“Here, I brought you something delicious to eat...” – Himchan, first one.

“I hope you’re hungry…” – Jongup, second one.

“Do you like beer?” – Daehyun, third one

One by one, they would come, on different times, of course. Each one with a different gift to their muse.
Zinger was a mysterious charming woman. The mystery on her voice, her eyes, her words…

“I bought you something delicious to eat!” – Himchan said, entering the wooden cabin when it had been given him permission – “My sister baked some cinnamon cookies, and I thought of you”

“You’re so dedicated, are you not?” – Zinger greeted him with a smile.
A light touch on his chin, and Himchan was like a cold kitty on her warms hands.

He smiled brightly, handing his muse what seemed to be a box wrapped on a tissue.
“Can i… can i paint you?” – he asked shyly, when she turned around to place the box on the table.

Zinger smiled.
“If you wanted to paint me, you could have just said, instead of making your sister bake these cookies”

With her permission, Himchan painted her on a portrait. Her eyes had been painted as if there were brume in them; her skin was pale, like the clouds.
Himcham was gone by midday.
“Thank you…” – he said. A strange expression on his face, as if waiting for something.

Zinger smiled.
“Thank you” – she reinforced her words with a light peck on Himchan’s cheek – “It is beautiful”

It was midday by then.

Not long later, Jongup knocked on her door. Zinger would recognize him by the way he knocked on her door. Making a melody…

“I hope you’re hungry!” – Jongup greeted when she opened the door. – “I’ve cooked it myself”

“You’re so sweet, are you not?!” – Zinger replied, smiling.

Jongup smiled. Zinger’s voice was so tender…
“Can’t I… paint you a portrait?” – he asked, hopeful – “Your voice makes me see colors and shades that match perfectly”

Zinger smiled.
“If you wanted to paint me, you should have just said, instead of giving yourself such a burden of cooking squid just for me” – she said.

With her permission, Jongup painted her on a portrait. The hazel he had used to paint her hair, and the uncolored background matched perfectly with the roses he had drown with shades of red and blue.

“You’re beautiful” – he said before leaving.

“On your eyes” – Zinger replied, giving him a light peck on the cheek.

It was evening by then.

Not long later, Zinger heard Daehyun’s loud steps.
She opened the door before he could knock.

“Daehyun!” – she greeted, laughing at his scared expression.

“How-how do you always know?” – he laughed.

“A woman knows…” – she shrugged.

Daehyun smiled, entering the wooden cabin.
“Do you like beer?” – he asked shyly.

Zinger smiled.
“Sure.”

“And… would you allow me to paint a portrait of you?” – he asked, staring at the floor.

Zinger grinned.
“If you wanted to paint me, you could have just said, instead of going so far just to bring me beer” – she said.

With her permission, Daehyun painted her.
He painted a blue background, with dark clouds; there was a clear moon, and a woman without a face. One hand on her chest, close to her heart, the other was up, as if trying to catch the moon.

“It’s beautiful!” – Zinger complimented with sincerity – “You’re improving, Daehyun!”

“It is not finished yet…” – he replied. His eyes going from his muse to his painting.- “You…you always look so sad…” – he said. The brush loose on his hand.

“Why do you say so?” – Zinger asked. Her eyes on the loose brush.

“Do you… do you want to talk about… I don’t know, about what makes you sad? Maybe I could help you” –Daehyun asked, fixing himself on his seat, a wooden stool.

“I’m fine, Daehyun” – Zinger replied, with a short smile – “Thank you for the concern.”

The portrait remained unfinished.
It was late by then, so Zinger had given her admirer a torch, along with a light, but long, peck on the cheek.

She put the portrait together with the others, in a room. There was not much space left.
Then she left to her small kitchen. The gifts she had received from her admirers over the small wooden table…
Those men would come and give her treats, all those delicious treats… but Zinger didn’t feel anything. 
She couldn’t feel anything.
In order to feel, you must have a soul, and Zinger had long sold hers.

Letting out a sigh, she spoke to herself.
“Foolish…”