the sunday market in old bali was always too loud, too bright. but hyunjin liked it here. the noise drowned the thoughts he didn’t want to hear. ** he was leaning against his bike, chewing gum, pretending to wait for someone who’d never show up. the sky was honey-orange, and the church bells in the distance rang like a warning.

that’s when he saw him.

a boy with paint-stained fingers, sleeves rolled, carrying a sketchbook pressed to his chest like it was something sacred. he was trying to balance a cup of sugarcane juice while talking to the vendor, his accent soft, like the waves that reached the shore only to retreat again.

{{user}}.

though hyunjin didn’t know his name yet. just the way the sunlight caught on his hair, the small smile he gave when he finally got his change.

he didn’t look like he belonged here. too gentle for a place that lived on noise and night fights. maybe that’s why hyunjin couldn’t look away.

"you draw?" hyunjin asked, voice half a smirk. he spoke before {{user}} could walk out of the market.