COLD RAIN

CHAPTER 13

The word "forget" was easy to say, but it was not easy to do.

Whenever this word was mentioned, Pon thought of himself in the past who was always afraid of being abandoned.

When his mother was gone, when his father ignored him, when he knew he was dying... He was very scared.

But now that he thought about it, he was more afraid of being forgotten than being abandoned.

But he didn't want anyone to be sad for him more than not being forgotten.

When he texted his P'Ping at that time, he had an idea of just leaving quietly, alone.

Although looking back now, that text message was just a futile struggle. They would find out anyway, they would know anyway. But he had already started a new life and he hoped their life wouldn't stop for him either.

He was just a trivial passerby in their lives. His departure might make them sigh and feel melancholy for a while but it should never affect their beautiful lives.

Dr. Kenta said that reasonable discussion and rational analysis could help, but the key was his determination.

So pont energetically put it into action. Starting from his daily life, he tried to integrate it into his new life and overcome the difficulties he had been avoiding.

For example, the inability to move a brush to draw a figure.

After much deliberation, Pon invited his younger brother Benz to be his model.

Because he was relatively free with school just starting, Benz used most of his spare time to cross-stitch a person and had done a great portion of it by the weekend when Pon asked him to be the model.

At first he was very excited, saying that after so many years his brother had finally discovered his beauty.

But after he had sat in the same position for half an afternoon, he couldn't bear it anymore.

He yawned incessantly, his head tilted against the wall for support and he asked repeatedly if it was "ready".

"Not yet, wait a minute."
Pon was slow in drawing, he hadn't finished the outline yet.

However, the more Benz hastened him the more his hand shook. The more he tried to draw a round and smooth arc, the more likely it was that angular lines would appear.

It was a "residual effect" left by someone who painted too much.

At that time, in order to give a perfect work to that man, Pon practiced in the studio all day long. Half of the shelves in the cabinet were filled with discarded drafts, all painted by him.

At that time, Pon's mind was simple. He only remembered that the man asked him for a portrait when they first met.

He wanted to fulfill his promise but he never thought about whose portrait the man wanted him to paint. If the painting that he hid was lucky enough to see the sun, that man would at most smile contemptuously when he saw it and then leave it behind.

His three-year obsession was nothing more than a joke in the eyes of that man.

This time when he really left probably was a relief to that man.

Thinking of what he shouldn't have thought, Pon shook his head, took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the drawing paper in front of him.

The model sitting behind the drawing board was almost asleep, propping his chin on his phone hands and barely facing the artist.

His eyes closing from time to time, he murmured, "I'll give you... one more hour, I, I have to photoshop the pictures."

Pon was afraid that he would really fall asleep and chatted with him while painting, "What pictures are you photoshopping?"