CEL 19

He really hasn’t contacted me once.

Jaeha frowned slightly as he stared at the chatroom pinned at the top. There wasn’t any special reason he had pinned Seo Hamin’s chat. It was just that if he didn’t, it kept sinking down, almost like it would hit the bottom. That was all.

But after that day, when Hamin really stopped showing up, Jaeha somehow felt irritated.

What kind of stalker has so little persistence. Even if he was busy, couldn’t he at least send one message?

As he thought that, his expression grew worse, and the junior sitting across from him glanced over nervously and asked.

“Sunbae, does this not suit me?”

“No, it suits you.”

Jaeha answered smoothly with a smile.

The Western Painting department’s booth was henna. It was simple, just place a stencil and rub, but since everyone customized their designs using their major, it was popular.

Among them, he was of course the top pick. Seeing the unusually long line in front of him, he sighed inwardly, when the senior working beside him muttered.

“Ah, it’s hot. I want something cool.”

“Should I go buy something?”

“Huh? No, it’s fine.”

“No, I’ll go. I’ll bring something for the others too.”

When he insisted, the senior reluctantly agreed.

“…Then, yeah? They said there’s a fruit punch booth over there, should we rest and eat some?”

“Sounds good. Then I’ll stop here.”

What a polite kid. And he spends money well too.

The senior thought so as he nodded. But in truth, the second part was the important one.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say the Western Painting department gatherings were divided into before and after Han Jaeha. Despite being rich, Jaeha never acted stingy when paying. He never embarrassed anyone, never made them feel guilty. In a world full of people who made things awkward with lines like, “It’s my money, did you pitch in?” or, “If I’m rich, do I have to provide for everyone?” he was a rare kind of junior.

It was the same with the festival prep. He paid for whatever cost money, and on top of that, he handled the heavy work himself. Since the department was mostly women, they were always short-handed, but since Jaeha joined, they had never felt strained.

He really was a good guy.

Even now, when customers piled in, he had been the first to notice his senior struggling and quickly stepped up. Han Jaeha was a decent guy.

The senior, nodding to himself as he kept drawing henna, only realized something was wrong when Jaeha left and the entire line moved behind him. But by then, Jaeha had already slipped away.

‎

Finally got out.

It was eleven now, so if he stuck it out for another hour, ate lunch, then went to class, it would be fine.

Having classes throughout all three festival days was a blessing. If he had been unlucky and had free time overlap, he would’ve been stuck playing clown in the smelly tents all day.

He had planned to say the line had been long, but he needed to check if it really was. Looking at the festival map, he searched for the fruit punch booth. “Law department’s Fruit Punch,” as the blunt name suggested, was the law department’s.

Seeing “Law Department,” Jaeha briefly thought if Seo Hamin could be there, then quickly dismissed it. No way.

“Three thousand won.”

No way at all…

“Can I order two more fruit punches?”

“No, once you’ve paid you have to line up again.”

“Ah, okay!”

Why is that guy there?

Jaeha stood frozen, staring at Hamin rushing around alone. While everyone else moved slow like snails, Hamin was cutting fruit, pouring soda into cups, taking money. He looked like some boy head of household.

But more than that, what caught Jaeha’s eye was the change in his style. The wavy hair that had never looked good even as a polite compliment was now straightened somehow, and the bangs that had covered his eyes were cut short.

It couldn’t be called a huge change, but since Hamin had always stood out, once his hair was neatly styled he didn’t look like a regular student at all. He looked more like an idol, an actor, or a streamer.

With someone like that cutting fruit, of course customers would line up. Seeing the queue stretch out past four or five booths, Jaeha wondered why is he doing that. At that moment, Hamin’s eyes met his.

“Han Jaeha?”

So he remembered his name after all.

Feeling even more crooked than before meeting him, Jaeha walked closer.

“Sunbae, what are you doing here?”

“Making fruit punch.”

“You never said you were participating in the festival.”

Well, he hadn’t until the last time they talked. And even now, Hamin regretted taking part.

When he had sent the message, he hadn’t thought joining the booth would be this much hassle. He realized something was wrong the moment he saw the devastated faces of his classmates.

•••

“Does no one here even know what fruit punch is supposed to be?”

At a junior’s words, spoken through clenched teeth, everyone’s faces filled with embarrassment. Hamin felt the same.

…Hadn’t they said fruit punch?

Avocado, tomato, melon, cucumber, cherry, lettuce.

Every single one far from being fruit punch ingredients.

“Was it that hard to buy proper fruit?”

“…It was cheap online, so I ordered it, but I didn’t think it’d come like this…”

“That’s your whole excuse?”

“But avocados are kind of expensive…”

The glare made the speaker shut up. Even he knew it had been too much.

Hamin silently dug through the big box. The label “Random Fruit and Vegetable Box” explained the situation enough. Not only were none of the items useful for fruit punch, but few of them even looked fresh.

They were lucky no one sued for selling this.

“…This won’t work.”

He unconsciously muttered without. The junior who had been most fired up came toward him, face flushed.

“You came just to ruin the mood?”

“……”

“If you’re going to say things like that, just leave. I’ll handle it.”

Her words were more venting than anything, but he stayed quiet.

He glanced around. The booth was decorated about twice as much as the others. She had taken the event seriously. Honestly, Hamin couldn’t understand pouring so much energy into a simple school festival, but that didn’t mean they could cancel what was already set.

He crouched down silently and picked out the few things that might pass for fruit punch ingredients. Seeing him start working without a word, the junior also closed her mouth.

“We don’t have much time, so let’s hurry. Someone in the back, take the pits out of the cherries.”

With that, everyone silently began preparing the ingredients. Those who felt guilty at least pretended to work, but the ones who had only come to mess around just strolled about. Especially the group fanning themselves around one girl was an eyesore.

Why did they even ask for help?

Looking at them with disdain, Hamin’s eyes met Park Seyeon’s. She curved her eyes in a smile, and he quickly turned his head away.

“Seoryeong can be a bit much.”

As Hamin washed fruit, Hwang Yohan suddenly spoke beside him.

So her name was Seoryeong.

“What about her?”

“No, just… it’s only a department booth, you know.”

Why was he saying this to him?

Hamin glanced around at the handwritten signs everywhere. Whatever others said, for the few gathered here the festival meant something. They had carved out time to decorate the place, so there was no need to disparage it.

“I don’t really think so.”

He didn’t say it out of dislike for Hwang Yohan. If anything, it came from indifference.

But Yohan seemed to take it differently. His clean face showed a faint crack. He set down the cutting board and knife he had been tidying and turned away, joining Park Seyeon’s group.

With Yohan’s attention gone, even the others who had been working started slacking. In the end, the only ones actually doing anything were Hamin and the junior Seoryeong.

That was the scene Jaeha saw.

“If you’re buying fruit punch, get in line at the back.”

What the hell fruit punch talk is this?

Seeing Hamin sweating, working alone while everyone else loafed around, Jaeha felt his irritation rise. Hamin alone was busy, while the rest either fooled around or posed.

What kind of pushover work was this?

He was about to speak out, but someone else called to him first.

“Oh, Jaeha?”

“…Hello.”

“Did you come to see me?”

“Ah, you came to see Park Seyeon? Then come in.”

With that, Hamin went back to making that damned fruit punch. What a ridiculous sight.

And the way he said “Park Seyeon” so softly made it even more annoying.

Why say someone’s name like that?

Grinding down his bubbling irritation, Jaeha stepped inside. It was even worse up close. Hardly anyone was actually working.

“Hello. I’m Han Jaeha, sophomore in Western Painting.”

“Oh, the Art Department’s prince.”

Careful not to let his voice sound annoyed, he sat down. The nickname he hated immediately popped up. But unexpectedly, it was Hamin who reacted.

As he chopped chunks of melon, he glanced back when he heard “prince.” With his good looks, it stood out.

“Now we’ve got the Law Department prince and the Art Department prince together in one place.”

What kind of cringeworthy nonsense was that?

Praying his eyes weren’t twitching, Jaeha asked back.

“The Law Department prince is Hamin-sunbae?”

“What? No. The Law Department prince is Yohan.”

Yohan?

Jaeha looked around for anyone who could deserve that title, but saw none. They all looked like blocks of granite.

“Haha, I’m embarrassed. Next to Jaeha, my face doesn’t even look clean.”

That was when Yohan, standing at the back, he stepped forward with an answer. Only then did Jaeha get a good look at his face. He blinked with a complicated expression.

He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he wasn’t ugly either. His looks sat somewhere in the middle. Being handsome usually meant big eyes and a fist-sized face, right? Of course, Seo Hamin was closer to pretty than handsome, but if someone here deserved to be called a “prince,” it would be Hamin.

Thinking that far, Jaeha shook his head to push the thought away. Was he going crazy?

Hamin, whose thoughts kept drifting to their conversation, denied it inwardly too. Not with the self-absorbed thought that he was more of a prince than Jaeha, but because the word “prince” didn’t suit Hwang Yohan at all.

It was a cringeworthy nickname, but Hamin had admitted Jaeha’s looks from the very first time. Jaeha’s face was practically a signature telling him to go be a celebrity.

Compared to that, Hwang Yohan was… a lesser version of Jaeha in many ways.

As he thought this and sliced through a tomato, the knife went in wrong and juice splattered everywhere.

He looked down. In an instant, the area was a mess.

“Uh…”

“What is this?!”

Seoryeong screamed at the red liquid that covered the cutting board.

“Clean this up… get some tissues first.”

“Tissues won’t fix this. Step aside. Excuse me, customers, could you wait just a moment?”

Chaos broke out after that. None of them had dealt with something like this before, so they floundered, and the customers left. The booth that had been packed a moment ago emptied.

Looking at Seoryeong’s blank face, Hamin gave a sheepish look.

“Sorry.”

“If sorry fixed everything, why would there be laws?”

“One of the purposes of law is also reform…”

“It’s ruined.”

Watching her bite her lips in frustration, he rubbed the back of his neck. This time really had been his fault.

Jaeha looked at the scene with disbelief. The tomato juice could just be wiped up, so why was Hamin looking like a criminal?

Seeing the others just stand around staring blankly at Hamin made his gut twist.

Not one of them steps up to clean.

While Hamin scrubbed the floor before even worrying about his stained shirt, Jaeha strode over.

“Sunbae, change your clothes first.”

“It’s fine.”

Even when offered an excuse, he refused, like the pushover he was. Jaeha forced a smile.

“Don’t. There are spare clothes in the studio. I’ll lend you one. Hamin-sunbae, I can take him, right?”

He looked around at the crowd staring at them, then at Hamin again. When Hamin just nodded, Jaeha grabbed his thin wrist and led him out. His mood soured.

Hamin, who always spoke back to him when they were alone, acted like an idiot in front of others, and it annoyed him. The people snickering at Hamin annoyed him too, and so did the girl who scolded him over one small mistake.

As he followed silently, Hamin mumbled.

“You didn’t have to go this far.”

“I didn’t know you enjoyed festivals this much. You’re really passionate about department activities.”

“If I agreed to do it, I should do it properly. Otherwise it’s a burden on others.”

“The real burden was most of the people back there.”

At the festival-empty studio, Jaeha pulled out a shirt from a cabinet. It was a bit small, but he handed it over. Hamin immediately pulled off his top. Jaeha spun around in shock.

“Sunbae, seriously! Don’t you know how to be careful?”

“What’s there to be careful about between guys?”

Watching his overreaction, Hamin changed with indifference. The size was big on him, but it was better than wearing the ruined shirt.

Unlike calm Hamin, Jaeha had to bury his face in his hands to calm his pounding heart. What little he had seen of Hamin’s body had been smooth, with almost no fat and no visible muscle, but the frame itself was well built, making him look lean. And most of all… his nipples were pink.

Why the hell would a guy’s be pink?

Even when he tried not to think about it, the pink kept coming back to him. He shook his head until Hamin tapped his back lightly. Startled, he turned.

“Wh-what? What is it?”

“Thanks for the shirt. I’ll wash it and return it.”

If Seo Hamin washed it, would his own clothes smell of forest too?

That perverted thought made his face grow redder, and Hamin tilted his head.

“Are you sick?”

“No. Let’s go.”

Despite saying that, his eyes darted all over the studio full of sketches.

For Hamin, who only knew paints and paper, the sight of experimental materials and tools in different shapes was striking.

“Curious?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t show you other people’s spots, but that one’s mine.”

Jaeha pointed to a workspace that was a bit more orderly than the rest. Still messy, but better than the others.

“You were drawing this?”

“Yeah. It’s for class. Still just the sketch.”

Even as a sketch, it had a lively presence. Hamin stared at it for a few seconds, almost entranced, then asked impulsively.

“Can I try coloring it?”

“This is my assignment.”

“Coloring is easy.”

Coming from the guy who had turned a landscape into an abstract, the words were absurd. Watching Hamin fiddle with the paints, Jaeha sneered.

“Even just coloring, if you do it you’ll ruin it. What about my grade?”

“You don’t care about grades.”

How the hell did he know that?

By now, Jaeha wasn’t even surprised at Hamin’s stalker-like awareness. He answered reluctantly.

“You have a talent for saying the right thing in the most irritating way.”

As a sign of permission, he filled a jar with water and handed it over. Hamin carefully picked up the palette.

After thinking a moment, he dipped the brush into black paint to shade the dark areas. Jaeha immediately corrected him.

“That’s not black.”

“I have eyes.”

“It’s brown mixed with blue. We don’t use black in watercolor. It kills the transparency.”

Hamin tilted his head at the small reference photo taped to the easel. It didn’t really click. Wouldn’t it be fine to just use black?