* * *
The warm lights illuminated a surprisingly neat studio, despite his words.
Junhee’s gaze slowly roamed over the unique space.
Colorful paintings lined the walls, an easel stood with paints and brushes on a large wooden table.
Canvases lined up in an orderly fashion.
“…This is incredible. Beautiful, even.”
“I see it daily to the point it’s mundane, but it’s refreshing to know it’s new for you, Junhee.”
The air was tinged with the faint scent of oil paint as he took a cautious breath.
Though he knew little of art, he suddenly understood why people pay to visit galleries.
“Feel free to look around. I’ll grab something to snack on.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Do you like sweets, Junhee?”
When Junhee nodded shyly, Yoonjae smiled warmly and disappeared into the back.
Junhee looked around with care, careful not to leave even a trace of himself, and noticed a theme in the paintings.
“All of them… flowers?”
Paintings on the walls, those standing on the floor, even an unfinished work seemed to feature flowers of all types.
“They look so real.”
The thick strokes of vibrant oil paint made each bloom almost three-dimensional.
He took his time, studying each one as if engraving them in his mind, until his gaze stopped on a particular painting.
‘Wait. Could it be…?’
He recognized the signature on the corner of the canvas.
The “Peony” painting Doyoung had gifted him.
The signature at the bottom of that painting was identical.
“So? With all these flowers, maybe it’s a bit cliché.”
The voice from behind startled Junhee, making him flinch.
“…No, not at all. I’m amazed at how they look so real.”
“Come on, Junhee. Let’s go have a drink in my secret garden.”
Secret Garden? Junhee followed Yoonjae, slightly puzzled.
And there it was—a true garden.
A terrace garden, filled with all kinds of flowers and potted plants, the freshness of little flowering trees.
In the middle sat a small round table and two chairs, just enough for two people.
“It’s actually a bit embarrassing to even call it a garden, but I’ve been putting a lot of effort into it.”
“…I didn’t expect to find a place like this.”
“It’s my little hidden charm, right? Go ahead, have a seat.”
Yoonjae set down two drinks and a dessert plate on the table.
“It gets stifling if you’re only in the studio. The smell of oil paint gets overwhelming sometimes, so I needed a healing space like this. I love taking care of plants anyway, so I made sure to find a place with a terrace.”
A cozy studio and a secret garden… It felt like Junhee was glimpsing a new side of Yoonjae.
“I’ve barely noticed the passing seasons, too busy with work, but coming here, I really feel it’s spring. Thank you for inviting me.”
“See, I told you it’d feel refreshing, didn’t I? I’m glad you like it, Junhee.”
A brief silence followed.
It felt like a good time for Junhee to ask something, so he began with a light question.
“Your workshop’s name is Atelier 405—is there a special meaning?”
“Oh, that? It’s April 5th.”
Junhee thought for a moment about what significance April 5th could hold, and Yoonjae explained further.
“It’s both the day I opened this studio and Arbor Day. I didn’t plan it that way, but it turned out the remodeling finished and we moved everything in on that exact day. So it worked out well.”
“I didn’t expect it to have such a meaning.”
“Some people think attaching meaning to everything is silly, but if you think that way, nothing in life would mean much. It’s only when someone gives something a name, remembers it, and cherishes it that it really becomes meaningful.”
Junhee was the opposite.
He tried not to attach meaning to anything.
The moment he thought something was his, he feared the loss would become unbearable if he ever lost it.
“I’m curious why someone like you would come to work at our company, Yoonjae.”
The question felt a bit direct, but it was honest curiosity.
It wasn’t meant negatively; if anything, he meant it in a good way.
“Ah… Well, it was mostly because of my parents. They think I’ve broken up with Daeheon.”
Junhee had thought there might be something more to it, but hadn’t expected that reason.
“Do your parents disapprove of Mr. Kim?”
“They more than disapprove—they told me if we got back together, they’d shave my head and send me off to a fishing vessel.”
“…Excuse me?”
Junhee had expected Yoonjae’s parents to be gentle and kind, like him, so this was unexpected.
He could maybe picture Daeheon on a fishing vessel, but imagining Yoonjae there was nearly impossible.
“My family’s a bit complicated since it’s a remarriage. My mom especially dislikes Daeheon. He’s from a very humble background, raised by a single mother with younger siblings to care for, a classic rags-to-riches story.”
Junhee remembered Jiyeon mentioning something about Yoonjae’s mother.
‘Guess what? I’m about to get a VIP client! His mother’s apparently a famous makeup artist—Ms. Sunshine. You know, the one who’s on TV all the time, doing makeup for celebrities and high society. She’s the head of an academy.’
At the time, Junhee hadn’t realized that the client would be Yoonjae.
He wasn’t sure how much he resembled his mother, but he had clearly inherited her artistic touch.
“I personally think Daeheon’s strength and resilience are great qualities, but as a parent, I guess it’s different.”
“Mr. Kim doesn’t know any of this, does he?”
“No, if he knew, he’d probably react dramatically too. That’s why I’m worried.”
Yoonjae sighed deeply.
“Honestly, I never thought much about marriage, but seeing people around me settle down makes me a bit envious. And… I really like kids.”
As he spoke, there was a sparkle in Yoonjae’s eyes.
“What about trying to convince your mom?”
“Of course, I thought about it. But… I know her better than anyone. The moment I mention it, she’ll tell me to give up this studio. She owns this place, and if I go against her, I’ll probably be kicked out and forced to move back home. I’d rather be homeless than live with my mom in that suffocating environment.”
Junhee understood, even though their situations were different.
They both struggled with housing worries in their own way.
“I’m not exactly a famous artist yet; I’m just scraping by. Until I save enough to be fully independent, I have no choice but to rely on her.”
Hearing this, Junhee thought it was understandable.
Everyone faces struggles when caught between dreams and reality.
“Haa… but just talking about this openly is a relief.”
Yoonjae leaned back in his chair, letting out a weary sigh.
“I’m from a different area, so I don’t have many connections here except for some college friends. I don’t really have a social network, and, as you saw at Doyoung’s birthday party… a lot of them are pretty snobby, so it’s hard to talk about things like this.”
Junhee now understood why Yoonjae seemed out of place at that party, unable to join in fully.
“By the way, is Doyoung from your company, too…?”
“Yes. We met through the membership program. I won’t mention anything about you to him, so don’t worry.”
“Thank you. I didn’t worry, knowing you wouldn’t. But, could you keep it from Daeheon for now too?”
“…I’ll do that.”
“If you don’t mind, feel free to visit often. I actually get pretty lonely and need a friend… but maybe that’s too much to ask.”
Yoonjae chuckled shyly, slipping his hands into his apron pocket.
Junhee watched him, then glanced at his drink.
Something told him he’d want to come back.
The warm studio, this secret garden…
Somehow, in this hidden garden, Junhee felt he might just be able to share his own secrets.
A vague, uneasy premonition stirred within him.
“Wow, Jiyeon, you look amazing today! Got plans, huh?”
“Of course! Can’t spend a Friday night alone, can I?”
As the workday neared its end, the office grew lively.
Junhee silently focused on his monitor, not joining in.
“Going to meet that pilot boyfriend of yours?”
“Oh, I broke up with him a while ago.”
“Jiyeon, date a lot while you’re young! Don’t get married early without knowing what you’re doing, like I did.”
The team leader’s comment made the married coworkers nod in agreement.
Junhee’s team, Team 4, had a good mix of ages.
“But Team Leader, you and your wife get along so well!”
“That’s true, but… marriage isn’t just between two people. There are kids, in-laws, relatives offering unsolicited advice… that’s the hard part.”
“Honestly, that makes me think being an orphan would be easier.”
At that remark, Junhee’s fingers froze on the keyboard.
He knew the comment wasn’t aimed at him, yet his heart pounded irregularly, like a misfire, and his palms grew clammy beneath the mouse.
He felt his breath falter slightly.
* * *
