[Sim Himchan]

The night is fascinating. I mean it.

I can see things I don't usually perceive at daylight. I can let my fantasy drive me to new, exciting adventures. It's also a way for me to reflect on what I do, I think, I learn.

Sometimes, I even meet new people as the sky turns dark. I find it easier to mingle and become fascinated by exciting stories from random people passing by.

Yet, tonight, there's this weird feeling around me I just can't shake. It doesn't seem anything serious, but it does cloud my mind.

I think I'll take a walk to clear it. That usually helps.

***

It turns out I was wrong. I've walked downtown for approximately forty-five minutes; however, the gloomy sensation surrounding me hasn't left me yet. To make matters worse than they already are, I hear a loud voice coming at me. "Hey, you! Yes, you, Sim! We gotta talk now."

Shit. Not her.

Can't she at least avoid bothering me at night?

As she clicks her heels in my direction, I consider turning my back at her and leaving without paying her attention. She doesn't relent, though. She grabs my left arm so violently that I can't let go of her grip.

"Leave the fuck me alone!" I yell, but she ignores me.

"No, please, Himchan, listen. I-" Since when has she started calling me by name? Usually, she addresses me with my surname or, worse, calls me names. Who does she think she is to forget the bullyish treatment she and her clique gave me and the other newbies?

"What the fuck do you want? Consider yourself lucky that I didn't turn you in to the committee." This is something she would usually say. That's why these words, coming from me, sound as unpleasant as the way she makes me feel every time she belittles me for "not fitting in."

She shakes her head. "You won't listen, huh?"

I sigh. "Kari, just go away."

She insists. "No."

"Okay. You don't want to leave. Fine. I'll accept that. But you'd better have a good reason for interrupting my night walk." I try giving her a menacing glare, but it doesn't work. Kari doesn't take me seriously. Shit. I guess I will never be as intimidating as my father.

"It's that... I need you to do me a favor."

"Excuse me, what?" I dismiss her attempt to ask me for something I won't do even under torture. "Forget it. And don't you dare blackmail me. I know you well enough to understand you thrive by pulling this kind of stunt."

"Himchan, are you serious? What the fuck! This isn't work—come on! I'm not asking you to, like, behead the President." Although she tries to reassure me, I'm still on the fence.

"It's that... I need you to help me setting up a date." Kari's face turns beet red as soon as she pronounces the last word. She doesn't strike me as someone who's invested in romance.

"A date? With whom?" I have to be honest, this offer does pique my interest. But what's the catch? With Kari, I can never be sure she isn't setting me up. She's been on me since day one. I haven't taught at Grand Ridge High for that long, just a little over a year and a half, but that was enough for Kari to go ballistic, simply because it took me little to win students over, unlike her.

"I can't tell you. Just help me!"

"Okay, is there anything else I should know?"

"For now, no." Why is she asking me for a favor when she doesn't even delve into details? How am I expected to help her asking out a person I don't even know? I can't backtrack anymore. It sucks because I have to help someone who despises me, but I don't want to pass off as an unreliable person who doesn't keep promises.

"Okay? So, is it it?" I ask, visibly irritated at her.

She returns to her usual tone. "Yeah, yeah. Thank you. We'll talk on Monday, after classes are over. Now, go away. I'm busy." Wow. I shouldn't have thought she'd mellow down and maintain that attitude. I guess she'll go back to turning my life into hell until (or unless) her date is a success.

I walk at a brisk pace and pass Kari on purpose. She tries to shoot a glare at me, but I mimick her before bursting into laughter. She doesn't seem to like it. That's her problem, not mine.

***

Dad's call startles me. Usually, when he reaches out to me on the phone, he does it to mess with my mind or joke. This time, however, it looks serious. I'm in for a shit load of trouble.

"Hi, Dad... How are you?"

"Himchan! Thank God you answered quickly. Listen, it's about the exhibition. I know you're looking forward to it, but-"

I interrupt him. "It's cancelled, isn't it? Dad, whatever the reason is, it doesn't look good."

He reprimands me. "Let me finish, young man. Be patient, for once. Anyway, no, Himchan, it isn't cancelled. And, no, before you ask, it isn't postponed either."

"So what?" I can feel my veins popping. I don't know if I'm just nervous at the inconvenience, or annoyed at Dad's extremely calm demeanor. Too much for my liking.

"Do you remember I told you it was on June 23? Well, forget it. It's tomorrow." I go pale as I learn the new date. How can he warn me about the change with so little anticipation? I'd like to believe he also found out last minute like me, but I can't help thinking he knew beforehand and is just tricking me into one his plans.

"Tomorrow? This means I have literally no time to prepare my works—not that I even have many." I panic. How am I supposed to prepare the paintings and visual concept in just one night? I need a miracle. Maybe I should just bail out.

Unfortunately, it's like Dad has read my mind. "We have no choice, Himchan. Come up with something. We can't afford to make a poor figure." His words are more than just a stern warning. They sound like an ominous threat.

I reply with a sarcastic tone. "Yeah, yeah, count me in, then." He just mutters an unconvinced 'good night' and hangs up.

"Fuck you." I know he won't hear me, but his set up is awful. As bad as Kari demanding I do her some ridiculous favor. I guess I can't do much—all I can do is hope not to mess up. I mean, I do have some paintings to bring to the exhibition. The problem is, how am I supposed to present them? How can I make them all cohesive?

I'm too demotivated to even think about it. I guess I'll go straight to bed. If luck assists me tomorrow, fine. Otherwise, the organizers will either pin the blame on me and Dad, or will cower away for fear of retaliation.

I take my shoes off, kick them next to the nightstand, and lie on the bed without changing into my pyjamas before I close my eyes and drift myself to sleep.