an art that can be mastered and is absolutely beautiful when mastered well, trust me," Seokjin said proudly.

"Have you become self-centered without me knowing? That thought about art isn't just for what you like, other people think it too for things you don't like but that they like."

"You're upset ? I'm sorry if I offended you," Seokjin apologized, feeling like he was intactful. But he never needed to show tact with Taehyung and always said what he wanted.

"I'm not upset but I want you to understand that if you can say that about football, then you have to admit it's the same with high fashion! It's not just clothes, as you say, it's suits made by two very different designers. So make an effort and look better!"

Taehyung was definitely upset. But Seokjin realized he was right. He, who hadn't seen it that way, suddenly felt a bit self-centered as Taehyung said. He had always put forward what he loved above all else, football, and Taehyung, even if he did not like this sport, accepted that it was important to him and took an interest in it only for him, because he was his friend.

Yet for his part, he had never tried to be interested in what Taehyung liked and now and now he was belittling what was close to his heart and seemed to want to share with him. Seokjin felt like a terrible friend and promised himself to pay more attention to it from now on.

"You're right Tae, I've never see it that way," he admitted. "Can you show me what sets those suits apart and makes each of them so special? So next time I can see too the subtleties you can see."

"Do you really want me to show you?" Taehyung said, genuinely surprised.

He had always felt like he was taking more steps towards Seokjin than Seokjin was taking towards him, but since he also knew that he was responsible for having pushed Seokjin away from him, he was convinced that he was the one who should go to Seokjin and not the other way around. Yet, that didn't mean he didn't want Seokjin to be interested in him willingly.

"Yes, I want to understand so I can see things the same way you do," Seokjin agreed with a smile. "It must be amazing."

Taehyung, who had such a hard time relating to people, seemed to have developed an intimate relationship with the material world. Indeed, he seemed to have a unique look at certain creations that he considered unique and was attached to the beauty and singularity of these works of art. Seokjin wanted to share this amazing look with him, he had just decided.

Without being aware of this, Taehyung was so happy that Seokjin was interested in his passion that he didn't hesitate for a second, and his enthusiasm reminded Seokjin of his own passion for football. It was nice to see Taehyung like that rather than grumpy like he was more often than not. Taehyung pulled him by the hand and said to him with a lot of gestures:

"Come closer and look carefully. This one has silk satin tip lapels while this one is embroidered silk. In addition, we can see when we are close that neither the texture nor the patterns embroidered on the fabric are the same, even if it is so delicate that it is not visible to everyone. Here, touch."

Seokjin let Taehyung stand behind him and gently guide his hand along the fabrics. The movement was so slow that Seokjin, with his fingertips, seemed to feel the smoothness.

"Can you feel a difference by touching?"

"Ah yeah, both are soft but I think I feel the difference between the two. And I think I also feel some relief on it," he remarked.

"It's embroidery. A really delicate one. Art isn't something that just feels with the eyes or the hands, it's mostly the heart that sees it," Taehyung taught him with a sensitive intelligence that Seokjin had never seen him. "Only in this way do you really feel the heart that the artist put into his work."

"The heart?" Seokjin repeated, perplexed.

"Yes," Taehyung nodded. "It is not an industrial production in large numbers, each piece is unique and handmade and keeps in it the feelings of the one who created it."

It was not easy to understand but Seokjin then remembered a sentence he had read one day in a children's book, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. It was a book that Taehyung had lent him and which, suddenly, no longer appeared to him as a children's book : "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." 

Seokjin wondered if it was this book that had taught Taehyung to see art with his heart. He also wondered if, by closing his eyes, he could feel the heart that the fashion designer had put in their creation.

"Should I close my eyes?" he whispered involuntarily.

"Yes, try," Taehyung told him. "Let yourself be carried away by what you feel inside of you."

Seokjin nodded and closed his eyes and let his own heart dive into a world of fabrics and softness as Taehyung still guided his hand.

No longer concentrating on the visual appearance, but on deeper sensations, he then felt, under this softness of this light fabric easily discernible by everyone, almost imperceptible patterns which intertwined in a kind of unknown language, or rather unknown for everyone except the one who had traced them. They were propping up countless, and Seokjin, following the curves of those arabesques his eyes couldn't see, felt like he was whirling with them, and his imagination replaced his vision.

He imagined shimmering fabrics passing through the expert and damaged hands of a man of whom he saw only a blurry face. His nose still breathed the intoxicating smell of French perfume and the blurry face then clarified to take on the Caucasian features of a Frenchman. This face was old but two lively and wide open eyes were focused on his work behind half-moon glasses. 

Around him soon took shape a workshop with an antique sewing machine and mannequins covered with clothes all more singular than the others. Seokjin imagined Taehyung wearing one of his very unique clothes and it made him smile imperceptibly. Obviously, he couldn't imagine himself wearing them because he wasn't rich and noble enough for that.

 Then he reached out and plunged his hand into the cloth the old man was holding.

The workshop suddenly disappeared from his eyes, as did the old French fashion designer, and Seokjin completely forgot the real world, immersing himself entirely in the world of the sensitive, enjoying the pleasant tickling sensation that passed through him. 

This feeling started to slide along his fingers, then traveled his hand before slowly rising along his arm and stationing in his chest, whose heart began to race and his breathing to become faster. So that was what it felt like to let yourself be absorbed in the contemplation of art with your heart?

"Did you feel anything?" Taehyung whispered deferentially, as if he had endless admiration for the clothes and their designers and was amazed that Seokjin was able to see what he himself was seeing.

Seokjin suddenly opened his eyes as he felt Taehyung's warm breath tickle his ear and heard his voice as he had been away from reality for several minutes. The sensations suddenly ceased: he was back on earth, in Taehyung's room.