I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 30: Sixteen and Growing, Plus a Retreat and a Competition (13)

—

The art critique session had reached its final two pieces.

“Alright, let’s take a look at the next painting.”

At that, the ninth painting was brought forward.

‘Title: Clouds. While the theme is good, it’s too vast to properly convey.’

In art, every artist has their own limits. How did I know? You could tell by the lines and strokes in the painting. Vision and the ability to observe were two different things.

“Wow, this is really something. Doesn’t it almost feel like the clouds are alive?”

“The expression is overdone. You can see that it was too much for them to capture.”

“Still, that boldness could be seen as an admirable spirit of challenge, couldn’t it?”

Once again, the critiques were a mix of positive and negative, although the positives outweighed the negatives. Another student came up—this time, the ninth one.

‘The ambition was there, but they lacked time to finish it.’

For an artist, time is everything. If an artist falls into being just a painter, however, time can feel like it’s in surplus. And right now, I was very much just a painter.

“What does this left part represent?”

A female professor, smiling, pointed to a section of the painting. The student fidgeted nervously, not unlike the others before.

“Uh, well… let me think…”

He clutched his head as the professors waited. This was getting tedious.

Each artwork took five minutes. There were five minutes left of this free-choice class period.

My turn was up.

“We’re finally at the last piece. I’m very curious to see what awaits us.”

The professors, who had worn polite smiles until now, looked expectant. They knew which painting was coming up, of course. Who wouldn’t? The piece had already gone viral on YouTube.

Before I knew it, my painting was front and center, and the critiques began.

“The title is Peach Blossom Village. What do you make of it, Professor?”

“Well, as you can see, there’s a young girl with a happy smile. Perhaps it’s her ideal world, one free from academic pressures?”

“But doesn’t she look a bit too lively for that? If she’d freed herself from her studies, wouldn’t she look more carefree?”

“Not necessarily. Everyone experiences things differently, after all.”

This was giving me a headache.

“The character for peach in the title Peach Blossom Village suggests that perhaps the peach itself has been personified.”

One correct answer.

“What about the apple? What meaning does it hold?”

Wrong. There’s no meaning to it—unless the professor knew my little sister.

“Well, didn’t students recently compete about apples and peaches in some way?”

Where did he get that idea?

“Look at the techniques used here. Isn’t this what we refer to as pure art?”

Pure art, or art for art’s sake, emphasizes the aesthetic value of art itself rather than its application. I often used pure art techniques.

But there were few people who could actually recognize it. This professor… seemed unusual.

“…That’s true.”

“Looking closely, you can see subtle differences in other areas as well.”

Even the usually critical professor nodded.

“And the background showing the school, along with the uniform. This was done in gouache, wasn’t it?”

…This was getting a bit scary. Professor, enough already.

Using gouache for the background and uniform had indeed helped to emphasize the girl’s presence. I didn’t want the background and outfit to overpower her.

With the professors’ discussions wrapping up, my name was called.

“Good luck!”

“You got this!”

Ignoring the two as they cheered me on, I slipped my hands in my pockets. Without even bothering to wear my blazer, I walked up casually, radiating a “bad kid” vibe with a cocky saunter.

Those who knew me just rolled their eyes knowingly. Most of the other students, however, looked wide-eyed.

I climbed the stage steps and stood confidently in front of Peach Blossom Village.

‘Here I am.’

My self-assured demeanor seemed to take the professors by surprise.

Before they could say anything, I jumped right in.

“First of all, I think there’s a bit of a misunderstanding. That apple here.”

I pointed at the half-eaten apple.

“My little sister didn’t want to finish it, so she handed it off to me.”

“……”

“……”

“…What.”

Two professors were left speechless, and the third looked incredulous.

But I wasn’t finished.

“Also, as for the technique used here, it’s not exactly what the professor in the center suggested…”

I launched into an explanation of Peach Blossom Village, detailing each technique and style I’d employed.

Here I’d used one approach; here I’d used another. I even pointed out spots that looked carved and discussed how I’d created them.

I filled the entire three minutes allotted, thoroughly explaining my own work before stepping down.

By the end, the professors were left gaping.

With a refreshed smile, I returned to my seat.

I felt great.

My teacher’s face, however, looked utterly defeated.

—

– …Are you sure that was okay?

– Just stay quiet while I think.

Ahn Dae-min had just witnessed a shocking three minutes. The professors were supposed to be the ones teaching, but instead, it was the student who had done the teaching.

And it wasn’t a university or high school student—this was a middle schooler.

The professors had mostly been wrong in their interpretations, and they’d only gotten two techniques right. The disappointment on their faces was obvious.

‘Is it really okay to broadcast this?’

The title would probably be something like, “Van Gogh Reborn! And He’s Only 16?!” The reactions would undoubtedly be intense.

‘Did that student actually paint this?’

He couldn’t help but be shocked. It was hard to believe that a middle schooler had created Peach Blossom Village.

Explaining advanced techniques and correcting the professors’ mistakes were things that only someone with a sharp mind could pull off.

But until he was sure, he couldn’t make assumptions about whether that student was really Ha-eun.

He motioned to Seol Yoon with a finger.

– Wait by the main entrance right after this. Let’s see how the situation goes.

– Yes, sir! I’ll leave it to you!

With the timing left uncertain, Dae-min would be waiting at the front entrance for Ha-eun—completely unaware that Ha-eun planned to exit through the back.

Under the curious stares of students, he waited outside in the summer heat.

—

“Now that I’ve got my painting, it’s time to head home.”

After school, I stopped by the hall to pick up my painting. I’d need it for the awards ceremony anyway.

“Ha-eun, can I come by to see Ha-yoon today?”

“Suit yourself. But she doesn’t like you that much.”

“Huh? Really? Did I come by too often?”

“Just kidding. She actually said she likes that you’re as sensible as she is.”

“…Wanna die?”

My sister, though still just a sixth grader, was already seen as a bit of a genius. But here I had an idol being compared to a sixth grader in terms of general knowledge.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Ha-eun, look at this.”

As we walked out through the back gate, Ha Soyeol showed me her phone.

“There’s already an article about it?”

The screen showed public opinions about my painting. Unfortunately, the response wasn’t entirely positive.

[Clearly not done by the artist themselves, lol.]

[No way a student could make something like this.]

[I can’t stop staring. This was done by a middle schooler??]

Some comments were harsh, with most of the criticism aimed at my age rather than the artwork itself.

There were, however, some supportive comments from people who’d recognized me.

[Wait, I saw that frame and those initials on YouTube!]

These were people who’d recognized me from my YouTube channel, where I uploaded everything in my personal frame—a custom-made frame with my initials.

Mom had set it up so that any negative comments were filtered out by a program my dad had made, since he worked in IT.

And fortunately, the supportive comments were all from familiar usernames.

They were always rooting for me. Maybe one day, if I got a little famous, I’d try live-streaming. With my looks, I might just make it work.

…Or not.

“This is so unfair… It’s all just jealousy. Don’t let it get to you!”

Choi Yeseo tried to comfort me while Ha Soyeol patted my shoulder.

I wasn’t even upset, but these two.

“Have I ever let those comments bother me? Let’s just go home.”

What a tiring day. I needed to see Ha-yoon.

—

A week passed after the professors’ critiques.

It was finally time for the much-anticipated awards ceremony.

“Doesn’t it seem like Mom hasn’t been around in ages?”

“What are you talking about?”

Ignoring Mom’s odd comment, I got on the bus.

Since I had to attend the ceremony, Mom insisted on coming along, saying she couldn’t just let me go alone.

For the record, Ha-yoon was at school since today was a weekday.

“Oh, right! Look at this, son.”

Mom pulled up a YouTube channel on her phone—my channel.

“Look at all those subscribers!”

“One million…?”

I hadn’t been paying attention, but there it was, the million mark.

“You’re making more money than your dad now! The ad revenue is amazing.”

Mom raised her nose in pride, her hands

on her hips. She was being so ridiculous.

“Alright, alright, just… calm down.”

We weren’t the only ones on the bus, Mom… please.

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

Now she was making a pouty face. Another day, another adventure.

“…A little.”

“You little—”

She pinched my cheek, but it didn’t hurt.

Why was there never a normal day in my life?

The bus drove for a while before stopping at the Cheongdam-dong bus station.

The other passengers got off, and Mom and I followed suit.

As we walked out into the street, I noticed people’s eyes on us.

“Son, Mom’s still got it, don’t I?”

“Mom, stop.”

“What’s gotten into you lately?”

Truthfully, she did look younger than her age. Even now, she looked like she could pass for her twenties.

Maybe a mature twenty-something or an early thirty-something at most.

“Ah! Let’s hurry up; it’s so hot out here.”

With that, Mom pulled me along, heading briskly in… the wrong direction.

“Mom, that’s the wrong way.”