The Mysterious Art Museum

"Ban Jeong-hoon? He's a beggar, a real beggar. I've never seen him carry more than ten thousand won in his wallet. I thought he would spend some money if we broke up. He sent me a text saying he left a last gift at my house, so I thought it might be a designer bag or something. But guess what, he left flowers. Flowers that become trash once they wilt! That just proves he's a beggar through and through."

When I heard those words from Youngju, I dropped the paintbrush I was holding.

Those flowers were bought with two months of my allowance.

A foul smell seemed to come from the beautiful flowers.

The rottenness inside was emanating from the flowers that looked beautiful on the outside.

That day, when my gesture of apology was scorned as a beggar's act, I didn't resent her but rather despaired over myself.

Why was I born into this family?

Why did my father die so early, and why does my brother have a disability that perpetuates our cycle of poverty?

I shut myself in my room for days, and when I finally looked in the mirror, I looked crazy.

A dirty, disgusting, pitiful, and precarious child, tainted by poverty.

But maybe that's fortunate? I've been used to being treated like a beggar.

It was just that it was the first time I heard such words from someone I once loved.

I soon came to my senses.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, took off my clothes, and showered.

Trying to wash off the foul smell clinging to my body.

And I never painted flowers again. Nor showed interest in the opposite sex.

Both flowers and love would wither and disappear the moment they realized the poverty writhing within my essence.

Youngju's cautious voice reached my ears.

"I think I'm a bit drunk, I said something unnecessary. Sorry! Just forget it."

Youngju, making a gesture of pleading with hands clasped together. I chuckled and lightly punched her on the shoulder.

"It's okay, between us, what's there to..."

I took a deep breath and continued.

"I forgot. It's all becoming vague now."

"........................"

"The pain and the wounds too. Everyone in the world suffers, I can't just sulk and be stuck in one place, can I?"

Youngju, judging my expression to be not as bad as she thought, hit my back hard and said.

"That's right! That's the spirit of a true adult!"

She's right.

The pain I suffered? Yes, it was a big deal for me.

But there are many people in the world who would scoff at such pain, people who clutch their dirty, painful memories and continue living. I should just suffer briefly, cry a little, and then get up and continue on my path.

As Youngju and I walked, we soon neared the art gallery.

It was late, so the gallery was probably closed.

But suddenly, I wanted to introduce my best friend to the gallery. Even if we couldn't enter, I at least wanted to tell him the location of this gallery, which had no website or anything. I told him to definitely visit it sometime.

Who knows? Maybe Youngju will start dreaming too.

"Youngju, do you often visit galleries?"

Youngju made a strange face and said.

"I work in a gallery, how could I not go? It's tedious, really tedious."

"Haha, come here sometime. It will be nice, it's closed now, but. This gallery might give you a gift too."

I pointed to the turned-off sign and then checked my watch.

It was already one in the morning.

If I want to catch the 11 a.m. flight tomorrow, I need to finish checking in by 9 a.m. It takes an hour to get to Incheon Airport from my house, so I should leave by 7:30 a.m. It's time to go back.

I held out my hand to Youngju, who was looking in the direction I was pointing.

"I'll be back."

Youngju looked around distractedly before gripping my hand.

"Don't come back early, stay there for a long time."

"I have to come back after work anyway, what can I do."

"Relationships aren't easy, buddy. Stay there longer so our company's profile grows. Don't worry about here, take care. Call often."

"Yeah, I got it."

"Did you pack everything?"

"Yeah."

"How many pairs of underwear did you pack?"

"Ah, why ask such a thing?"

"Did you pack enough?"

"If I run out, I can buy more there. Let's try Italian underwear this time."

"Keke, good idea."

I wanted to spend more time with Youngju, but the late-night bus was about to arrive. Missing it means waiting for more than 30 minutes.

We exchanged final goodbyes and parted ways.

Soon, I will be leaving Korea.

What will happen there?

My heart throbs with excitement turning into anticipation.

**

In the place where Jeong-hoon left.

Youngju, left alone, blankly watched Jeong-hoon's retreating figure as he hurriedly headed to the bus stop. After he completely disappeared from her view, she looked at her hand that had just shaken his.

"He's gone."

Her face revealed the disappointment she had tried to hide.

Youngju stared at her hand for a while, then clenched it into a fist and exhaled sharply through her nose.

"I'll protect the company until the boss returns. Aja, aja! Let's do well, Seo Young-ju!"

With her fist clenched and cheering herself on, Young-ju glanced around in the direction Jeong-hoon had pointed earlier, muttering to herself.

"But what was that about? Where's this art gallery he mentioned? And what's this talk of a gift?"

In front of Young-ju, there was nothing but an abandoned, desolate building, with only a bleak wind blowing eerily between the building and her.

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