Diamond Dust Novel - Chapter 32

Inwoo Hyung got up, pushing his chair back noisily, holding the empty champagne flute. It was an intentionally clear display of displeasure.

“He talks just as offensively now as he did before! You just remember him differently because he only pretended to be nice in front of you. If anything, he’s actually improved now that he knows how to put on a forced smile while running a business.”

“It wasn’t that bad…”

Artist Shu-shu defended him in an uncertain voice against Inwoo Hyung’s attack, and the Director himself neither denied his long-standing favoritism toward Artist Shu-shu nor the ill-tempered personality Inwoo Hyung described.

The time before Phantom would mean before the gallery existed, so Artist Shu-shu wasn’t affiliated with Phantom then. Now, I could easily imagine him being a ‘good man’ only in front of Shu-shu even back then.

“Is there… such a thing as a good man? I’ve never seen one.”, The words he spoke at Director Han’s dining table, I wondered if they were a self-deprecating comment about his inability to be a completely good man to anyone but one person.

That thought flashed through my rigid mind, but it was something I couldn’t verify and had no relation to me. It was certainly not something to dwell on in this situation.

“He is an affiliated artist. I apologize for the extremely late introduction. You’ll be seeing each other often, so please take care of him.”

Although we were too far apart to shake hands, the artist smiled brightly at me. It was a smile whose beauty alone seemed to be priceless. But this time, I couldn’t even force a smile to the corners of my mouth.

“I… will also take care of you.”

My quiet greeting was immediately drowned out by the Director’s voice that followed.

“Don’t waste energy by doing things you don’t usually do. Everyone here knows you’re awkward with strangers. Don’t worry about greetings; just take care of yourself first. You’ll go into the conference without even having a single chocolate.”

He seemed anxiously worried that Artist Shu-shu would be called to the conference without even tasting one of his favorite chocolates.

Just as Artist Shu-shu finally finished one chocolate and emptied about half a glass of champagne, Yuni Noona opened the office door.

“Director, please take a look at the photo wall’s final touches. Artist, please quickly review the manuscript with me.”

As Yuni Noona disappeared into the inner reception room with Director Han and Artist Shu-shu, Inwoo Hyung, who was standing by the window, scowled at him.

“The overprotectiveness is still there. As is the tendency to assign all the bad roles to Director Han and keep the good role for himself. He subtly manipulates everything from behind the scenes, pretending not to be involved.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

He didn’t even blink at Inwoo Hyung’s attack. He was engrossed only in tidying up the chocolate box Artist Shu-shu had left and placing it back into the shopping bag.

“I’m not criticizing the overprotectiveness, but stop sacrificing others around you just to protect Shu-shu. You’re so skilled at multitasking in business, how can you only see one thing like that?”

“……”

Inwoo Hyung sighed at his expression, which suggested he didn’t understand what he was talking about at all. I knew Inwoo Hyung’s words were intended for me. But I wished he would stop.

As they left the office together, Inwoo Hyung grasped his shoulder with some force.

“Do you always have to speak that way? We think of it as your natural temperament and just put up with it, but… it’s honestly hard to watch, seeing how you treat others…”

Only then did he seem to understand what he meant, and he looked back at me, but the door immediately closed, and it was only a brief, fleeting moment. I couldn’t hear how he responded to Inwoo Hyung’s comment.

“Don’t take the Director’s words too seriously. He just doesn’t sugarcoat things when he’s working. And he’s especially sensitive about Artist Shu-shu’s matters. He’s our key artist, after all. We have to understand on a day like today.”

Juhan Hyung, who also seemed relieved now that everyone was gone, let out a long breath and massaged my shoulder encouragingly.

Was Shu-shu being the gallery’s key artist and today’s event being his opening truly the entire reason? Everyone seemed to accept that, but was I the only one attaching an unusual interpretation to it?

“Yes. It was a bit gratifying that the artist… spoke up for me.”

Unlike my usual self, where I’d let necessary words pass without saying them when I should, I added an unnecessary lie. Yet, I felt a far more terrible despair, at the reproach from writer Shushu toward him, and at the writer’s kindness toward me.

Juhan hyung moved the champagne flute Shushu had left behind to the windowsill and drank the half-full contents. It was time for us to tidy up roughly and head up to the second floor.

“That’s just how he is. Maybe because he grew up sheltered in a wealthy family, but he seems utterly oblivious to anything messy. To put it briefly, he’s kind, but a little clueless about the world. That’s probably why the CEO and the manager coddle him even more. I’m worried that if we leave him alone, he’ll go somewhere and sign some weird contract. Besides his fame as a writer, his looks are what they are, so a lot of strange pests really swarm around him.”

The words were completely understandable. It wasn’t just his beautiful features; the unique aura layered upon them made him seem like an attractive means to people who connected everything to business.

“He looked like an actor.”

When I nodded in agreement, Juhan hyung, who was standing by the shelf, quickly spun around. His face, when he turned, was flushed with a delight as if he’d heard praise for himself.

“Right? The first time I saw him in person, I almost fell to my knees. He’s not just handsome or pretty; he’s… he makes a person look almost sublime.”

I chuckled at hyung’s exaggerated gesture, but the content of his words wasn’t actually much of an exaggeration. He was the kind of person who seemed to possess a mystical, faint halo, like the actors who played elves in a fantasy movie I’d once seen.

“Even if they say there’s no genetic difference outside of reproductive function, it seems there’s an atmosphere that’s different from a Beta. It’s like he draws people in. No, rather than drawing, he sucks them in. Just watching him makes your mind feel hazy, like you’re being bewitched.”

Having finished his thought, narrowing his eyes as if concentrating his gaze on a spot in the air, hyung poked my back, lifted his chin, and put on an arrogant expression, as if to say, Did you finally get it?

“That’s a Golden Omega.”

Hyung had said it as a joke, but for me, the words carried weight and settled heavily in my heart. They seemed to speak of an immutable difference, decided even before birth, that could never be caught up to or overcome.

That’s a Golden Omega.

***

“Just a few more shots.”

Hyung said that, but since it was the third time he’d said it, I didn’t find it very believable.

It was awkward enough just wearing form-fitting shorts that rose slightly above my knees; I also had a bit of makeup on my face and had to strike something resembling a pose in front of the camera.

“Don’t look at the camera. Try to make a dreamy expression.”

“……”

The only times my appearance had been visually recorded were a few candid photos saved on More’s phone. At least, that had been the case for the past few years. To ask such a person to make a dreamy expression. Unable to endure the embarrassment any longer, I covered my face with my hands.

“Ah, that’s good, too!”

Yet, even that moment was captured by Juhan hyung’s camera.

“It’s okay, you’re doing great.”

Yuni nuna, holding a large reflector and illuminating me, gave me a thumbs-up, but it wasn’t much of an encouragement.

I recalled coming here as an onlooker and an odd-job runner. And at first, that’s exactly what I was. The reflector that nuna was now holding in an almost acrobatic posture had been my job just moments ago.

I had been watching their passion, which seemed to rival professional photographers and models, though I couldn’t be sure, with a somewhat complex mix of admiration and envy. I moved the clothes, shoes, and accessories that filled the trunk and back seat of the commercial vehicle we’d borrowed from Phantom for the day, moved any branches or stones that got in the way of the shoot, and ran various small errands.

After four or five hours of shooting that had started in the morning, the clothes we’d brought were almost finished. With the extra time, the two of them came up with a ridiculous idea: to use me as the model.

My most vigorous refusals and rejections could not stop the two people’s playful curiosity, or curious playfulness.

The two of them escorted me into the back room of the house, which was rented as a changing room. They dabbed artificial freckles onto my cheeks, roughly spread orange eyeshadow on my eyelids, and drew on eyebrows differently from their original shape. They made me wear the form-fitting shorts I would never normally wear and put on Juhan hyung’s rough work boots.