Jealousy’s Torment and the Art Room Lesson
The reason U Hana was suffering even more was her jealousy... Yeah. No other way to put it, so jealousy it is.
Anyway, the target of that jealousy just had to be Lee Seol.
Setting aside Lee Min-woo, Lee Seol herself wasn't the type to open up easily to anyone. She might seem aloof and carefree on the outside, but deep down, she carried wounds she never shared with a soul.
We weren't inseparable since middle school, but we'd shared more heart-to-hearts than with anyone else, so I knew all about it.
The fact that I knew this in my head and still felt this way only deepened my self-loathing.
'Seol must have totally noticed...'
Then U Hana's thoughts veered in a different direction. Maybe it was just her desperate attempt to escape the agony.
Everyone knew anyway... What was there left to hold back?
If things kept going like this, it'd only get more awkward with Lee Min-woo. She was stuck—neither pushing forward nor backing off.
U Hana read the flow perfectly.
And she wasn't one to just wander lost in that ambiguous limbo.
'Want me to show you what real flirting looks like?'
A sharp snort escaped her nostrils.
She hadn't hesitated because she lacked confidence compared to other girls.
It was just that Lee Min-woo was an impenetrable fortress.
But was he really that solid?
...But he's so damn handsome, right?
She had confidence in her own looks, too.
'Ah, screw it... I won't overthink this anymore.'
Overthinking was what got her into this mess.
Maybe for a complicated guy like Lee Min-woo, something straightforward would work better...
Once she thought that way, her mood lifted considerably.
Come to think of it, something about the art club with Lee Seol...
Right as she was about to pry more details from Lee Seol out of curiosity—
Her phone, hidden in the drawer, buzzed.
U Hana stealthily pulled it out.
Her lips, which had curled up briefly, dropped right back down.
And her eyes turned ice-cold.
If I said I'd secretly planned to meet Lee Seol after school... it might sound a bit off. But it was the truth.
Of course, there was nothing shady about it. Neither of us had any weird ulterior motives—we both knew that perfectly well.
It was purely to get some help.
Once the end-of-day bell rang and students poured out like the tide, the school emptied out fast.
I met her in that quiet hallway.
From the moment we linked up, her eyes were still narrowed with curiosity.
"I'm really curious. So curious..."
No wonder—she'd been caught off guard when I suddenly asked to check out the art club.
Even so, her expression was blatant. Like, I'm dying to know here—gonna keep me hanging?
Of course, that probably wasn't her real intent. She just couldn't hold back—that was her personality.
That's how I knew her, too. Not from tons of direct chats, just from a few lines here and there.
Anyway, I pretended not to notice and followed her lead.
Luckily, she didn't press further. She was obviously trying hard to hold it in... probably because she saw it as repaying the favor I'd done her.
"You said it'd take a while, right?"
She stopped in front of the art club storeroom.
The art club had a storeroom and a studio; she said she'd show me the storeroom first.
The moment I stepped in, paint fumes, wood scents, and more hit me. Hmm, better commit these smells to memory.
"Not so much a while... but could I come often?"
"You wanna tour a few more times?"
"Yeah."
She flicked on the storeroom lights and stepped aside, like, go nuts.
"I even got the key from the club president sis for this. ...Not trying to brag or anything."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
"...I'm not bragging."
"I know."
I mimicked her words right back, and she shot me a grumpy side-eye.
I scanned the storeroom behind her.
It was about the same size as the soccer club room I'd seen before, but way more organized.
She explained it was more for storing tools, quick meetings, or chilling than actual work. Fittingly, one wall had storage cabinets, plus a table and chairs—simple stuff.
"So, what'd you wanna ask?"
"What do art club kids do first when they come here?"
"This is mostly for storage..."
"So you don't hang out here long?"
"Nah. Actual work's in the studio. This is like prep."
Lee Seol answered every question diligently.
I took in the storeroom with my eyes, touched a few things, carefully peeked into others, killing time like that. Then we headed to the studio.
Around then, she seemed to catch on.
"You doing some kinda shoot? Acting?"
"Yeah."
I admitted it. No point hiding now that we'd come this far.
I couldn't spill in class with others around, but this was different. Better if she knew the goal—more precise help that way.
"Whoa... for real?"
"Don't tell the others."
"Got it. I can already picture the freakout. But can I ask what role?"
"Art student."
Short answer, and she eyed me up and down for a sec.
...Go ahead, stare all you want.
Now that I'd actually seen the storeroom and studio, I had more favors to ask. Knowing a space from descriptions versus moving in it yourself? Totally different.
"Can you teach me more details?"
"Like what?"
She perked up, genuinely interested now.
I knew her parents were actors. And that she kinda hated the job. But another kid our age acting? Guess that piqued her.
I mulled over Lee Seol stuff, then answered without overthinking.
"I wanna... try painting."
"..."
She stared, then burst out laughing—pfft-ha!
"...Why're you laughing?"
"Dunno. You just looked kinda funny. You can paint by yourself anywhere."
...Even I had to admit, that sounded pretty dumb.
She reined in her giggles and pondered before speaking.
"But I get it. You wanna look all atmospheric at the easel, right?"
"Yeah. Then why laugh if you get it?"
"Can't I laugh if I feel like it?"
"...You're getting all serious now, leaves me nothing to say."
"I just laughed 'cause it was funny."
She playfully smacked my shoulder.
"Just say I did it... Anyway, sit anywhere."
Good, she was game. Even a little here would let me practice at home later.
I'd buy supplies... That's what part-time cash was for. No issue.
In my script, Kim Yul has a solo painting scene in the art club. Right from episode 1—his intro.
I knew my immersion talent was godsend for an aspiring actor, but it wasn't everything. Caution would push me further.
Not brainwashed by my skeptical past-life prof on method acting. Just his drive to learn more.
Anyway, the studio was a regular classroom minus the desks. Instead: easels, small round stools, plaster busts lined up on one side.
Smelled different from the storeroom. Oil paints?
I sat at one easel—the only one with a canvas.
Lee Seol sidled up close. Thought she was about to teach, but—snicker.
"You gonna paint with your bare hands, sir?"
"...Oh. Shoulda grabbed tools from the storeroom."
I started to stand, but she dangled a pouch-sized bag in my face.
When'd she grab that?
"Knew you'd need it. How's my foresight?"
"Impressive."
"Heh."
Satisfied, she handed it over.
"Open it yourself."
I pulled out a pencil.
But facing the blank canvas... could I really draw?
Maybe just practice posture first.
"Go ahead and draw."
"For real?"
"I said say I did it. Tsk... You're such a worrier."
"You... you're treating me like an idiot just 'cause we're somewhere alone."
"From what I've seen so far? Kinda are."
She definitely seemed hyped. Probably 'cause I was showing such a noob side.
Couldn't help it—I was clueless on art, zero knowledge.
...Wait, wasn't that a problem in itself?
Filming was a month away.
They wouldn't shoot my awkward moves raw, sure—they'd adjust.
But I couldn't bank on that alone. Attitude, like I said.
I seriously pondered Kim Yul.
He was confident in portraits especially.
One line: subjects look more honest on canvas than in real life.
His backstory: only child of working parents—stepmom and dad, really.
Money no issue, but emotionally starved.
Bio mom died of illness at nine; new stepmom and dad never showed affection.
He'd been quiet since kid days, lots of solo people-watching.
Started mingling post-puberty, when his features sharpened. Never learned to give emotions from parents—instead, soaked up one-way from friends.
Of course he'd suck at it. In the drama, it masquerades as mystery at first.
That's why looks mattered... Writer mentioned in our call.
His social spark had parallels to mine. Best way to grasp a character: link from my overlaps, expand out.
Doesn't immersion handle that? Sure, in practice. But camera time? Unpredictable.
If emotions blank out live, blame no one.
This rational approach was my past-life go-to.
For him, painting... escape? Or way to understand people?
"...Why so serious all of a sudden?"
"...Practice. Gotta focus when you're teaching."
"..."
Thankfully, she dropped the teasing.
"Don't grip it like that..."
She stepped closer, adjusting my posture.