I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 62: Banquet Hall (1)

A day had passed since I helped my sister with her homework.

“Ugh.”

I stretched with a satisfying yawn, feeling the stiffness melt away.

Lying down, I glanced at my phone screen.

[11:32]

‘Hmm. Still plenty of time.’

There were quite a few hours left before my scheduled appointment. About an hour and a half until Ms. Lee A-reum arrived. What to do until then?

“Maybe I should get ready in advance.”

Since I had nothing else to do, I considered heading to my studio early.

Once I decided, I didn’t hesitate. That’s the kind of guy Lee Ha-eun was—action right after thought.

I lifted myself off the bed, opened the door, and stepped out.

The living room was empty, as expected, but I paid it no mind.

After all, today was a day when my family went out without me.

‘The way I put it sounds kind of weird.’

Correction: Mom and Ha-yoon went to visit Dad at his work site.

Why did the two of them go to where Dad was working?

I had no idea. Something about a banquet hall or something similar.

I figured I’d hear the full details at dinner.

Apparently, the banquet was hosted by S Group, and Dad was attending on behalf of his company. They even invited our family along for the ride.

‘Now that I think about it, it’s not really a work trip, is it? So, Dad’s on vacation too, huh.’

A tiny bit of unfilial resentment bubbled up, but it disappeared quickly.

And as for why I didn’t join them… Well, I already had plans.

‘Still, I can’t shake this weird sense of unease.’

Not the kind of worry where you’re concerned for your family’s safety.

‘It’s more like… I feel like I’ll end up at that banquet hall somehow.’

Yeah, that was the feeling—this nagging premonition.

The kind of feeling that always turned out to be right. Maybe I should just turn my phone off for the day.

Sighing heavily, I got ready to head out. When I reached the studio, I’d probably need to organize my tools first.

“So, what now?”

“Well… sorry. Haha.”

There was no room left for excuses. Prepare to face your doom.

In front of me, Ms. Lee A-reum scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

“What time is it right now?”
“2:40…”
“And what time was our meeting?”
“1 o’clock…”

The way she winced every time she opened her mouth was so funny, I couldn’t help but grin.

“Please try to be more mindful next time.”
“Ugh, come on! It’s not like I wanted to miss the bus!”
“Usually, that is the person’s fault, though.”

What kind of logic is this woman working with?

It’s like she had an ironclad mask of shamelessness on her face.

The funny part? She genuinely seemed to believe she wasn’t at fault.

“You could’ve prepared with more time to spare.”
“What was I supposed to do? I overslept…”

This conversation was going in circles.

‘Can we just get to work now?’

As if reading my thoughts, Ms. Lee A-reum’s face reddened slightly before she cleared her throat.

“Ahem. So, uh, we need to decide on a theme first, right?”
“That’s up to you, ma’am. I’m just here to support.”
“Hmm. Then how about… nature?”
“Not my strong suit, honestly.”
“How does someone who painted Vanishing Snow and won say that?”

Her sharp retort left me momentarily speechless. She wasn’t wrong—after all, I had painted Vanishing Snow, a snowy mountain landscape.

Still, I wasn’t feeling nature this time. Maybe it was because of Vanishing Snow. This time, I wanted to try something different.

Something fresh and sophisticated. Something that would make people go, “Oh wow!”

‘Hmm, what could that be?’

‘…What about that?’

An idea suddenly came to mind, and I quickly jotted it down on the canvas.

“Ma’am, what do you think of this?”

Lee A-reum squinted at the hastily scribbled word on the canvas.

“Sunflowers? You mean Van Gogh’s sunflowers? We can’t do that—it’s copyrighted.”
“You won’t know unless you try. And it doesn’t have to be an imitation of Van Gogh’s.”
“Wait, you’re not thinking of… a still life, are you?”

Her astonished expression made me shrug casually.

‘It doesn’t matter how you get there as long as you end up in Seoul, right?’

There was no fixed path; all roads lead to the same destination—winning the next prize.

Or creating a painting that could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Vanishing Snow.

Honestly, succeeding with one would naturally lead to success with the others.

So the goal itself didn’t matter much.

“I only used sunflowers as an example. It doesn’t have to be sunflowers. A vase doesn’t only hold sunflowers, does it?”

As I continued explaining, Ms. Lee A-reum’s expression grew more complicated.

“But wouldn’t that feel too much like a copy?”
“See? You’re too rigid in your thinking.”
“?”

For a teacher, she was surprisingly lacking in creativity. Tsk tsk.

“Does it have to be a vase? It could be a wooden barrel or anything else, right?”
“Then why did you use sunflowers as your example? You could’ve just said ‘still life.’”

Her exasperation was written all over her face. Guess I shouldn’t push it any further.

Sighing, Ms. Lee A-reum grabbed a chair and sat down beside me.

My hand moved across the canvas as I continued my explanation.

“Let’s start with the big picture. Still lifes aren’t popular these days. Why do you think that is?”
“Because they depict static objects. They’re not creative or exciting.”
“Exactly. Still lifes are boring. Bland and something anyone can draw.”

Still lifes emerged around the time the Renaissance was declining, particularly in Northern Europe.

It’s an old genre now—simple and straightforward but lacking in appeal for modern audiences.

Among the few surviving still lifes, one of the most famous examples is…

“Van Gogh’s sunflower series.”
“So, what does that have to do with this situation?”
“Ah, such a quintessential Korean response. So impatient—wait, don’t raise your fist!”

Why was she acting like she was about to punch me? Really Anyway, to continue:

Who would recognize or appreciate a still life from centuries ago today?

That’s why you have to spice it up, sprinkle some seasoning on it, right?

Still lifes need to be packed with MSG to capture attention.

Cabbage, for instance, tastes like nothing if eaten plain. But when seasoned and transformed into kimchi, people flock to it.

Lee A-reum’s face twisted into an odd expression, clearly processing my words.

“…So, you’re painting kimchi?”
“Let’s not talk. Clearly, our thought processes are too different.”

She flicked me lightly on the head, though it didn’t hurt.

The still life brainstorming session proceeded smoothly after that.

“Alright, we’ve settled on the genre, so now we need to decide on a theme. Let’s aim for something unusual, not the typical stuff.”
“Hmm. Sorry, I’ve got nothing.”

What kind of teacher is this?

“Wasn’t this your idea in the first place? Come up with something.”
“I’m drawing a blank. What do you want me to do?”

Ah, classic Koreans—always starting sentences with “No” before anything else.

Ignoring her exasperated face, I sank into deep thought.

“Oh! Why don’t we ask someone? There’s even a department head whose name screams ‘ideas.’”
“Who—wait, don’t tell me, Seol Yoon?”
“Exactly. You’re quick on the uptake. I wonder if Manager Seol is busy right now.”

To my surprise, Manager Seol Yoon picked up almost immediately.

[Hello~? Mmph, ah, sorry.]

What is it with people in their mid-20s? It’s like they’re aging backward. Why are they all missing a screw?

“Yes, this is Lee Ha-eun. Is now a good time to talk?”
[Oomph! Ack! Cough…]

There were sounds of someone choking and drinking at the same time.

[Phew… sorry! I didn’t know it was you, Ha-eun! I thought it was our bald department head.]

That’s even worse, isn’t it?

“…May I ask what you’re drinking?”
[Oh, haha. Just eating some Binch cookies…]
“Luxury snacks, huh.”
[…So, what’s this about?]

The smooth way she shifted the topic suggested she was quite experienced.

“Nothing major. I just wanted some suggestions for an art theme. The genre is still life.”
[Ah~ Still life, huh? Leave it to me! I’m the Ideas Department Manager, after all!]

Why did I feel uneasy about this? Was she going to suggest something bizarre?

[How about a fan? You know, like an electric fan? It gives off those cool summer vibes.]
“Rejected. We already have Vanishing Snow. Why bother?”

Vanishing Snow was always available for display. I even had permission from the curator to access it anytime.

[Hmm, okay… then how about something occult-ish, like a coffin?]
“Well, I guess I wouldn’t look out of place in one tomorrow.”
[Oh…]

The peculiar thing was, she was dead serious about her suggestions.

“Alright, one last idea, and then I’ll hang up.”

I didn’t want to waste any more time on this.

[How about this? It’s simple, but you could paint just a single flower.]
“…Surprisingly? Thank you for the suggestion.”
[Sure thing! By the way, what’s your relationship with that senior—]

Click.

“Why do you hang up on people like that?”
“…Let’s just start with the outline.”

Senior or junior, they were both masters at changing the subject.

“Alright, fine. Let’s use Manager Seol’s suggestion as a starting point.”

Painting a single flower… honestly, who would even look at something like that?

Humans are the type to trample over dandelions on the street without a second thought.

It’s unlikely anyone would notice, and even if I dressed it up, its popularity was questionable.

A ‘normal’ person would definitely think so.

‘But surprisingly? I think it’s worth trying.’

If I was the one choosing this theme, the story would naturally change.

“Let’s start sketching, Ms. Lee A-reum.”
“That kind of excited me for a second.”
“I really don’t know what to say to you.”

This moment felt like the beginning of a new chapter in history.

“Alright, I’ll be heading out now.”
“Sure. Try not to be late tomorrow.”
“I told you, that was an accident!”

Ms. Lee A-reum waved as she walked off.

As I made my way home, my phone buzzed.

Zzzzzzt.

‘Weird. No one really contacts me.’

My contact list barely had 30 names, a pitifully small number.

Still, this wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

[Uncle Hong Jin-hu: Why don’t you come too? (photo.jpg)]

The message was accompanied by a picture of my family with him.

Normally, I’d just ignore something like this, but…

‘Wait, that’s my painting.’

Why was one of my masterpieces in that photo? That didn’t make sense. It should have been under state management.

It seemed I now had a reason to visit the banquet hall.