The Mysterious Art Museum

Monica, who had been covered in dust all day at the construction site, was so tired that she kept wiping her tears even during the meal. She wasn't crying because she was sad, but because she was sleepy.

After the meal, Monica skipped coffee and went straight home.

I sent Monica off first and sat in the restaurant for a while, looking out at the square and lost in thought.

'Why is the museum following me?'

If I think about it rationally, I might assume there are two museums.

But according to what Lea, who led me to the museum, said, that building was originally empty.

A secret hideout-like space created by young Lea without the adults knowing.

The child bragged about that space to me, and that's how we ended up entering the museum together.

Then, the museum in Jongno must have followed me to Italy.

'What on earth is happening?'

Suddenly, I get goosebumps, feeling like I'm watching a horror movie.

'But the museum hasn't harmed me, right?'

That's right. The museum has been a lot of help to me.

It's not following me with any bad intentions.

'Wait a minute. What about Yeongju?'

Didn’t I introduce Yeongju to the museum before leaving Korea?

I checked the time first. It was nine o'clock at night.

It must be around two in the afternoon in Korea.

After gauging the time, I immediately called Yeongju.

- Hey, boss.

"Yeongju, everything's okay?"

- Mm, you know I'm in charge of the proxy review for the architectural art piece. Yeonjeong is handling it.

"Oh."

- There's a slight problem with the funding, so it might be delayed. I've explained the situation to the company that requested it, but strictly speaking, it's not Yeonjeong's fault, it seems like the documents they prepared were insufficient.

"Yeah, that's something we can understand and move past. Did the conversation go well?"

- Yeah, no other problems. Did you eat?

"Yeah, I just ate. It's dinner time here."

- Huh? Isn't it late night there? What were you doing eating so late?

"Haha, you know, this and that."

- Make sure to eat properly, kiddo.

"Okay, but Yeongju."

- Yeah.

"Do you remember the museum we saw when we went to Jongno?"

- .....................

"Don't remember? The night of the farewell party, we saw it while taking a walk."

- Uh, Junghoon.

"Yeah?"

- I was wondering whether to talk about this or not, but I thought I just didn't find it and was going to ask you next time.

"What is it?"

- That museum you told me to visit at that time. After you left, I walked around the area by myself? But I couldn't find it. If it's a nice museum, explain it in detail. I'll visit it next time.

"........................"

That's impossible.

I had talked with Yeongju right in front of the museum.

Where the first-floor ticket vending machine was clearly visible.

Even the museum sign was above our heads.

It was turned off, but it wasn't just something we passed by without notice, and it's not a location that couldn't be found even after looking around.

It's clear now.

The museum is visible only to me... No, not just me, Lea saw it too.

Anyway, it seems that only I or someone who comes with me during business hours can enter there.

"Oh, really? Okay. I'll tell you when I return to Korea. But it's a small museum, and there aren't many visitors, so it might close down."

- Why did you recommend such a museum then, what a waste of time.

"Haha, I liked it. Anyway, let's find a chance."

- Alright.

After that, I asked about work at the company and Yeongju's personal matters.

It wasn't so much out of curiosity as it was to quickly erase the museum from Yeongju's mind. It was a difficult situation to explain properly, so I intended to gloss over it.

Why is the museum following me?

Why is it helping me?

I can't say I've done particularly good things in my life.

Why has this fortune come to me?

My mind is furiously spinning, but my mouth spent a few minutes asking about the employees and Yeongju's recent situation.

Suddenly, I remembered the story of Monet I saw in a dream.

His friends criticized Monet for doing commercial art to earn hospital fees for his wife and son. I wonder how my friend Yeongju sees me now.

"Yeongju, can I ask you one thing?"

- Ask away, just say it.

"Do you remember what we said that night during our senior year, sitting on the grass, drinking soju after working on our graduation pieces until dawn?"

- "Was it just once or twice, man? We were so exhausted; we almost did it every day."

"Do you remember, we said that night, 'Let's become real great painters once we enter society.' You said you wanted to be someone like Van Gogh, to follow your own path even if society didn't recognize you."

- "Yeah, it was a tough dream, though."

I could sense the bitterness in Youngju's voice. Yes, such a path is incredibly difficult. Not just one in a hundred, but perhaps one in ten million might succeed in such a challenging journey.

"I said something similar then."

- "Yes, I remember."

"What do you think of me now?"

- "What do you mean by that?"

I hesitated for a moment, then continued.

"Well, the path I'm on now feels more like a businessman than an artist. It's completely different from the path we resolved to take on that grassy field. I'm just curious how that looks to you."

Of course, Youngju is in a similar situation.

If she curses, it's probably not at me, but at herself.

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