“Aigoo. Late to the very first class. Sorry, everyone.”
Just in time, before anyone else could catch Seon Eunhu’s change of expression, the professor came in. He must have run over in a hurry, because impatience showed in his every small movement. In an instant the atmosphere in the woodshop shifted, and before long only the professor’s voice, launching into the lesson, could be heard.
I took advantage of everyone focusing on the professor to steal a look at Seon Eunhu. But he’d shifted in his seat in the meantime, so I couldn’t see his face. From my position I should’ve at least gotten his profile, but instead his broad back faced me head-on. His posture was poor, as if he’d deliberately turned his back to me.
“What’s with the sudden swearing?”
The senior sitting beside him gave a startled flinch and asked Seon Eunhu. Seon Eunhu seemed to say something in reply, but I couldn’t see the shape of his mouth, so I couldn’t make it out. The way he gave the senior’s back a light pat looked like he was telling him not to mind it.
People like Seon Eunhu.
The more time I spent in the same space as him, the more I felt it.
The way people looked over at Seon Eunhu every time they laughed was like they were currying favor, begging him to think well of them. It wasn’t as if Seon Eunhu forcefully seized control of the mood, yet a hierarchy existed around him, and everyone gladly melted into that hierarchy. Was it solely because he was an alpha? The professor was the one leading the class, but the center of this space was Seon Eunhu.
So then, why does Seon Eunhu dislike me?
The reason I couldn’t focus on the lecture was this mystery that had dropped on me right before class. Fine, I could let being hated go as something out of my hands, but not being able to even guess at the reason was frustrating. I resolved not to let it get to me, but it wasn’t easy, because I kept feeling certain that even if I’d been standing in that rainy liberal arts building holding dozens of umbrellas, Seon Eunhu wouldn’t have shared one with me.
“So, based on what each of you conceived today, make a model and bring it in by next week. Rather than buying chisels and hammers separately, it’d be better if we all purchased them together... Tsk, I think we’d better pick a woodworking leader.”
The professor, who’d been looking the students over, fixed his gaze on the cluster of junior seniors. When the seniors, not wanting to get stuck with the tedious job, turned their heads or ducked down in blatant avoidance, laughter poured out.
Laughing along, the professor got up from his seat to pick a leader in earnest.
“This kind of thing goes smoothly when a senior takes it on. Let’s see~ then~ the woodworking leader will be Seon Eunhu, who’s just this second fallen into a deep sleep!”
“Ah...!”
When Seon Eunhu, who’d been slyly playing asleep with his eyes shut, let out a groan, another big wave of laughter erupted.
“I picked you because you’re the best-looking, so wear it with pride- everybody hand your contact info to Seon Eunhu and make your payments! Then our woodworking leader will deal with the tool supplier on everyone’s behalf. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“All right, see you all next week!”
As the professor made his exit to the students’ farewells, Seon Eunhu came forward and took the vacant spot.
The sheepishness he’d shown when elected woodworking leader was nowhere to be seen. Having accepted his role in no time, he stood with both hands on his hips and looked the students over with a fairly serious gaze.
“You all heard the professor, right?”
At that warm, affable voice, the college sophomores answered “Yeees” as obediently as well-behaved little kids. Everyone in the woodshop knew Seon Eunhu had been granted the status of the professor’s proxy.
But it turned out that wasn’t what Seon Eunhu was asking about.
“They say I’m the best-looking one here.”
At the boast, given with a shrug, the students burst into laughter. Seon Eunhu, who’d been smiling with his lips stretched long, soon laughed too, baring his even teeth. Having seized the whole mood with just a few words, he was easygoing and brazen even with all eyes on him.
“Today I’m going to give you all a special chance to snag the number of the best-looking guy. It’s a very rare and precious number, so keep it just between us. Everybody pull out your phones.”
At Seon Eunhu’s direction, everyone quickly pulled out their phones. Once he’d confirmed everyone was ready to jot the number down, Seon Eunhu began reciting his number clearly, one digit at a time. After the last number, he repeated it several more times.
“Now send one message to this number. Don’t send anything pointless, just your student ID and name, right now.”
I tapped away at my phone keypad as Seon Eunhu instructed, admiring his cleverness. By giving out his own number, Seon Eunhu had done away with the time and trouble of collecting and entering everyone’s numbers one by one. From him, so skilled at handling a group, I could feel a real liveliness.
“Fair warning, if you invite me to some game or annoy me sharing useless links, I’ll block you on the spot. Anyone who’s sent their message can head out now.”
Once Seon Eunhu gave the okay, the students left their seats one by one. The moment I sent my message, I too shoved my phone into my pocket and stood up. In the meantime, Seon Eunhu, having returned to his seat, was chatting with another senior as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
...But really, why does he dislike me?
I was curious about the reason, sure, but being disliked by someone I found likable, the bitterness weighed heavier than the curiosity.
I wish he’d think a little better of me too.
Dragging my dispirited heart along like a shadow, I left the woodshop. Anyway, I had to hurry to the sophomore practice studio.
Today it was my turn to make the pig’s head.
In one corner of the sophomore practice studio sat a large pig’s head made of clay. The plump-looking pig’s head was so big that even spreading both arms wide, I couldn’t fully wrap it in a hug. Having passed through my classmates’ hands over the past few days, it was already close to complete.
“But isn’t the pig smiling a little too much? I think we need to tone down the mouth and the eyes a bit...”
Observing the smiling pig face head-on, I asked my classmate An Seunggyu. At that, Seunggyu gave a light shake of his head and pushed his glasses up. The way he used the heel of his palm to keep clay off the frames looked practiced.
“I asked the exact same thing, actually, but apparently the pig you put on a ritual table has to have a smiling face. It’s the one delivering our wishes to the gods, so it’s gotta be cute.”
“Ah. Is that so?”
Instead of remarking that the superstition was awfully detailed, I just gave a snort of a laugh. It was ironic that a fake pig made of clay looked happier than I did.
I put on an apron and rolled my sleeves up past my elbows. Focusing on the finished quality rather than the feel of the clay at my fingertips, I started smoothing out mainly the rough patches.
The reason I ended up in the sculpture department was simple. It started back when I was a high school senior, when my homeroom teacher brought word that Korea University’s sculpture department had a ‹Special Admission for Orphanage Alumni› track, and that it had come up short on applicants that year.
I’d had absolutely no interest in going to college, but my teacher called me to the faculty office every break period to persuade my indifferent self, and in the end I applied just to get her off my back.
The teacher must be working hard to pad her record.
That’s what I’d thought at first. But when the teacher, hearing the news that I’d passed early admission, expressed heartfelt relief that it had worked out before any congratulations, I realized. That she’d wanted to breathe some fresh wind into me. She’d apparently wanted to get me, listless about everything, moving.
As a result, I did end up living every day busily, just as she’d hoped. Since the school didn’t cover the full tuition, I had to pull my grades up into the top tier to get a full scholarship.
Liberal arts courses I could just brute-force memorize, but the problem was my major. Since I hadn’t come in prepped through the usual entrance-exam route, my practical skills were pretty pitiful.
So I had no choice but to put in the work. Figuring that since I’d enrolled anyway I might as well try hard, I practiced drawing late into the night in the empty department building and pushed my sculpting quality higher. There were more than a few times the teaching assistant pressed the tool-room key into my hand and went home.
Doing that, my skills didn’t improve dramatically, but they did climb to a certain level. And handling clay and drawing every day, I even found the work interesting.
Being someone who understands the necessity of death more than any reason to live, sometimes I wanted to give up on everything, but even so, I was spending my days fairly actively, just as my old teacher had wished.
“The two ears aren’t symmetrical.”
Using a hera whittled from bamboo, I fixed the shape of the pig’s ear properly. Where the hera passed, a convincing ear-curl took shape.
Just as I was about to move over to fix the other ear too, I noticed the screen of my phone glinting where I’d set it on the worktable. Wiping my hands roughly on my apron, I checked my phone to find a message from an unknown number.
[010-XXXX-XXXX]: Go Taering what [010-XXXX-XXXX]: lololololololol [010-XXXX-XXXX]: name again
...Spam?
Not understanding, I scrolled up to find the message I’d sent first a few hours earlier.
[Go Taerim]: student ID XX, Go Taering
Only then did I realize the sender was Seon Eunhu. Heaven knows what state of mind I’d been in, but there’d been a typo in the message I sent at the woodshop. So I quickly fired off a correction.
[Go Taerim]: It’s Go Taerim!! I’m so sorry
After sending it, I took in Seon Eunhu’s message again. The text laughing mischievously updated his image anew. He’d seemed like someone hard to approach, but seeing him spam out “lololololololol ,” he felt a little more familiar.
Wait, does he still not realize I’m me?
I guessed, going off the playful tone that was so different from when we’d met in person. Seon Eunhu seemed like he still hadn’t matched my face to my name.
