chapter 12.1

“If we talk now, it seems that we will only hurt each other’s feelings.”

Yeonhwa, who was sitting at the end of the bed, regretted what she said. When she saw Geonwoo raise his voice with a serious face at her for the first time, her heart broke.

“What did I do wrong?” She wondered.

With the rushing sorrow, Yeonhwa stopped talking. She angrily closed the passenger door and left. Yeonhwa groaned and wrapped her hands around her head.

“I should have finished talking about the problem with him.”

After what happened, it was difficult to continue the conversation again. It was her first time fighting with Geonwoo, so Yeohwa couldn’t decide how to finish the situation well. She thought she needed to deal with the feelings that were intensified, so she avoided the conversation, but now she knew that wasn’t the best way. Geonwoo did raise his voice, but now she thought about it, he wasn’t shouting. Geon-woo, whose voice tone was usually low, spit out his words and made her angry. She was contemplating how to end this fight, but the doorknob of the room turned. Her body acted faster than she thought. Yeonhwa immediately rolled under the blanket.

“Oh, this isn’t it.”

It was so awkward to face Geonwoo, so Yeonhwa kept lying down on the bed with the blanket covering her from head to toes. It wasn’t visible to Geonwoo, but Yeonhwa’s expression changed in various ways. The air in the room was so suffocating to the point where her heart seemed to stop beating. Geonwoo turned off the lights and left the room without coming to bed. After Geonwoo’s footsteps moved away, Yeonhwa opened her eyes. She just stared at the ceiling and waited for Geonwoo. However, Geonwoo did not return to the room until after midnight.

********

Ever since Go Joon met Yeonhwa at the hospital, Yeonhwa’s image has continued to linger in his head. It could have just a mere likeness, but the feeling of deception was not easily erased. Until the moment he sat down in the studio the day after the accident, Go Joon recalled her. The moment he lifted his brush in front of the white canvas, he realized who Yeanhwa was.

“I think that’s right.”

Go Joon put down the brush he was holding and lifted the tip of his lips. The moment he saw Yeonhwa in the emergency room yesterday, he knew that it wasn’t the first time he saw her. He met her 9 years ago in France. She was an unforgettable girl. She was the one who kept him drawing until now.

In a narrow alleyway in Place du Tertre, Go Joon crouched down with two canvas in front of him. He wondered who would buy a picture without a frame, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it in the trash can either. Go Joon sadly rubbed his red eyes as not to cry. His father’s shout was still heard in his ears.

“I told you not to paint!”

His father was an old unknown painter. Because of his father’s unsuccessful business, his mother demanded a divorce. And Go Joon was left with his father, and they moved to France. The reason his father’s paintings didn’t have value is because the country called Korea didn’t have a big art industry to hold it. His father, who was proud that he could concentrate on his artwork when he came to France, faced a bitter reality after five years. His father had to work at the bakery, it was always bread and milk. Of course, because there wasn’t enough food to eat, Go Joon wasn’t physically developed like his peers, and he was bullied at school for his small Asian size. Unable to overcome the harassment, Go Joon chose to drop out, hid inside the house and started painting. Instead of taking care of Go Joon, his father drank alcohol every day and threw things around the house. That unstable life was hard getting used to no matter what he tried.

“We are poor and starving, and you have the luxury to paint?”

On one drunken day, his father broke and tore the painting Go Joon had drawn for the first time. Later, he brought a bucket of water and poured it over the canvas.

“This mindless boy! You should study and think of ways to help your father! Who even looks at your childish picture!”

“Twenty or more canvases were destroyed, and only two were remained unharmed. Go Joon held two canvases and bravely came out to the square. He was thinking of selling the painting and then dying. There was no reason to live. If he returned home, his father, who had no guilt at all, would be there. If he had to live like that any longer, he would rather die and hope to meet good parents in the next life. But who would look at the paintings of a young boy who is less than 20 years old? People only passed by with a light glance. People laughed and chatted happily in the plaza, where bright sunlight poured in.

When was it, the last time that he laughed. Had he laughed recently? No matter how much Go Joon searched for, he couldn’t remember when he laughed last. Did he know how to laugh? He couldn’t remember that either. Was it great just to be alive so far? He wondered what it would feel like if he had more things in life, instead of a tiny room and barely filled his stomach every day.

“Is this painting for sale?”

The voice of a young woman caught Go Jon’s mind belatedly. Go Joon looked at her with a blank face. A happy girl with white skin and smiled brightly. His gaze kept on looking at the girl who had the opposite image to himself. Looking at her, Go Joon felt as if the sunlight that had not been merciful to him until now poured over his head. Yeonhwa was staring at the canvas placed in front of Go Joon. On one canvas, a city dyed red by a large sun, and the opposite city dyed blue by a full moon on the other. The girl folded her knees and sat in front of Go Joon because she wanted to see the paintings in more detail. Yeonhwa indulged in fascinatingly vibrant colors and was captivated by the canvas. After sitting in front of him for a while, Yeonhwa looked at the man. But even when she opened her eyes widely, she couldn’t see his eyes because of his long bangs.

“I would like to buy one painting. You are selling it, right?”

Yeonhwa asked a question in English because she didn’t know French. Go Joon nodded slowly when Yeonhwa said she would buy a painting.

“How much is it?”

Go Joon thought about selling it, but he didn’t decide how much to sell. He was going to die after selling his paintings, so what is the importance of money anyway.

“10 euros.”

That was just a little over 10,000 won in Korean money, Yeonhwa swallowed her breath. The Korean language came out as she was surprised at the small cost. Go Joon realized that she was Korean too.

“Are you from Korea?”

“Yeah. Are you also Korean?”

Go Joon poured out a series of questions in a good mood.

“Where are you from Korea? How old are you?”

“I am from Seoul. I’m 18 years old.”

“You are one year younger than me.”

After coming to France, except for his father, this was the first time he had conversations with a Korean person. Yeonhwa asked with a face full of curiosity.

“But why do you sell it for only 10 euros?”

In front of someone he saw for the first time today, the sentence ‘I don’t need money because I’m going to die’ didn’t come out.

“Just because it is not a well-drawn painting.”

“You painted well !”

Yeonhwa replied with a confident face.

“When I saw your painting, my heart was pounding like looking at the artworks in the museum. That means this is a fantastic painting.”

Go Joon burst into laughter while looking at Yeonhwa’s face, who was explaining enthusiastically. He felt unfamiliar with the sound of his laughter coming out of his mouth. After laughing heartily, his head became clear, and his mood felt lighter.

“Thank you for telling me that.”

“I am not joking.”

Yeonhwa, who muttered, dragged her purse to her knees. Then she took out a 500 euro bill from inside the wallet and handed it over. Go Joon widened his eyes at an amount of over 500,000 won in Korean money.

“Are you giving this to me?”

“I am paying for the painting.”

Yeonhwa pushed 500 euros into Go Joon’s hand.

“To me, this painting is worth 500 euros.”

Who would pay 500 euros for a painting of a boy who was selling on the street? He was even not a rookie who debuted in the art world? Even though Go Joon pushed back his hand and refused to take the bill. Yeonhwa only shook her head.

“It’s silly to sell this painting for only 10 euros.”

“I still cannot accept 500 euros.”

“Please accept it. You can’t sell it for only 10 euros. Will you keep painting?”

“…….”

“My dream is to become a curator. I will surely make my dream come true and let many people know about your painting. There are people who paint such wonderful pictures. So keep going. You have to become a painter ok?”

As Go Joon was debating what to say to Yeonhwa, she stood up from her seat, smiling brightly like the sun.

“Well, what to choose.”

Yeonhwa, who was contemplating one of the two paintings, finally decided to take a canvas painted with the red sun. Yeonhwa read the initials written in white paint on the end of the canvas.

“GJ?”

“That is my name. Go Joon.”