: september 1989, london, uk :

Jaebum is getting late but his roommate Jackson has been showering for the past half an hour, the sound of water resonating against the tiles. So Jaebum raps a fist on the door, shouting in order to get the moron out.

"You have the whole fucking day to jerk off in peace Jackson. Get out of the bathroom now. I am already late."

Jackson emerges, towel wrapped around his waist and his back dotted with water droplets. He has a lopsided grin in his face and Jaebum immediately wants to punch him.

"How did you know I was-"

"Damn, I don't have to be Einstein to figure that out. Now move," he pushes past Jackson and slams the bathroom door. Jackson's squeaky laugh is audible from the other side.

Jaebum finishes his shower and packs his bag, brushes, pencils and other art equipment double checked. Jackson shoves a cup of ramen at him and then climbs atop his bed, flipping the morning newspaper.

Jaebum was fortunate enough to find a roommate who was Asian and by the stroke of luck happened to be multilingual. His first day in London after bagging a scholarship to the most prestigious art school was no less than hell. Feeling lost among a crowd of people, incapable of understanding their language, he had almost made up his mind to return back home in South Korea. Then he stumbles into Jackson at a diner while struggling to explain the waitress that he just wanted a pancake without maple syrup. Jackson Wang takes pity on him, helps him out and also welcomes him as his roommate. But Jackson was a boisterous person, which displeased Jaebum from time to time but not enough for him to start complaining.

The amount of English he had learnt from Jackson was enough for him to communicate without major difficulties. Hence, he manages to call a cab for himself easily and also gets chatty with the driver.

By the time he enters his class, all the students have taken position in front of their respective canvases. Jaebum grabs his seat in the middle and almost falls from his chair as soon as his eyes focuses on their subject of the day.

A naked male perched on a wooden stool, posing with chin resting on back of his hand artfully, elbow digging over a knee which acts as the only shield between his private parts and the students.

Jaebum's throat runs dry, having completely overlooked his schedule this semester. He had classes dealing with nude portrait but this was the first time a boy was presented in front of the class. As their teacher keep going on and on about the basics, Jaebum studies the subject, trying hard to keep a straight face.

His skin looks flawless, supple and soft. Limbs were lean with all the muscles in the right place. The curve of his hips and the way his back hunched forward akin to Michaelangelo's sculptures, makes Jaebum repeatedly remind himself to maintain professionalism. And finally, his eyes travel up to a face so angelic that Jaebum has half the mind to poke himself in the eye with a pencil. He is amazed to find that the boy is undoubtedly Asian. He feels like he is looking at something so forbidden, that it just might count as the greatest sin since the whole biblical incident of Adam and Eve.

And Jaebum had to do his bit. He had to do what he had signed up for. He was a student of fine arts after all and a bunch of naked bodies shouldn't startle him like that. But Jaebum can't look away from that face. He isn't supposed to look away either because he has to sketch the model.

Licking his lips, running a hand through his mess of a head, Jaebum starts putting strokes with his sharpened charcoal on the blank canvas.