Chapter 259:
259
Admission (2)
The bees who had shared chocolate and snacks were gathered in the basement plaza of the shopping mall.
They recalled the fun time they had at the Dallyda Plaza, and looked forward to what they would do and play today.
“What are we doing today?”
“I can draw sunflowers well now.”
“I want to draw a chicken! A chicken!”
As one child opened his mouth, the others chimed in.
The parents and social workers who followed them to protect them tried to calm them down, but it was useless.
He wanted them to enjoy their freedom as much as possible since they came to play.
Instead of telling them to be quiet, he showed them the gold-wrapped coin chocolates that he had sponsored.
“What’s that?”
“I know! It’s money!”
“I’ve never seen that kind of money before.”
“It’s very, very good.”
“I saw it in a comic. It’s a gold coin.”
“What’s a gold coin?”
“Something expensive.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. Ten bags of chocolate?”
The children’s eyes sparkled with interest, and Ko Hun smiled brightly.
“I’ll give one of these to each person who draws their own face today.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. If you draw your mom or dad, or your friend’s face, I’ll give you one more. The brushes and paints will be distributed by that gentleman over there.”
As Ko Hun looked at Bang Taeho, dozens of children turned their heads at the same time.
Bang Taeho waved his hand with a friendly smile.
“Shall we start?”
“Yeah!”
The children rushed to Bang Taeho. They grabbed brushes, paints, and oil pastels, and stuck to the wall.
Gosuyeol smiled as he watched the scene.
“Teacher! How do I erase this?”
“Bro, how do I look?”
“Well… you have two eyes.”
“I know that.”
His heart warmed as he looked at the children playing with brushes and oil pastels.
“Why did you paint it green?”
“Because green is strong.”
“Strong?”
"Don’t you know the Savers?"1)
“I know. Then I’ll do it in blue. The captain is the coolest.”
The children painted the colors as they pleased. They drew freely according to their preferences, which had just begun to bloom, rather than the beauty that had been learned and handed down.
That’s why they were happy.
‘I was like that too.’
Gosuyeol remembered the time when he enjoyed the act of drawing a long time ago.
‘When did it start?’
At some point after he passed his innocent days, Gosuyeol became obsessed with winning.
After entering middle school, he was fixated on getting awards.
His goal was to prove that he was better than others according to the standards set by the established generation.
There was no one to praise him for drawing what he wanted to draw.
He received more praise when he won a contest hosted by a famous exhibition hall than when he won a school contest.
When he won the grand prize at the World Student Art Contest, his father, who used to scold him for being a prodigal son and ruining the family’s reputation, acknowledged him.
For the young Gosuyeol, getting an award was the only purpose.
He ran forward for a few years like that. After entering college, he realized that he had come to a very different direction from the beginning.
After graduating from college, he didn’t care about being better than others.
He tried to find himself who had forgotten, and widened his horizons by traveling around various countries.
Then people began to notice him little by little.
When he competed fiercely with others, he only had trophies by his side, but people started to gather around him from the moment he competed with himself.
Gosuyeol felt the wall every time he drew a work, but he never avoided it.
Not by someone else’s standards.
It was to draw a work that he could be satisfied with, so he was happy to stay up for a few nights.
Ten years passed like that, and he became the most prominent painter in Korea and Europe.
Only then could I enjoy the painting itself, just like when I was young.
It was the first time I had returned after more than 50 years.
‘I hope you keep smiling like that.’
“You did a great job!”
Led by Olivier, who always wore shorts, I went to one side of the wall and saw a rather avant-garde work.
The nostrils were aligned with the eyes, and the smiling mouth took up half of the face.
Next to it was a child with a small smile, covering his eyes.
Adley.
It was a good picture that showed how happy these two children were.
“Cool.”
“Right? This is our mom and dad.”
Olivier pointed to his parents.
Mom’s hands were red and dad’s face was not drawn, so I couldn’t tell his expression.
I remembered the incident that had upset Olivier before and guessed the mood.
I felt heavy.
“You drew well.”
I stroked Olivier’s head and gave him three gold coin chocolates.
“Wow!”
Olivier raised both hands and bragged to his friends about the gold coin chocolates.
It was fortunate that he could express his emotions honestly even under oppressive parents.
“What about Adley?”
“This.”
Adley moved aside and showed me his picture.
“This is Lavan, my brother. This is Fabre, my sister. This is my brother. This is Olivier.”
He introduced them one by one and they looked convincing. I couldn’t tell at a glance, but he captured their features well.
Lavan, who had big ears, Fabre, who had very bright blond hair, me, who had round eyes, and Olivier, who always had a band-aid somewhere.
“You drew well.”
I shook my head.
“No, you really did well.”
I handed him five gold coin chocolates, but he only took three.
“Why? You can take them all.”
“I like being the same as Olivier.”
I understood that he wanted to be with his friend.
“Then I’ll keep this for you. If you want to eat, find two and share one with Olivier.”
He nodded.
“This was chocolate!”
Olivier shouted loudly.
The children were startled and flocked around Olivier.
“Where?”
“It’s a coin but it’s chocolate?”
“Then it’s just chocolate, right?”
“Is it good?”
“It’s good!”
The news that the gold coin chocolates were delicious made the children compete to show off their pictures.
Grandpa, Bang Tae-ho, Fabre, and the parents and social workers who helped us went around and handed out gold coin chocolates.
Thanks to that, I got to see the pictures drawn by the children, and fortunately, they seemed to go well as I thought.
The children who came here drew themselves and their precious people in pictures, showing that this place was not divided by race or religion.
There were faces with green skin, blue skin, and even robot-like faces in between.
But I believed that the fact that there were children who dreamed of their own dreams here would be clearly conveyed.
Pure children who were not bound by the rules and norms, ideologies that adults had made.
By the way, it would take a lot of time to manage this wide place.
As it was around 4 p.m., the traffic increased, so I had to finish by applying the finisher today.
“Mister.”
“Yeah. We have to wrap it up soon.”
Bang Tae-ho called the children together.
The finisher, varnish, had to be spread thinly so that it wouldn’t stain, so it was hard for the children to do.
Grandpa, Bang Tae-ho, Fabre, and I thought of applying it properly to the pictures and around them that the children had drawn.
Bida and Lavan helped us as much as they could, but they were still clumsy.
I wish Marso had come. He would have been a big help.
“Anri!”
“King Bee!”
“Anri, Anri, did you try this? Is it really good?”
I turned my head and saw Marso, surrounded by children, wearing a yellow suit and a tie.
It was a peculiar tie, with several black lines slanting across the yellow background.
“How dare you call him so casually? He’s Marso the writer!”
“Ahahah! He’s a writer.”
“What’s a writer?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s hard!”
“Anri, why are you so tall?”
“What’s this?”
“It’s chocolate.”
“How did you know?”
He’s popular.
He’s loved even though he gets angry like that. That’s a skill too.
“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t come?”
“I just stopped by to buy something.”
He answered curtly as I approached him with a happy heart.
He was the kind of person who made his own clothes, shoes, and even cars, saying that he couldn’t wear factory-made products as an artist. He wouldn’t come to a shopping mall.
“That’s good. Can you help me paint the bunnies?”
“Help me!”
The children shouted together.
Marso frowned.
“What do you want me to do with these scribbles?”
“It’s our job. This is also how Chocolatier started, right?”
“Making chocolate?”
“I like chocolate.”
“Anri, did you see the house Hun made? It’s so cute.”
“Mine is much cooler.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Show me!”
“…What?”
“Show me! Show me!”
He wouldn’t show the sculpture he made with Michelle, leaning on his back and creating a sweet atmosphere, to anyone else.
“Be quiet! Do you think I made this for you?”
He looked embarrassed between the nagging children. It was a bit amusing.
Mr. Chevasson Simon, the president of the SNBA Association, turned on the TV to clear his head during work.
-Next news. Chocolatier, founded by the artists Anri Marso and Go Hun, started a public work at a shopping mall in Paris today and became a hot topic. The citizens showed positive reactions to the innocent laughter and cute murals of the children.
“Huh.”
-The shopping mall official said that the purpose was to recreate the scene of harmony that they showed at Dali Square.
Mr. Chevasson Simon was satisfied with the progress of Anri Marso, who would lead the French art world.
He didn’t sit still until a bill to protect the children was prepared, but took the initiative and stepped forward. It was not unreasonable that most of the people, as well as the association, supported Anri Marso.
“You’re doing well.”
The country had to become prosperous and the individual had to achieve development. They had to create a society with tolerance.
A leader had to spread his arms as wide as possible to make sure there were no excluded people. Anri Marso was building his image step by step.
The face of Marso, who was painting with the children around him on TV, was distorted, but he didn’t look unhappy.
‘He definitely changed.’
Mr. Chevasson Simon thought that Anri Marso, who was reckless, had changed little by little since some time ago.
‘Maybe it’s thanks to that kid.’
Was it because of the similar family background?
Or was it because he had a talent that matched his own?
The sharpness of Anri Marso, who was like a thorn that protected the rose, seemed to fade a little after meeting Go Hun.
He was happy as a person who supported him, seeing the wounded lonely hero find his nest.
‘If they work as a team, they can win.’
Mr. Chevasson Simon turned off the TV and started to review the business plan for a new exhibition based on the Art Nouveau competition.
1)A parody of the movie .
In the novel, Go Hun’s parents participated as concept art managers.