Boys Love Mafia x Artist

Rain fell in quiet sheets as Joong stepped out of the black car. The city pulsed around him—neon signs flickered, horns blared in the distance, but his world was silent. Focused. A quick meeting with a supplier. In and out.

But something stopped him.

A light was on in a narrow studio wedged between a tattoo parlor and a shuttered café. The window was streaked with rain, but the painting inside caught his eye—bright, wild brushstrokes framing a face that felt oddly… familiar.

Joong pushed the door open. A small bell rang.

Inside, the scent of paint and espresso filled the warm air. A young man stood by a canvas, paint on his hands, music in his ears. He didn’t notice Joong at first—until Joong spoke.

“You’re open?”

The artist pulled off his headphones, startled. “Uh… not really. But, hey, you’re already in. So…”

Joong stepped closer, taking in the chaos of color. “That painting in the window. Did you paint it?”

“Yeah.” The artist wiped his hands on his shirt. “It’s just a study. For someone I haven’t met yet, I guess.”

Joong tilted his head. “He looks like someone who hides everything but his eyes.”

The artist smiled faintly. “Yeah. You kind of do too.”

Their eyes locked for a beat too long.

“I’m Dunk,” the artist said, offering a slightly stained hand.

Joong hesitated. Then took it.

“Joong.”

“Nice suit,” Dunk added, half teasing. “You don’t look like the art type.”

Joong allowed a small smile. “You don’t look like someone who paints faces he hasn’t met.”

Dunk shrugged. “Maybe I’m just guessing at people.”

Joong looked at the canvas again. Then back at Dunk.

“Maybe you’re closer than you think.”