Chapter 149 (1) - The Mysterious Art Museum |
It's delightful.
Is it the joy of being with people, or is it specifically being with Youngju that's enjoyable?
Last night, we shared a meal of wild rockfish sashimi under the moonlight, drinking late into the night before retiring to our rooms at dawn. The next day, around noon, we walked along the beaches surrounding the island.
Youngju tightly held onto her hat to prevent it from being blown away by the sea breeze, strolling and spinning around on the white sandy beach.
“This place is really great! It’s on a different level compared to inland beaches!”
I couldn't help but laugh seeing my friend's beaming smile.
“Oh, this is the Black Dark Beach, just a small stretch of white sand about a hundred meters long, but it’s incredibly beautiful because it’s a gorge. You can’t see it now because of the high tide, but at low tide, a cave appears over there. The inside of the cave is all red.”
“Really? Where?”
“There.”
‘Youngju, too, hasn’t had a vacation once while helping me build my company.’
My friend, who worked to death for years under an incompetent boss.
Being busy with my own work, I never paid attention to how she was living, blindly expecting her to understand. Though it was with Youngju’s permission, I now feel incredibly sorry.
Arriving at the Coral Beach, Youngju and I sat on a towel, touching the popcorn-shaped rocks in wonder, and I brought up a topic from my heart.
“Youngju.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Just everything. And thank you.”
Youngju hesitated for a moment, looking like she was about to swear, then suddenly laughed.
“Hehe.”
I laughed too.
“Haha.”
We laughed for a long while.
After visiting the lighthouse and the So-moo-ri Summit, we walked the Olle trail to the Haenyeo (female divers) village.
I acted as if I had been here several times before.
“The stone octopus here is good.”
It tasted like gum chewed for three days and spit out. The reason I couldn’t taste it, even though everyone else said it was delicious, was probably because of my mood at the time.
Youngju and I bought the stone octopus and stopped by a local mart to buy more alcohol, having finished all we had the day before.
Tomorrow, Youngju will return to Seoul, and I’ll be left alone again. I hope we spend our last night well.
As the sun set, we arrived at our lodging, put the groceries in the refrigerator, and lay down on a wooden platform to rest for a while.
The island gets dark early, so the sky was already losing its blue, but in return, it offered the comfort of being able to look at the sky without being dazzled.
Youngju, gazing at the sky, spoke.
“Jeong-hoon.”
“Yeah?”
“Just bear with it a little longer.”
“…”
“Time will resolve everything eventually.”
“Yeah.”
“If you look at the news, even celebrities who hurt people in drunk driving incidents come creeping back after some time. If they can be easily forgotten for such actions, this incident will also be forgotten soon.”
“Is being forgotten the problem?”
“…”
“Rather, I wish it wouldn’t be forgotten.”
What happens if it’s just forgotten like that?
Should I sneak back into broadcasting in about a year, pretending like nothing happened, and live like a celebrity again?
Or should I give up on broadcasting and dedicate myself to art in the shadows?
Of course, I have no complaints about the latter, but the problem is the public’s perception. If it’s just forgotten like this, the public might accept what Yong-han said as fact.
There’s nothing more to learn from the past.
Only the pursuit of newness is modern art.
So what should I do?"
After a while, when the anger of the excited crowd had subsided, I sneaked out to do an interview. Should I appeal that it was Yonghan's fault that time?
"I don't want to."
Why should I?
Why do I have to do that?
I washed my face and looked up at the sky.
"Youngju."
"Yeah."
"Can I stay here for a while? I feel so sorry for leaving the company management to you. I need some time."
"Stay as long as you want, silly. The world goes on fine without you."
"Ha ha."
It's reassuring yet somewhat bitter. The world keeps turning even without me.
Everyone lives a self-centered life.
I am always the protagonist of my life.
But I am never the protagonist of the world.
It's a bit bitter, but also somewhat relieving.
I covered my eyes with my hand and nodded.
"Thanks."
"What will you do while you're here?"
"I don't know."
"Will you paint?"
"My learned skill is thievery, so probably not."
"You don't really want to paint?"
"Well, sort of."
"Your lily paintings are really good. President Yumin Young or Mrs. Kang would have bought them right away."
"That's a gift for you, I don't plan to sell it."
"Really? You're giving it to me?"
"Yeah."
"What if I take it and sell it in Italy?"
"Ha ha, you can. It's yours now."
"Bullshit, just kidding."
A brief laugh, then silence again.
After a while, Youngju stood up and said.
"How about writing a diary?"
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