Chapter 2 - The lotto

"Get up, you sicko~" his friend's harsh shout woke him up. "get up get up!!"

Kui Lang snapped up, gazing around the room vigilantly. but his small home was empty.

only the shattered screen of his phone was blinking.

He is groaned loudly. That bastard Woo Tan had changed his alarm ringtone again without asking him. 'I'm going to kill him...' he opened his eyes with difficulty. His head was pounding and his whole body felt like it was hit by a bus.

blinking his blurry eyes Kui pulled his phone close to his face.

It was eight am.

Grunting, he jumped back down on the bed.

Something hard poked his stomach.

'What the fuck..." he pulled it out to see a brown wooden pencil box. "Whose is this?" he clearly did not remember what happened last night. The last he could remember was dancing crazily on the dance floor and chugging wine, tequila, and soju at the same time.

Just trying to remember it made his head pound painfully.

"emmm…" he leaned his head down and hugged his soft pillow. A soft smell of paint was persistent,

"Why is it tomorrow? I don't want to go to work..."

But he knew he had to. since he was not able to draw anything he was keeping himself sustained by doing a few part-time jobs.

Grunting Kui lifted his head again. an enlarged ugly face was right in front of his face. "What the fuck..." an ugly painting was propped up on the pillow.

"Where did this come from…"

He reached out and gently touched the painting, seeing if it was real or if he was hallucinating.

The painting was still wet indicating that it was painted very recently. It was a simple color block painting with his face painted abstractly and in his hand was a bunch of cash. Right behind him was a lottery ball with colorful numbered balls. And by it was a number that he had childishly painted on.

"God, my brush strokes have degraded to such a level…" he took the painting off his bed and tossed it under.

his apartment was so mall and the kitchen was just a table. he had a small induction stove and a coffee mug with a broken ceramic plate. Nothing else.

Kui toasted a piece of bread on the induction stove and when it was being toasted, he sniffed his clothes.

His clothes reeked of alcohol so he swiftly changed into a new pair of shirt and pants. He pushed a lot of plastic covers off the counter and found the old jam bottle. It was clean.

Squeaky clean.

Kui Lang sighed. "Bread it is." He simply ate the toasted bread as is.

"House keys..., where are they?" they were not in the place where he usually left them.

"Where the heck is it?" he searched around for a long time but was not able to spot it.

he searched for the last place he expected to find it. His old pants.

To his surprise, he found his house keys along with a crumbled-up paper. He tossed it both in his pockets and rushed out of the house.

The bakery he worked in was an hour away. he had to take a bus and two trains to get there.

he was already late as is.

he hurriedly shoved his feet I'm his shoes and ran out of there.

"you're late," was the first thing his boss whispered as he ran in. she gazed at him up and down. "You look half dead,"

"Sorry I got drunk last night..." he apologetically smiled at her.

the middle-aged lady sighed and waved her hand. "Get changed. The macaroons are ready to go into the oven,"

nodding Kui Lang wore his apron hair net and gloves and went to handle the tasty treat.

thankfully his boss was kind enough to let him off for the day.

it was the weekend and the bakery was quite busy. they were not able to take a break until the evening when the crowd thinned.

sighing he sat down on the kitchen floor pulling his hair cap off. the bakery owner sat down next to him.

she handed a s bag of French cookies. "How are you feeling,"

"I'm good," he gave her a small smile. "I've moved on..."

the kind lady patted his shoulders. "I'm glad. my cousin's son is just returning from Germany. I bet he would love a cute guy like you,"

"Oh no thank you, I don't want to date anyone for a while," Kui chewed the small cookie with a small moan. "This is going you be a hit. you're amazing,"

"I know," the middle-aged lady smiled brightly. "Are you sure you don't want to meet him?"

"Nope.... don't want to,"

Kui Lang got up patting his back. "I'm going to draw again.... someone said I must create a manifesting board. I want if help get out of my art block,"

he went back home as soon as he could. he popped all the paint and necessities and sat in front of the canvas.

he dipped his brush in red paint and swiped off the excess.

with his hand raised he waited and waited for art inspiration to come to him.

nothing

he felt nothing

Sighing he slumped down. "I don't even have the inspiration to draw an inspiration board.... it's going to take a while..."

Kui Lang sat there without moving. not even a blotch of paint stained the canvas.

he plopped down on the sofa and switched on the tv. the old TV in his room flickered for a long time.

"This is a piece of trashh…" he patted the TV and soon the screen cleared out.

"that's how it's done,"

he plopped back on the sofa and changed the channel. but his darn remote took this time to stop working.

grunting, he patted it on his lap but it just decided to rebel.

sighing he just watched the boring news Channel. thankfully the news report ended and a small laott3ry draw was on.

Kui blandly gazed at the colorful balls. somehow, they looked quite similar. it's like something had seen it before.

as an artist, he had never forgotten something he had seen.

"Where did I see this...." he closed his eyes. "Ah!"

He jumped off and ran to his bed. and right under it was a small canvas.

"Oh my god...." he gazed at the lottery balls and the lottery number he had drawn on when he was piss drunk.

his eyes focused on the tv and then at the painting. "it's the same... "

The tv programmer picked out the lottery number from the balls. little by little the numbers on it started to match the drawing.

("the lottery winner is 56785. congratulations!!! winners, please collect the winning price of 10 million by our office,')

Kui Lang sadly sighed. If he had bought a lottery ticket with that number, he would have definitely won.

sadly, the painting was useless.

he tossed it back into the trash pile and plopped on the bed.

"ah!"

something hard poked his butt.

Kui Lang jumped up and pulled the hard thing off. it was his house keys that he had forgotten in his pocket.

along with it a crumbled-up paper also fell out.

he curiously opened it up.

Kui Lang jumped up in surprise. "What the fuck!!! oh my god!!! oh my god!!!!"

it was the winning lottery ticket.

"When did I even buy this?" Kui curiously looked at it.

along with the lottery ticket there was a thrift store bill.

"shit, I actually bought the winning lottery ticket piss drunk....god..." he gazed up at the sky. "Are you helping me from above."

all his life he had been nothing but unlucky. when it comes to relationships or when it comes to art., he was unlucky.

but he had a feeling it changed tonight.

smiling he hugged the ticket close and slept.

Kui Lang pulled down his cap and pulled at his coat nervously. the lottery collection station was quite close to the railway line.

the receptionist gazed at him curiously. "Hello, how may I help you, sir?"

"I.... I would like to collect my lottery price."

the receptionist's shocked eyes fell on him. "Oh my god...."

Kui Lang lowered his head. "I want to collect it without mentioning my name." he gazed up at her with a small smile. "I believe you understand."

"I do...." The receptionist nodded with a slight blush on her face.

the withdrawal of the lottery amount was done in secret. from the 2 million dollars, he had to pay sixty percent tax.

even after that, he was left with a lot of money.

Kui Lang came in secretly and left the room in secret. no one knew who the winner was and where he lived.

Kui Lang felt his whole demure change after winning. he started to get a bit of confidence.

he sat in front of the canvas.

still nothing.

he gazed at the paintbrush with a small sigh. his fingertip grazed against the engravings on it. a small fish was sculpted so beautifully. even the scales felt so lifelike.

Kui Lang dipped his brush in blue and soon the canvas started to fill up with beautiful colors.

he drew the beautiful beach he had dreamed so many times since a young age.

a crystal-like beach and a beautiful blue ocean soon came into existence on the canvas.

but the painting felt bland.

there was nothing fascinating about it.

Kui Lang peered at the brush's carvings. the fish just stood out to him.

slowly he drew the beautiful green tail and flippers.

his fingers started to cramp.

for a painter, his fingers are their tool. he did not wish to spoil it.

"that's it for the day," Kui Lang cleaned up his brush.

he fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.

but what he did not realize was that the beautiful tail on the canvas started to glimmer. the flipper moved.

But soon the painting turned into a lifeless creation.

****

Kui Lang felt something wet caressing his cheeks leaving behind a subtle wetness.

He slowly opened his eyes to see a pair of blue eyes close to his face. the man moved back slightly to reveal a handsome face. the man had sturdy jaws and a straight nose. his tender lips opened in shock.

But what caught him was that shimmery tear that slid down his cheeks

"Kui… Kui…." the man reached out and touched his face with his wet hand.

Kui Lang did not know why but he could not move. He could not breathe. It was like something was pressing on him from above. Blinking, he peered at the beautiful man.

"Kui…" the man repeated the same and slowly he moved close.

Little by little his waist inched out of the water to reveal a beautiful green tail.

Eyes wide open, Kui gazed at him. "You're a mermaid…"

The man confusedly tilted his head. "Kui… don't you remember?"

"You have a tail…" he pointed to his waist.

"Kui… it's me…" The merman said something but Kui couldn't hear it.

He could only see his moving mouth through his blurry eyes.

The next second he woke up to see the blank ceiling. Reaching out, he touched his own cheeks. 'That felt too real.'