His paintings are mesmerizing as ever. Jieun leans in the glass window, palms leaving their mark, and eyes its tagged price in the right side corner. 70000 won. It’s too cheap for an artwork like his—all his stuff is cheap actually.

She sighs, breath fogging the glass, and backs away. If it was her, she thinks, kicking an innocent pebble until it flew a few feet from her; she would have doubled up the price, triple it even.

Then again, Jieun isn’t as talented as him.

It’s been an hour since she started sketching and her back is sore. Her pencil moves to make a line, a curve to a circle. Down, down, down, her hand shakes. Tsk. Another mistake. Stopping, she tears the paper away, scrunches it to a ball, and throws it in the collection of rejects by the bin (she is bad at shooting paper, she has always had a difficult time with her grip). Jieun looks at in distaste.

Gathering her stuff, she rushes out of her room in hopes to find a better place for inspiration to strike. Walking aimlessly leads her to his art store again. She’s been stopping by his place quite frequently without much intention.

SORRY, WE’RE CLOSED.

Even though she practically hangs around outside his workplace often than she liked, she never enters. Jieun stands and looks at his work admirably, appreciative of his precise brush and soft pastel tones. His works inspire her to practice and learn more about art.

At the same time, with the perfection he creates, she feels a pang of jealousy enveloping her heart, drying the small burning passion she has left. It is impossible after all that skills and passion alone can bring you success if you lack talent and creativity.

“Can I help you?”

Her sketchbook flies open as he startles her from behind. He picks it up, scanning its contents, and Jieun is mortified. She snatches it from his prying hands and shoves it inside her bag. It was one thing to show your drawings to your friends and another to a stranger—but to an artist? It was mortifying. 

"Sorry. Um, would you like to head inside for tea?"

Against her better judgment, Jieun agrees.

Jieun has never really met him in person until today.

He introduces himself as Do Kyungsoo, owner of the shop and an artist. She offers her name in return.

“You’re an artist too, right?”

Hesitantly, she nods. “Practicing.”

“How long have you been into art?”

“For a while,” since I was a kid. “you?”

Kyungsoo smiles. He has an easy smile. “For a while too.”

They talk. Mostly, Kyungsoo talks and Jieun listens. He recalls his tales about how he wasn’t meant to do things at a long period of time (“I’m very impatient; I always want to see the results very quickly,”) and as he was suggested to control it, he decided to enroll at an art class. It was difficult to sit for an hour or two with only your hands moving but Kyungsoo learned to focus diligently and eventually fell in love with. He shares that now he can do his art for six straight hours without interruption. “I made a career out of it. It was the only thing I was good at.”

She has already finished her cup when he ends his tale.

“Sorry. I’m really talkative. Art makes me really excited.”

Jieun doesn’t understand how art makes him excited when all it has ever done to her is frustrate her. She could never really do something properly the way she imagined it. Most of the time, she starts out great and messes it up later.

“Do you mind if I look at your works?” She says.

“Go ahead.”

His works range from an abstract of splattered colors to photorealistic paintings. He has more portraits and fewer landscapes. Jieun likes his portraits the most because he gives each poses life, something which she has yet to achieved. She tries hard to swallow her envy.

Her attention shifts to the covered canvas at the back. Kyungsoo catches her late and she unearths a painting, finding herself staring back.

“I see you sometimes,” he says bashfully. Jieun is still amazed to discover an unfinished painting of her but what stuns her most is that it looks beautiful. “You would stand there for a couple of minutes and stare in.”

His technique is flawless, capturing the sparkle in her eyes that she has not seen for a long time. An image that is achingly stunning. It’s as if the painting has more life than the current her.

“Why didn’t you come in?”

 “I had no confidence.” At a moment of weakness, she confesses. She blinks and oh, everything seems so clear now. A platter of fruits. A painting of a smiling woman. A landscape of a hometown. Everything in this place reeks of his success.

Jieun doesn’t have the confidence.

The walls are closing in and she can’t breathe. Her eyes mock her, she can see it. No talent, no dreams, not enough drive. A fool allured by pretty colors and pretty drawings. It’s all too much for her.

She backs away from her replica, knocking a few things over.

“Jieun?” Kyungsoo catches her by the arm. “Are you okay?”

His hold doesn’t keep her in place and she runs. Runs from his world. She wasn’t meant for this.

THANK YOU. SEE YOU SOON.

She doesn’t come back.