I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 27: Sixteen and Growing, Plus a Retreat and a Competition (10)

The Teachers’ Lounge

The teachers’ lounge was quiet as always, whether there was class in session or not.

Right now, it was P.E. time, but with the heat outside, I’d decided to spend the time here instead.

Of course, students couldn’t just stroll in whenever they pleased, but today the only teacher here was my homeroom teacher, who had given me permission.

“…You’re using that as your wallpaper?”

“What? Is that a problem?”

“No, just unexpected.”

Standing beside him, I noticed my drawing as his desktop background.

I’ve been seeing my work pop up a lot recently. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

“Still, I have to admit, I did a great job with that one.”

“You’d be more likable if you’d just keep quiet.”

“Well, I’m your only student. Don’t be too harsh.”

I took a sip of instant coffee, savoring the sweet and slightly bitter aftertaste typical of cheap coffee.

Back in my previous life, I couldn’t live without caffeine. Now, I hardly touched it, as my body didn’t handle it well. Sadly, that probably meant I wouldn’t be able to drink alcohol as an adult, either.

Smoking? I might as well jump off a cliff.

“Oh, by the way, when are you giving me that reward, Teacher?”

“Right… I almost forgot.”

Taking another sip, he sighed as he looked up from his computer, a little hunched. I couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him. His posture looked like he was on his way to developing a neck hump.

If I ever saw him at the hospital for that, I’d make sure to give him a friendly greeting.

“Now, let’s see…”

The teacher rummaged through his desk drawers, searching for the reward he’d promised me.

…Was it supposed to be in a drawer?

He was digging around like he was looking for random knick knacks.

“Ah, here it is. Take it.”

Straightening up, he handed me a shiny golden slip of paper.

“Thank you!”

I didn’t know what it was yet, but it looked fancy enough to be something good.

“Wait, a ticket?”

Looking closer, I realized it was a golden ticket that looked like something straight out of a comic book.

“It’s a musical ticket. I had a hard time getting it, so enjoy yourself.”

A popular musical ticket must have been hard to snag. How on earth did he manage it?

I gave a small bow in appreciation.

“And take a look at this too.”

Out of nowhere, he handed me a flyer for a contest.

“Oh, is this…?”

It was the contest flyer for the art competition that Yeseo had mentioned. We’d gone to the art café together recently, so I guess the deadline was coming up.

“I could only secure one ticket. You’ll have to get the rest yourself.”

With that, he turned back to his computer.

I looked at the flyer in my hand.

—

Junior High and High School Art Competition – Object Personification

– Event Location: School Auditorium
– Date: [Details]
– Live Voting via YouTube
– Judging Panel: University Professors
– Prizes Announced One Week Post-Evaluation

—

In a nutshell, that was it. But the only thing that really caught my eye was the grand prize—two musical tickets.

The other prizes were gift cards or household items.

Then a small, uncomfortable thought popped up:

– Is it fair to participate and potentially overshadow younger artists?

I mean, even though I might call myself a “genius,” I couldn’t ignore the years of experience that I had stacked up. I was the product of talent plus relentless practice—a bit of a monster, really.

Could I justify entering this competition?

It was a week-long event, starting the next morning.

…Maybe I’d observe the first three days to see the level of the entries.

Since the contest would be streamed live on YouTube, I’d be able to gauge the other entries. I’d still participate, but the key question would be how much effort to put in without sparking accusations of favoritism or cheating.

If I submitted something too impressive, there would definitely be comments about it being AI-generated or worse… that I’d had adult help.

—

Three Days into the Contest

Three days into the contest, the entries I saw were beyond decent. I had to admit, I was surprised at the skill level.

But while they were excellent by amateur standards, from a professional point of view… they still felt a bit flat.

By “professional,” I meant my standards.

“All right, I think I get it.”

I stretched, got up from bed, did a quick wash-up, and left the house.

When my mom asked where I was headed, I told her I’d be at the studio, and she waved me off with a smile.

The studio was just a short walk away from our apartment complex, so she didn’t worry.

Although it was technically a one-room setup, the studio was spacious enough for three people to work comfortably.

“…Why are you guys here?”

My two companions, Ha Soyeol and Choi Yeseo, turned to look at me.

“Hey! It’s the weekend, so we came to hang out,” Yeseo chirped.

“Sure, but why in my studio?”

“Look, Ha-eun. This.”

Soyeol stood up and handed me a drawing.

“Hm… Nice work.”

I gave her a double thumbs-up, and she sat back down, looking pleased with herself.

…Was I imagining things?

I slumped into an armchair in the corner, heaving a sigh.

There was no harm in them being here, though. I’d given them the door code, so I couldn’t really tell them not to come in anymore.

They’d even called it “our secret hideout” when I first gave them the code.

To be fair, I’d rented the studio because I’d run out of space to store my drawings at home.

For the record, I maintained this studio with the income from my YouTube channel. Buying a house had been a tempting thought, but that seemed excessive.

If the need ever arose, I could always revisit the idea.

Propping my elbow on the armrest, I rested my chin in my hand and decided to check out what they’d been working on.

But just a quick glance was enough. Their drawings were… well, rough.

Neither of them seemed particularly gifted in art.

“Ha-eun, are you entering the contest?” Yeseo asked suddenly.

“Yeah, I came here today for that, but you two are here.”

Ideally, I liked to work in quiet solitude. Some artists preferred a lively environment, but not me.

Art required concentration, and even small noises could be distracting when I was in the zone.

“Ah, so… should we leave?”

Yeseo scratched the back of her head, flashing an awkward smile.

Soyeol seemed to share her sentiment.

“Nah, it’s fine. Just watch quietly from the back.”

Somehow, the sound of their presence didn’t bother me.

It just… didn’t.

But I still hoped they’d stay quiet. Noise wasn’t exactly helpful…

Obligingly, they shuffled to a corner, each taking a seat and quietly scrolling through their phones.

Their consideration made me chuckle as I sat in front of the canvas.

I picked up the palette with one hand and a brush with the other.

It had been a while. I missed this feeling.

The only difference was that today, I felt strangely content, and I couldn’t deny it was thanks to those two.

I could paint without worry.

The contest’s theme was “Object Personification,” which was as straightforward as it sounded: to make any object feel human.

This theme was perfectly suited to me since I’d drawn countless portraits.

First, I had to pick an object.

I turned to the two in the corner.

“Hey, name any random object or item that comes to mind.”

They tilted their heads, pondering for a moment, then answered.

“Um… peach? I kinda want one,” said Yeseo.

“Shark,” said Soyeol.

A shark wasn’t quite an object, but I noted Yeseo’s suggestion. A peach, huh? I actually had an idea for that one from a past work.

Turning back to the canvas, I dipped my brush and began painting.

It didn’t matter what medium I used, but I always felt most at ease with a brush.

Let me briefly explain my system for categorizing my work: I had seven “masterpieces” and ten “great works.”

The distinction was that great works were a level below masterpieces.

This drawing would fall somewhere near the great work level, but not quite there.

It was a subtle difference, but one that could shake the art world.

One hour, two hours passed.

In the end, it took seven hours to finish the piece in front of me.

Just a bit more refinement, and it could become a true great work. But I wasn’t about to submit such an effort to a mere school competition.

When I looked outside, the sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

Both girls had dozed off, phones resting on their laps.

Checking my phone, I saw messages from my parents and quickly replied before snapping a picture of the canvas and sending it.

For a personified peach, pink was the first color that came to mind, so the illustration leaned heavily on pink tones.

The figure I painted was a girl with a bob cut and yellow eyes. Her outfit was a school uniform but incorporated peachy pinks and golden yellows.

In her hand, she held a peach, with a bite already taken out, her lively expression adding a spark of life to the piece.

Yet there was still a hint of detachment, a reminder that it was a painting, not a real person.

I’d infused all my best works with a sense of life.

At least, to me, they had always felt that way.

The background mirrored the school’s entrance, softened with pastel shadings to highlight the girl’s vibrant presence.

Any piece of art has limits.

And it’s the artist who breaks through those boundaries, choosing the right colors and tools, balancing proportions and composition.

That’s the attitude required to create a powerful piece.

“Sigh… Time to wrap up filming.”

I had recorded the entire process just in case. Checking the video, I found it had captured everything nicely.

A sheen of sweat broke out as the weight of spending seven hours on this one piece hit me.

‘…I need to get home and sleep.’

My parents had made me promise not to spend the night in the studio, and I’d agreed.

But right now, my legs and back aren’t cooperating.

Resigned, I sent a message to my dad asking him to pick me up.

I glanced at the bottom corner of the canvas, where I’d signed my initials and titled it.

-HA-EUN [Peach Blossom Fragrance]

All that was left was to submit it.

Though I wondered if this would be too much for a contest meant for younger artists.

Eh, whatever. It’ll work out somehow. If anyone complains, I’ll just post the process video.

“And… What should we do with them? They’re completely worn out right now.

If you’re going to sleep, go home and do it, you guys!”

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