Chapter 246:
246
Banksy (5)
As Alex Wood approached, Ko Hun recognized him and greeted him warmly.
“Hello.”
The two shook hands.
“I’m Alex Wood. I run an art channel on YouTube. Do you know?”
“Yes, I watch your videos.”
Alex’s eyes widened as Ko Hun said he watched his videos.
“Really? You’re not just being polite?”
“Really. You introduced me at the Whitney Biennale, remember?”
“Awesome!”
Alex shoved his face into the camera.
“Everyone, did you hear that? Ko Hun, the artist, watches my videos. I’m such a person!”
└He’s made it????
└He used to eat hot dogs and do mukbangs like yesterday ??
└When did Alex become world class?
└He probably just glanced at his introduction video??? He didn’t even subscribe, don’t overdo it???
└My chest swells with pride.
└Look at his face covered with paint ??? So cute???
“Uh, did you subscribe too?”
“No.”
Ko Hun shook his head and the viewers flooded the chat with ‘hahaha’ and ‘lololol’.
Alex, who was used to being ridiculed by the viewers, continued the conversation without caring.
“Would you mind a quick interview? It’ll be really quick.”
“I’m sorry. The kids are waiting.”
Ko Hun looked around the kids.
“Ants!”
“Where?”
“Let’s paint the ants red.”
“No!”
“Why?”
“Well… If they suddenly turn red, their mom might not recognize them.”
“Then we can’t.”
“Yeah. We can’t.”
Ko Hun shrugged his shoulders and Alex Wood nodded as he watched the kids draw freely and have fun.
He thought he understood why there weren’t many reporters who came to interview him, even though he was such a hot topic.
‘He thinks spending time with the kids is more important than getting more media attention.’
Considering the art auction market, where the prices vary depending on how famous and how much buzz they generate, Ko Hun’s behavior was hard to understand.
But from the perspective of enjoying art, it was a very desirable behavior.
‘This is the real flex.’
He could have prioritized his fame and the price of his next work.
But Ko Hun looked different, valuing his time with the kids more.
But that didn’t mean he could give up on the broadcast.
‘Are you just going to leave?’
Alex Wood, who flew from New York, came up with a good idea to find a way to cover the scene.
“Can I draw with you?”
Ko Hun smiled.
“Sure.”
Alex was happy and grabbed a brush.
“Everyone, did you hear that? I’m going to collaborate with Ko Hun, the artist, and Go Soo Yeol, the curator. Maybe we’ll have an exhibition next year.”
└Don’t be clingy???
└What a bluff???
└If you have an exhibition, those kids will be masters by then
“Kids, look. I can draw well too, right?”
“You’re not doing it right.”
“You missed a spot here.”
“You can’t draw.”
“…Did you say I can’t draw?”
“Are you not from our country, mister?”
“Yeah. I came from America.”
“So you can’t speak well.”
Alex Wood became friends with the kids quickly.
Maybe it was because there were only children, but the adults just watched. I was glad he joined us.
“Hey! It’s the weird uncle!”
I turned my head at the familiar voice and saw Olivier, who was dragged away by his mother yesterday.
He made eye contact with me and cautiously stepped towards me, avoiding the sunflowers.
“Bro! Can I have some snacks?”
“They’re over there. Can your mom come too?”
“No.”
“Then?”
He answered confidently when I asked curiously.
“I just came.”
Olivier ran down the street to his grandfather’s car.
He’s a brave kid.
“Brother, I want a different green.”
“What kind of green?”
“A prettier one.”
A prettier green.
That’s a hard request.
I rummaged through the basket of paints and took out a few. He looked at them with a serious expression.
I gave him enough time to think and tried to draw a sunflower, but a familiar voice called me.
“Hoon-ah.”
Bida Lavani came up to me with a smile, looking much healthier.
She must have rested and eaten well while she was hospitalized, because her skin looked better too.
Someone was clinging to Lavani’s back and came with her.
Her sibling?
“Did you already get discharged?”
“Yeah. Yesterday. I’m not hurting at all now.”
I was relieved that she didn’t look like she was trying to hide her sadness with a smile.
“You’re here.”
I wondered who the kid with her was, but I recognized him when he came closer.
It was Adley, who left without having much fun the day before.
“She said she met you and brought you along. She said you wanted to come again.”
They seemed to know each other.
“Thanks for coming.”
He showed his face when I pretended to know him. I smiled warmly and he hid his face again.
“Hey!”
Olivier, who brought some snacks, recognized Adley and came over.
“Here.”
He shared his snacks, which was admirable.
“Let’s go over there and draw.”
“Uh…”
“Hurry up.”
Olivier grabbed Adley’s hand and headed to where the other kids were. He looked a bit flustered, but he didn’t resist, so he must not hate it.
Bida Lavani looked a bit surprised.
“Here.”
“Huh?”
“If you’re here, you have to draw.”
I handed her a brush and she smiled brightly, making the same expression as Adley.
“Okay.”
One of the reporters who came asked me if I wanted to finish the drawings that the kids made, but I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to make this street painting my work.
It was enough to leave it as a proof that I and the people who live in this village were together. It would be meaningless to fix the sunflowers that the kids drew.
Thanks to that, I could find some very unique sunflowers.
There were sunflowers with blue centers and sunflowers with yellow leaves and stems.
Some kids drew butterflies and bees, probably because they thought it was strange that there were flowers without them.
‘I think it’ll be done sooner than I thought.’
I looked around and it seemed like it would take a day or two to fill up the uphill road.
They said they would apply primer first, but some kids didn’t understand that it would increase the adhesion between the paint and the wall, so I didn’t know how far they would go.
“…”
As I sorted out my thoughts, I saw Bida Lavani in my sight.
She was looking around.
“What are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh. …I’m just curious.”
She waited and then started to say what she wanted to say.
“There are so many adults near our neighborhood, but nothing’s happening.”
“…”
“Me too. And Adley.”
I wonder what kind of life I had lived, if I was afraid of even being among ordinary people, if I felt strange.
“Not everyone is bad.”
Ravani didn’t answer.
“You’ve met a lot of bad people so far, so you’ll meet more good people in the future.”
“…Really?”
“Yes, you will. Michelle and the staff at Marso Gallery are good people, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
He finally smiles.
“You too.”
Cha, who was embarrassed by Ravani’s words and avoided his gaze.
A man shouted.
“Olivier! What are you doing here!”
The children flinched in surprise and the adults who were looking around also shifted their eyes.
It seemed to be Olivier’s father.
“Dad…”
“I told you not to come here, didn’t I!”
“I was bored.”
“Tsk.”
Olivier looked like he was about to cry any moment. He put down his brush weakly and greeted Adley.
“I have to go.”
“…”
“Tomorrow.”
“Olivier!”
The man shouted again, creating a fearful atmosphere.
I hated him so much, and the people who were with him on the street also showed their displeasure.
Grandpa approached the man.
“Heh. Hello.”
“…What?”
“I’m the one who draws pictures here, and the kid seems to want to play a little more. Why don’t you stay with him if you’re worried?”
The man looked around and snorted.
"An old man who smells like garlic on his breath. What a mess."1)
“What did you say?”
I couldn’t think of anything else.
I was filled with the thought that the bastard who was not even human had insulted Grandpa, and as I approached him, Grandpa came and stopped me.
“Hoon-ah, it’s okay.”
“He just insulted you, Grandpa.”
I couldn’t say it out loud, so I closed my mouth and Grandpa stroked my back.
“There’s no point in fighting with someone who doesn’t listen. It’s okay.”
I know he’ll never come to his senses in his life.
“But I can’t just let it go. I need an apology.”
“Hoon-ah.”
Grandpa tried to calm me down again, but the man came and threatened me.
“What did you say just now?”
“I said you, but I should have said pig.”
“You bastard.”
Before I could do anything, Grandpa grabbed the man’s wrist.
“Young friend, you have a nasty mouth.”
“Hey, let go of me.”
“Apologize.”
“Aaaaah!”
“Apologize right now!”
“…”
I wondered if he was the same person who said there was nothing to gain from fighting with someone who doesn’t listen.
He looked like he was going to break the man’s wrist any moment.
“Gr, Grandpa.”
I felt like something bad was going to happen, so I called Grandpa, but he blocked me with his other hand.
“Ow! What are you doing! Call the police! The Chinese guy is hitting someone!”
He was talking nonsense, as if he hadn’t been scolded enough.
“Dad! Grandpa, let go of my dad! Please!”
Olivier clung to him and begged, and Grandpa reluctantly threw the man away.
“Dad! Are you okay?”
“Argh! You! How dare you do this to me? Huh? Do you know who I am?”
“You’re worse than my son. I know you’re the bastard who tried to hurt my grandson.”
“I’ll sue you. Everyone here saw it! Huh!”
That jerk was still.
“Did you see that, everyone? Master Go Soo-yeol just gave a punch to that damn racist! He might be a child abuser, judging by how he treats his writer Ko Hun or his son.”
Alex Wood, who was speaking to the camera, turned his head.
“12,087 people saw who tried to use violence first. You can’t lie about it.”
bicot.
A derogatory term used by some French people for former North African colonies or Arabs.
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