I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 29: Sixteen and Growing, Plus a Retreat and a Competition (12)

—

One week had passed since the start of the art contest.

Today was the day for professors’ critiques, which would determine the contest rankings, and for the paintings selected to be displayed in each school’s main hall to arrive. After the critique session, the award ceremony would be held—but that would take an entire week.

Despite the professors’ evaluations, they also needed to consider the live vote counts and general viewers’ comments.

“Why are we doing an art critique during free choice activities class…”

“Yeah, it would’ve been better if this was during career guidance class.”

“Or at least during PE time…”

“Wanna die? Why take away PE?”

But to the students, even the art critique session was dull. Normally, this was free time, so the thought of listening to a university professor’s lecture on artwork wasn’t exactly thrilling for most of them.

“Hey, Lee Ha-eun, isn’t this too much? You could’ve just shown us the artwork and let us go.”

Of course, not everyone felt this way, like Choi Yeseo, whining in front of me.

“Ha-eun’s so mean.”

Or Ha Soyeol, squinting at me with narrowed eyes.

“It’s all on YouTube anyway. You’ve probably already seen my painting.”

“Seeing it on a screen and seeing it in person are totally different.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Choi Yeseo’s retort and Ha Soyeol’s agreement. Were they ganging up to make me feel uncomfortable?

“Fine, you’ll see it later. We’re heading to the hall during class anyway.”

“Yeah, but I want to see it now!”

“Such a shame.”

Ignoring the two, who slumped their shoulders dramatically, I looked out the window.

There was still some time before free choice activities, and it would take a while for the paintings to be brought in. Just in time, I could see our school’s chosen paintings being carried into the schoolyard.

A total of ten paintings.

Each class period was 50 minutes, so they’d probably spend about five minutes on each painting.

Each school brought paintings from their contest participants, and our school had submitted 21 works in total. They must have brought back the ten paintings with the highest votes.

‘And my painting’s right on top. How obvious.’

My piece, Peach Blossom Village, was at the top, wrapped with special care. The other paintings were decently packed but didn’t seem to receive quite the same attention.

‘It’s blatantly obvious what they’re trying to do.’

After the critique session and the award ceremony the following week, they’d likely do everything they could to acquire Peach Blossom Village. Only a fool would fail to realize that.

In fact, the only reason I could recognize my painting from the schoolyard was because of one detail.

‘The bright pink stands out way too much…’

The bright color made it easy to spot among the other paintings. Even with my sharp vision, seeing details on the field from here would’ve been impossible.

I checked the time. Lunch was approaching.

“Ugh, I don’t want to do cleaning duty.”

Next semester, I was definitely switching to the teachers’ office cleaning duty.

—

At Korea Drawing’s Planning and Public Relations department…

Ahn Dae-min, the department head, was in the school’s main hall, setting up the paintings in advance.

Usually, it would cause an issue for a corporate employee to enter a school’s premises due to fairness concerns.

But the higher-ups at headquarters were so fixated on this painting that they made a bold exception, putting pressure on the school to let them in.

And so, Ahn Dae-min and Seol Yoon entered the hall, visibly sweating.

– Sir, are we really allowed to do this?

– I don’t know. But remember, we mustn’t let anyone realize we’re from headquarters. Our necks are on the line.

– What a mess this is…

Exchanging glances, the two sighed deeply, recalling their true purpose here.

They were supposed to meet the artist behind the most-voted painting from the YouTube live stream.

And that artist was someone named HAE-UN, a middle school student.

– Doesn’t that name sound pretty?

– Forget about that and worry about our futures.

At least for now, Seol Yoon was somewhat relieved, knowing it was Ahn Dae-min who had to take the lead in this nerve-wracking situation.

“Excuse me, where should I place this one?”

One of the men carrying a painting approached and asked.

For today, Ahn Dae-min and Seol Yoon were assigned as representatives of the middle school.

So they needed to fulfill that role with dedication.

‘What a pitiful life.’

Holding back a sigh, Ahn Dae-min inspected the painting in the man’s hands.

“Oh, that one… Please place it in the center.”

“Uh, the center? But that spot—”

“I know, I know. Just… please.”

He could almost cry.

The painting in the man’s hands was Peach Blossom Village, the work by the artist known as Ha-eun.

The usual practice was to position all paintings on the sides for fairness. Technically, Peach Blossom Village should’ve been set aside too.

But this was an order from headquarters.

Ahn Dae-min felt tears prick his eyes as he covered his face with both hands.

‘Where did fairness and justice go?’

Was this really okay? And they were even recording the session, which meant the repercussions could be severe.

Right now, he only has two hopes.

First, that he’d go unnoticed while meeting Ha-eun today.

Second, that Ha-eun’s art skills weren’t just a fluke.

Taking a deep breath, Ahn Dae-min braced himself for the free choice activities period to start.

Meanwhile, Seol Yoon, oblivious to his manager’s concerns, was happily munching on bread she’d bought from the cafeteria.

—

“Everyone, head to the main hall. Anyone who doesn’t come will be marked absent.”

Our teacher herded us all along with the threat of marked absences.

“Why bother with some boring art critique session?”

“Shouldn’t you be the last person saying that?”

The teacher shot me a look as I grumbled.

But really, I wasn’t wrong.

“Think about it, sir. What benefit does anyone get from listening to art critiques?”

“Then why do you draw, Ha-eun?”

“To make money.”

“How practical. Well, we’ve invited professors here, so let’s at least pretend to listen.”

“…So you’re just going to sit through it because you don’t want to waste the appearance fee?”

“Shh, that’s our little secret.”

Gross.

Though I said all that, I was somewhat curious about the other students’ paintings. Honestly, I didn’t care about the lecture as long as I could see the artworks.

‘What’s the point of a lecture? The professors didn’t even paint these.’

Their interpretations felt presumptuous and misplaced. They had no clue what thoughts went into creating each piece.

Would they even understand that the apple in Peach Blossom Village was a leftover from my little sister? I doubted it.

The point is, this art critique is a total waste of time.

Just like those critics who attach meaning to dots painted by famous artists. What if that dot were just a fly in the restroom? Would critics ever consider that?

Lost in my silent grumbling, we finally arrived at the hall.

When we entered, other grades were already there, seated in rows, staring blankly ahead.

No doubt they were all looking at my painting, Peach Blossom Village.

“Whoa… insane…”

“……”

Choi Yeseo’s jaw dropped, and Ha Soyeol’s eyes had a sparkle I hadn’t seen in a while.

‘They’re really going all out. They’re even recording this. The backlash is going to be intense.’

Peach Blossom Village was set in the exact center of the display. How did they do that with only ten paintings? There were four paintings on the left side, five on the right, and Peach Blossom Village stood alone in the middle.

It was basically screaming, “This painting is something else.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the audacity. This was why I’d resisted joining an agency until now.

Looks like tonight might bring some annoying conversations.

Under the teacher’s guidance, we paired up and took our seats.

I sat down with Choi Yeseo on one side and Ha Soyeol on the other.

…Or maybe they sat down with me. Either way.

After some time, the stage lights dimmed, and three elderly figures appeared on stage, taking their seats like judges.

The professors began their critique session.

The first painting was a personification of yellow flowers, titled Paradise of the Bees.

The title was impressive, and the artwork looked polished.

The professors began their critique, mixing praise with constructive feedback.

“Oh, this shows a fine use of decalcomania.”

“But it’s overly monochromatic. It’s hard to distinguish the flower’s shape.”

“Still, doesn’t it remind you of a beautiful tulip?”

Two playing the good cop, one the bad cop. It was like an intense job interview.

But to avoid being too harsh on students, most of the feedback leaned positive.

After all, these were just middle school kids. Childhood dreams shouldn’t be crushed.

Still, something about this session didn’t sit right with me. Why were these people critiquing artwork that wasn’t even theirs?

Of course, these professors held titles and were at the top of their fields. If they focused on skill and technique rather than interpretation, I might actually care about their opinions.

After each critique

, the student who created the artwork would come forward to explain their thoughts and process.

In theory, it was a great educational exchange, but… I wasn’t so sure. This was, after all, a contest held by a private company with profit in mind.

This was why I felt uneasy. Still, I wasn’t about to throw away my ticket to participate.

While the current student nervously explained his piece, the professors waited patiently, acknowledging his nerves.

They seemed decent enough as individuals—the real issue here was the corporate side.

Half-paying attention to the critique, I noticed two figures in the dim, secluded part of the hall.

‘So obvious.’

Clicking my tongue, I looked away.

I knew I’d inevitably meet them, but it wouldn’t be today.

‘Guess I’ll slip out through the back exit.’

I, Ha-eun, hated troublesome situations.