Van Gogh Reborn!

258

Admission (1)

I boarded the bus that Bugrenelli Mall had sponsored for the kids.

Even though I didn’t tell them to wear it, they were all wearing the bee outfits that the children’s clothing brand Lily had given us.

“I ate three breads yesterday?”

“Audrey is hungry!”

“Don’t say it so loud.”

“Audrey is hungry.”

Olivier repeated the urgent news for Audrey, who was embarrassed.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you hold on?”

Bong Taeho asked, and Audrey nodded with difficulty.

The bus stopped for a moment, and a social worker from the city hall ran off with Audrey somewhere.

I was about to sit down when I met Bida Rabbani’s eyes. She looked cheerful for once.

We sat side by side and put a piece of chocolate in our mouths.

“It feels like we’re going on a picnic.”

“Yeah.”

“Is this right?”

“What do you mean?”

“A picnic.”

I didn’t understand the question for a moment. Maybe she had never been on a picnic before. I nodded.

“Yeah. It’s a picnic.”

“Are we going to fight?”

“Fi, fight?”

Blanche Fabre, who was sitting in front of us, leaned her face in and Bida Rabbani flinched.

“It’s an opportunity to show how awesome Chocolatier is as a group of painters. You have to get your act together. You’re a Chocolatier too.”

“I, I’m not yet.”

“Are you not going to join?”

“I want to, but…”

Rabbani looked at me and Fabre.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“What are you talking about? Are you ashamed of us?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Then why?”

“…”

Rabbani didn’t answer.

Maybe she was worried about causing trouble because she was a Muslim, but Fabre didn’t care at all.

She urged her impatiently.

“Do you want to join or not?”

“I want to.”

“Then you have to show the boss and Hoon that you can do well this time.”

Fabre gave me and Bong Taeho a look.

It wasn’t necessary to go that far, but Rabbani seemed to take Fabre’s words positively.

“Uh, okay! I’ll do my best!”

She was more motivated than when she spoke kindly and politely. Maybe sometimes it helps to be blunt like Fabre.

Bida Rabbani showed her enthusiasm.

“By the way.”

I asked Fabre.

“You go to Henri IV High School, right?”

She nodded.

“We might see each other. The principal said that high school students can study with us too.”

Henri IV High School and its affiliated Henri IV Middle School seemed to have a lot of talented kids.

They offered special lectures for students who wanted to study more deeply than the regular subjects, and the art class by Principal Pusang was very popular.

Since the time was limited, he seemed to teach middle school and high school students together.

“Yeah.”

Fabre nodded.

“How is it?”

He seemed like a good person from the experience I had met him before, and he was also a benefactor of Marso.

But teaching was another matter.

I was curious what I could learn from him.

“It’s useful. The principal is an angel.”

“What kind of class did you take?”

“Art therapy.”

It was one of the subjects that Pusang had told me about.

I had a vague interest in it, as I had never approached it as a systematic discipline, but only as a way of finding peace of mind by drawing pictures and comforting myself.

“What are you learning?”

“I’m not learning.”

Fabre gave me a mysterious answer.

“You’re not learning?”

“No. I’m just playing.”

I didn’t understand what he meant, so I asked him again, but he said it would be no fun if I knew and refused to say more.

A little later.

“Wow!”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Did you make this, bro?”

When I showed them at the mall, the kids gathered around with sparkling eyes.

It was worth the hard work.

I was surprised when I peeled off a leaf.

“Here, try it.”

Olivier looked at the leaf suspiciously and glanced at me.

“It’s not a leaf.”

He seemed to have been too greedy.

He didn’t think it was chocolate, because I had used food coloring to give it some color.

He probably thought it was a fake leaf.

He wouldn’t believe it until he ate it, so I put it in my mouth and the kids were amazed.

“It’s delicious.”

I picked up a puppy and offered it to Adelie, but she shook her head.

“It’s chocolate.”

“Still. It’s cute.”

I didn’t expect this reaction. I thought everyone would like the candy house, but they said they couldn’t eat it because it was too cute. I was flustered.

“I’ll just eat this.”

One kid picked up a chocolate from the mart and the others followed suit.

Good intentions don’t always result in positive feedback. was a failure.

The kids just observed the candy house with curiosity and admiration, but they didn’t eat it.

I succeeded in attracting their attention, but I missed the mark. I had to keep that in mind when I made other works.

“What?”

Kim Ji-woo, a reporter for the magazine , was shocked to hear the news that it was going out of business.

“That’s what happened.”

The CEO confirmed the fact.

Some bowed their heads and some bit their lips. Kim Ji-woo and the rest were at a loss for what to do with their anger and disbelief.

was a small and medium-sized company with 17 employees, but it had been achieving positive results lately.

The magazine subscribers, which had been decreasing every month, had stabilized compared to six months ago, and the online article views had exploded.

“Why? What’s the problem?”

The CEO closed his eyes.

He was frustrated by the situation where he had to close the business that he had devoted his everything to, and he felt sorry for not being able to take responsibility for the employees until the end.

And he was also hurt by having to tell them such a fact.

Lee Sangcheol, the editor-in-chief, stepped in.

He had to tell them the sad news or the truth.

“You must have known that we’ve been in the red all along. The CEO paid for it with his own money until last year, and then he survived on loans.”

“…”

Kim Ji-woo and the employees felt their hearts sink as they heard the story from Lee Sangcheol.

Just last month, they had received bonuses and incentives from the CEO, but he had told them that he had borrowed money and shared it with them. They were speechless.

“It’s not right away. We have things to sort out and you have to find new jobs, so I’m telling you two months in advance.”

The CEO spoke up.

He exchanged eye contact with each and every one of them and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Kim Ji-woo stepped forward.

“I’ll return the incentive. It’s okay if I don’t get paid for a month or two.”

After graduating from college.

He had never imagined that , which he had joined in pursuit of his dream, would be in such a dire situation.

He knew it was hard, but he didn’t bother to find out the details.

It was no use knowing the negative situation, as it would only increase his worries. He thought that writing better articles as a reporter was the best he could do.

In fact, it was thanks to Kim Ji-woo’s performance that Yehwa was able to hold on for a few more months.

Kim Ji-woo’s article was widely reshared during the Artnouveau contest.

The Artnouveau contest special issue sold much more than usual, giving hope to Yehwa.

But Yehwa, who had focused on offline business, could not continue it.

They printed 10,000 copies, but only 2,000 of them were sold, and the situation did not improve.

“I’m fine too.”

Some echoed Kim Ji-woo’s thoughts.

Some did not respond.

Employees who had college tuition loans left, employees who had to pay rent, employees who had someone to take care of, none of them could wait indefinitely.

It was reality.

If they had confidence that the situation would improve in a month or two, they would gladly sacrifice, but they did not.

The representative shook his head.

Even if they postponed the payroll for a while, there was no more hole for the money to come out.

“Thank you for everything. I’ll appreciate your help for the remaining time.”

He regretted focusing on physical magazine publishing rather than online business with his own stubbornness.

It would have been different if it was his own thing.

Although he hit the limit, it was something he did to achieve his dream, so he would have been proud of himself.

But he could not raise his head in front of the employees who trusted and followed him.

He could not let them sacrifice themselves when they had a bright future ahead.

After the whole meeting.

Kim Ji-woo, who returned to her seat, could not get anything done.

‘I have to organize the source.’

‘I have to call Hoon.’

‘I have to go to Seo Inho’s exhibition.’

She had a lot of things to do in her head, but she could not grasp anything.

Even after the work hours passed, the editor-in-chief, Lee Sangcheol, who saw her sitting blankly, came over.

“You should go home.”

She had an unsettled word in her mouth. She did not know what to say or how to say it.

“…Yes.”

Kim Ji-woo, who went outside the building, bowed to Lee Sangcheol and walked away.

Suddenly, she wanted to hear something, and when she turned her head, she saw the editor-in-chief sitting in the smoking room installed in the corner of the company building.

He was sitting with his head down, not even lighting a cigarette.

Kim Ji-woo approached him. She sat next to him and lit a cigarette.

The two spent some time in silence.

“It’ll be okay.”

“It’s not okay at all. It’s ruined.”

Kim Ji-woo retorted to the consolation given by the editor-in-chief.

“Yeah. It’s ruined.”

The two laughed bitterly.

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

“Where would I have? You have a lot of places to call you, right?”

“Don’t be like that. Don’t feel burdened.”

“…”

The two took out new cigarettes.

“You’re good at planning and writing articles, so you’ll be fine. I mean it.”

“…Then what do you do. You’re the one who’s recognized everywhere.”

Lee Sangcheol chuckled.

“If you want to keep talking about art, why don’t you take this opportunity and go out?”

“What?”

“It’s more popular overseas. Thanks to Marso and Ko Hun, the recent art trend is good. England is a bit hard, so France might be nice.”

“Where would I have a place to accept me if I go to Europe. I just started walking in French.”

“If they don’t accept you, you can do it alone. These days, there are many cases where reporters do well by criticizing. Han Yesul or Cha Chaeun.”

Lee Sangcheol mentioned Han Yesul, a critic who became a world-renowned figure by covering various aspects of culture and art, and a famous person for music columns.

But to Kim Ji-woo, it sounded like a dream.

“I don’t know.”

Lee Sangcheol looked at Kim Ji-woo intently.

“When you interviewed for the job, you said you came because you loved art so much. Do you still?”

“Of course.”

“Then try to be brave. It’ll be okay.”

Lee Sangcheol handed Kim Ji-woo an envelope.

“What is this?”

“A reply.”

“What?”

“I have someone I know in Bozar. It’s hard to get a job, but I asked him to make a column for you while telling your story.”

Beaux Arts was a prestigious art magazine in France that Kim Ji-woo was well aware of.

“I was going to give it to you when you were in a good mood. But it turned out like this.”

“Editor-in-chief…”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It could be a rejection. I haven’t opened it yet.”

Kim Ji-woo tore the envelope with a snicker.

She thought it would be hard.

It didn’t make sense that she, who couldn’t even speak French properly, would write a column for a French magazine.

But she was grateful that he had tried so hard for her sake, even if it was rejected.

“…”

“What?”

“…”

“Don’t tell me you can’t even read that much?”

Kim Ji-woo slowly lifted her head.

“Editor-in-chief!”

She hugged Lee Sangcheol, the editor-in-chief, tightly.