I Was Michelangelo in My Past Life

Michelangelo buried himself in work his entire life.

Take 1547, for example.

Around the time Pope Paul III issued an official decree appointing Michelangelo as the chief architect of St. Peter's Basilica—

Michelangelo was simultaneously working on the Campidoglio restoration, the Borgo fortifications, the Farnese Palace, and the frescoes of the Pauline Chapel.

That year, Michelangelo was seventy-two years old.

The evening sky looked like crushed blueberries.

Kang-seok lowered his gaze from the window to his worktable. The familiar setting was the Iterum Glass Workshop.

Sitting on the chair prepared by Jo Dong-beom, Kang-seok shifted his hips slightly, testing it. The support along his lower back and hips left something to be desired. Normally, he wouldn't have minded. But having experienced the "Meteus Airgod" chair just a few hours ago, the discomfort now felt far more pronounced.

"I really do need to make one myself soon."

He reaffirmed his decision internally.

For modern people who spend over half their day sitting, the importance of a chair couldn't be overstated. He now understood why his father, who used to frequently stand up while working, had done so.

Considering his father had lived like that for twice as long, no wonder his back had suffered. Thinking that far, Kang-seok tapped the screen of his phone.

Jo Dong-beom, watching him from behind, tilted his head. Meteus? The name rang a bell. His gaze drifted unconsciously from the phone to the worktable.

Just moments earlier, Kang-seok had been delicately applying white feathers using tweezers. On the desk sat a bird-like figure made of gears, with a white wire forming the frame, and half-attached feathers surrounding it.

He was alternating between feathers and tufts of fur. The craftsmanship was no ordinary feat. But Jo Dong-beom couldn't guess why he was suddenly making such a thing.

"What on earth is he trying to create?"

As far as he knew, Kang-seok had already completed his piece for the graduation exhibition. The human anatomy art book was ready to publish, only waiting for printing. Had something changed—maybe a message from Secretary Ryu Soo-heon about that earlier negotiation?

Curiosity bloomed across Jo Dong-beom's face. Next to the mechanical bird were glass-crafted butterfly wings, stacked neatly. A bird and butterflies—completely unpredictable.

Did Peony Gallery order another wall installation?

Unable to hold back, Jo Dong-beom finally asked,

"Master, did you get a new commission?"

Kang-seok turned his gaze from the phone. Seeing Jo Dong-beom's eyes flick toward the desk, he gave a short chuckle and shook his head.

"Not yet."

A response tinged with lingering certainty—as if a commission was on the way. Did he have a prophetic dream or something? Jo Dong-beom looked at him, unable to hide his curiosity.

Kang-seok smiled faintly and picked up his tweezers again. The phone was now lying facedown—apparently finished with whatever "Meteus" had been about.

"Just preparing in advance."

He said it with unshakable conviction. Just as Jo Dong-beom was about to ask what kind of commission he was expecting—

There was a knock on the garage door of the Iterum Glass Workshop.

Heads turned toward the sound, then back to Kang-seok. He just wore a cryptic expression.

Jo Dong-beom slowly stood and opened the door.

"Oh, you were in. Long time no see."

It was Ryu Soo-heon.

A cultural arts officer from the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism.

He had dark circles threatening to fall to his chin—likely due to preparations for the reopening of the Yongshin Land themed studio. The hand holding his high-caffeine drink was trembling with borderline dangerous fatigue.

"Yes. Hello. Are you alright...?"

Having seen Ryu Soo-heon and Kang-seok talking in the evenings recently, Jo Dong-beom had grown familiar enough to show concern. Ryu waved it off with a brief hand gesture and stepped inside.

"Kang-seok."

As always, his business was with Kang-seok.

"Secretary Ryu. Good evening."

Kang-seok greeted him. Ryu bowed in return and pulled a document from inside his coat—a threefold sheet that slowly unfolded.

His hands moved swiftly, indicating this was what he had come for.

"This time, I finally got it."

He handed the document to Kang-seok. It was a contract—the ninth version, by the looks of it, given all the past rejections.

Kang-seok scanned the densely written clauses with practiced eyes. Then he stopped. There was a clause that hadn't been there before.

In addition to a 400 million KRW payout, it stated that he would receive extra incentives from the building's admissions—not just the entrance fee to the themed studio, but 40% of ticket revenue specifically from entry to the renovated building.

This was excluding personnel costs, previously agreed upon.

The building in question was originally not scheduled for renovation. Convincing the upper brass to not only allow renovations but also to add a separate ticketing system for it—that had taken work.

Still, what mattered to them was the result: profit. Normally, they would have insisted on keeping the revenue themselves, citing cost overruns.

"We got lucky. A public art initiative in Jongno had a massive budget injection, but it ended up being criticized as an eyesore. Now there are student protests claiming it's a waste of taxpayer money... But when I looked into it, there were real issues with the artist selection process. That gave us an opening."

Ryu smiled wearily. His success was thanks, in part, to the Peony Gallery's glass installation art. The piece had drawn a notable crowd near Gwanhun-dong.

The famed Marktoob piece had been restricted to private viewing, which only made the public flock to see the more accessible glass wall art and the piece titled Sunset.

This public interest had gained attention in high places.

"Well, no surprise. The steady income from Peony Gallery each month would make anyone at the top pay attention."

Still, it wasn't something the higher-ups would've understood quickly. The dark circles under Ryu's eyes were evidence enough—likely 60% of them from fighting for this approval.

Kang-seok repeated his thanks, mentally resolving that if his daughter ever wanted to become a civil servant, he'd put his foot down.

He pulled a fountain pen from his worktable and signed the contract. With terms finally in place, there was no reason to delay.

Separating the original from the copy, Kang-seok took something from his bag and handed it along with the returned copy.

It was a sheet of paper.

"This is...?"

"A blueprint."

A full renovation blueprint for the abandoned building.

"I'd like the main structural elements to proceed as-is before the finer details are worked out."

Though contract negotiations had taken time, construction for the Yongshin Land themed studio had already begun, with labor hired and progress underway. So Kang-seok's portion needed to start swiftly.

Ryu received the blueprint.

'Hmm...'

It was high quality—impressively detailed. Almost too detailed.

Can this be finished in time?

Ryu stroked his chin.

Aside from Kang-seok's section, the rest only needed basic cleaning, repainting, or murals. The timeline should have been easy.

But seeing this made his face tense.

The blueprint wasn't flashy or excessive—but it was meticulous. Perhaps too meticulous for a typical Korean architectural setting.

Thoroughness isn't bad, but...

"Do you think this can be finished on time?"

A themed studio is, ultimately, a studio. Quick reopening meant faster ROI and a chance to show tangible results in the second half of the fiscal year.

That's how Ryu had pitched it to the upper brass, and now he looked at Kang-seok with concern, clearly hoping the renovation might be simplified.

At that moment—

Kang-seok met Ryu's gaze. His worktable was piled high with materials.

Just then, the streetlamp outside cast a glow through the window, lighting up Kang-seok's face in sharp relief.

"It will."

He wore the expression of someone who had never known failure.

Meanwhile—

"Then let's proceed with that plan."

Principal Oh Gyu-hyeok of Cheonghwa Arts High School massaged his temples. It felt like a migraine was forming.

"Fine by me. I agree."

Sitting across from him was Yang Seon-gu, looking far too pleased with the outcome. Watching the standoff, Go Du-han let out a long sigh.

"If it's settled, can we wrap this up already?"

If Go Du-han had a cat's tail, it would've been swishing irritably as he slapped the table.

Looking around, he saw the room packed with subject instructors. All had gathered to decide where to hold the upcoming exhibition.

That said, it wasn't as if Yang Seon-gu, who had stepped in midway, was an unwelcome intruder. Strictly speaking, this meeting was to decide where Kang-seok's piece from the third-year graduation exhibition would be displayed.

Yang Seon-gu insisted that for Kang-seok's convenience, his work should be shown separately at the Bloom Art Museum—or that the exhibition should simply be held there.

Oh Gyu-hyuk, who knew all too well how expensive an exhibition at the Bloom Art Museum could be, wanted to draw attention back to the graduation show by leveraging the buzz around Kang-seok.

In that sense, holding a solo exhibition at the prestigious Bloom Art Museum—where even renowned professionals struggle to secure a spot—would miss the point entirely.

Oh Gyu-hyuk proposed the opposite.

He insisted Kang-seok either move his work to where the other third-year graduation exhibitions would be held or create a new piece specifically for the event.

The two could not find common ground. But today, they had finally reached a dramatic agreement.

Though, in truth, Yang Seon-gu had pushed it through.

In any case, this was why Yang Seon-gu had involved himself in a matter the teachers could have easily discussed among themselves. He stroked his mountain-spirit-like beard a few times, looking pleased, and stood up.

Now, the delayed tasks could finally move forward.

They needed to photograph the works for the exhibition catalogue, design the layout, create a compelling visual presentation, and print physical copies in time to distribute three per student before the exhibition opened.

One for safekeeping, two for distribution.

Considering the 80 students, the art teachers, visiting guests, and copies needed for display, they would need at least 300 printed catalogues.

Would they make it in time?

The date of the exhibition flashed through Go Du-han's mind.

Just then—

Bzzzzzz. His phone vibrated.

Go Du-han excused himself from the exhausted group and stepped out of the principal's office. As soon as he answered the call, a loud voice erupted from the speaker.

— "Teacher! Teacher! It's here. The real thing is here...!"

The real thing.

Go Du-han's eyes widened.

It could only mean the life drawing collection.

Late at night, so dark the blueberry-colored dusk had turned pitch black.

The living room, as dark as the night sky itself.

At the small kitchen table, Kang Hyun-do had cooked a fiery ramen with bean sprouts and clams. He poured beer into a frosted glass—cold and clear, bubbles rising gently up the sides.

Today was special.

Baek Myeong-hee had gone to bed early. Kang Chae-young was out at a pajama party with academy friends. Kang-seok was likely to return in the early hours again, having stayed late working on his art.

It was a party for one.

Kang Hyun-do clinked his beer bottle against the glass with a crisp sound and took a big swig. The beer slid down his throat, cold and refreshing—perfect after a day without air conditioning, just the fan whirring nearby.

Summer and beer—an unbeatable combo.

He emptied the glass in one go.

Then, as the fizz from the beer tickled his throat, he scooped up a spoonful of spicy ramen broth. Ahh—this is it. This is the taste. How long had it been since he'd had a beer like this?

As a reward for months of hard work, Kang Hyun-do smacked his lips and reached for another bottle.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

His eyes twitched in alarm.

Beep.

The door opened—and in walked Kang-seok.

He turned his head toward the smell of ramen in the air.

"Oh? You're back?"

"Yeah. You're home early, Seok-ah."

Kang-seok greeted him instinctively, then paused in surprise, kicking off his shoes and approaching.

"Yes. I have school tomorrow. But what about you, Dad? What's the occasion?"

"Just felt a bit hungry."

It was already 1 a.m.

He usually had dinner around 7, so if he'd been awake this long, it made sense to be hungry. Kang-seok nodded and came over to the table. Kang Hyun-do, without thinking, quickly moved the beer bottle out of sight.

Conveniently forgetting the time he once offered soju.

Kang-seok smirked slightly, then slid something across the empty table—his phone.

Kang Hyun-do's eyes followed naturally.

On the screen, a green confirmation page glowed.

A few key lines jumped out immediately:

[Meteus Airgod Metallic Version: size B][Headrest option included][Wheel option included][Discount coupon applied][Total Payment: 3,215,073 won]

Kang Hyun-do's eyes widened.

Didn't he say he'd make it himself?

Their eyes met, and Kang-seok scratched the bridge of his nose, ears tinged red.

"I figured there'd be a lot of new furniture needed for the new studio—thought at least one piece could be a Meteus. You said you wanted one, right?"

Kang Hyun-do stared silently at the phone screen.

"They said the metallic version is sold out and will take about a month to ship."

"·········"

"I thought carnations alone weren't enough. And making one would take time, especially with the major renovations coming up at Yongshin Land. So, yeah. It's late, but... happy Parents' Day, Dad."

He remembered the sting of Baek Myeong-hee crossing out "chair" in red from the furniture budget, saying they didn't need it if Kang-seok was going to make one.

And now that sting was completely washed away.

Kang Hyun-do looked at his son.

"Seok-ah...!"

'Honey...!'

At that moment—

He thought he heard something.

.

.

.

"Honey? Seok's dad?"

"Huh?"

Kang Hyun-do blinked and turned his head.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Baek Myeong-hee was looking at him with concern. Kang Hyun-do, now pale, glanced at his phone again.

On the screen was a picture of Kang-seok, smiling brightly, sitting on the newly arrived Meteus—sooner than expected.

"Heh... ha. No, I'm fine. Just... got lost in thought for a second."

He still found himself recalling that dreamlike moment, even now, two weeks later. It lingered, unexpectedly.

Turning off the screen, Kang Hyun-do looked up at Baek Myeong-hee.

She held a large bouquet. He noticed she was also carrying a box of chocolates.

"Let's go."

"Yes."

Together, they squeezed into the bustling crowd of students in uniforms, parents with cameras, and others that made the place feel more like a school festival.

"Bouquets for sale!"

"Get your bouquets for the exhibition!"

"We have chocolates too!"

In front of the Bloom Art Museum in Hannam-dong—where street vendors were a rare sight—the area buzzed like the entrance to an amusement park.

The energy was like a school festival.

[Congratulations! Cheonghwa Arts High School Third-Year Graduation Exhibition!]

A massive banner hung above the entrance to the museum.

June 28th.

Two weeks and one day since Kang-seok had completed his sculpture.

Today was the opening ceremony of Cheonghwa Arts High School's third-year art department graduation exhibition.