Chapter 8:

Scarlet stood at the base of the staircase, her fingers hovering over her phone screen. She stared at Ha-neul's text from earlier, his invitation to meet at the Tintoretto Scuola Grande di San Rocco. Her heart felt heavy, the weight of her earlier conversation with Ha-joon pressing down on her chest. She sighed deeply, then typed a quick response:

"I'll meet you there."

She slipped her phone into her bag, squared her shoulders, and headed out. If nothing else, meeting Ha-neul would distract her from the emotions swirling in her head like a storm she couldn't escape.

When Scarlet arrived at the Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Ha-neul was already waiting by the entrance. He was dressed casually, his black hoodie and jeans contrasting with the ornate beauty of the Renaissance building behind him.

"There you are," he said, flashing a small smile. "I thought you might've changed your mind."

Scarlet shook her head, forcing a smile. "No, just running a little late."

"Let's head in," he said, gesturing toward the entrance.

The two of them entered the building together, greeted by a breathtaking display of Tintoretto's masterpieces adorning the walls and ceilings. The grandeur of the artwork was overwhelming, each piece telling a story that felt larger than life.

Ha-neul's eyes widened as he took in the first fresco. "Wow," he murmured. "This is incredible."

Scarlet nodded, her gaze flitting across the intricate details of the paintings. The artistry was undeniable, but her mind kept wandering back to Ha-joon's words from earlier.

"Do you know much about this place?" Ha-neul asked, glancing at her.

"Not really," Scarlet admitted. "I just know Tintoretto was one of the great Venetian painters. His work is supposed to be... dramatic, I guess."

"Dramatic's a good word for it," Ha-neul said, tilting his head as he studied a depiction of a biblical scene. "Everything's so... intense. It's like you can feel the emotions in the paintings."

Scarlet hummed in agreement, though her focus was elsewhere. She found herself glancing at her phone, half-expecting a message from Ha-joon, though she knew it wouldn't come.

"Hey," Ha-neul said, nudging her lightly. "You okay?"

Scarlet blinked, startled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... tired, I guess."

"You sure?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.

Scarlet nodded quickly, forcing another smile. "Yeah, don't worry about me."

As they moved through the gallery, Ha-neul's enthusiasm began to pull Scarlet out of her thoughts. He had a knack for finding humor in the smallest things, like pointing out how one of the angels in a painting looked suspiciously grumpy, or how Tintoretto seemed to have a fascination with overly dramatic poses.

"Look at this guy," Ha-neul said, gesturing to a saint in one of the frescoes. "He looks like he just found out they're out of coffee."

Scarlet couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. "Maybe he's just dramatic," she said, playing along.

"Maybe," Ha-neul agreed, grinning. "But I'm telling you, that's the face of someone who hasn't had caffeine in days."

Their laughter echoed softly in the grand hall, drawing a few amused glances from other visitors. As they continued exploring, Ha-neul suggested taking pictures. "We should take some pictures." scarlet just started at him for an explanation.

"You know, for the memories," he said, holding up his phone.

Scarlet hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure."

They took turns posing in front of the frescoes, Ha-neul's goofy expressions contrasting with Scarlet's more reserved smiles. At one point, he tried to mimic one of Tintoretto's dramatic poses, earning another laugh from Scarlet.

"You're ridiculous," she said, shaking her head.

"Ridiculous but entertaining," Ha-neul said, grinning. Despite the lighthearted moments, Scarlet's mind kept drifting back to Ha-joon. She thought about how he would've reacted to the art, how he might've commented on the history or the technique.

She thought about his laugh, the way it used to light up a room, and the way he had told her she deserved to be happy. She wasn't sure why those words hurt so much. Maybe it was because they felt like a goodbye, like he was pushing her away for good.

"Earth to Scarlet," Ha-neul said, waving a hand in front of her face.

Scarlet blinked, realizing she had been staring at a fresco without really seeing it. "Sorry," she said quickly. "Just... lost in thought."

"Deep thoughts for a deep place," Ha-neul said, though his tone was light. "But seriously, if you need to talk or whatever, I'm here."

Scarlet offered a small smile. "Thanks, but I'm fine. Really."

As the day went on, Scarlet found herself relaxing a little more. Ha-neul's energy was infectious, and his easygoing nature made it hard to stay in her own head for too long. By the time they left the Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Scarlet felt lighter, as if some of the weight on her chest had lifted.

"Thanks for today," she said as they stepped outside. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"No problem," Ha-neul said, smiling. "I'm glad you came. It's always more fun exploring with someone else."

They stood there for a moment, the Venetian sun casting a warm glow over the city. Scarlet still felt the ache of her lingering feelings for Ha-joon, but for the first time in a while, it didn't feel quite so overwhelming. Then they both bid their byes and left to their own ways.

Scarlet decided she needed to indulge herself. After the emotional rollercoaster of the past day, a little luxury and comfort felt like the perfect remedy. Venice had no shortage of renowned restaurants, and after a quick search, she settled on one that was said to be a must-visit: Ristorante Alle Corone, located near the Grand Canal.

As she walked through the winding streets of Venice, the city's charm wrapped itself around her. The sun was beginning to set, casting golden hues over the canals and buildings. Scarlet paused to take a few selfies along the way, capturing the unique beauty of the city as a keepsake.

When she arrived at the restaurant, she was greeted warmly by the staff. The elegant interior, adorned with sparkling chandeliers and beautifully set tables, exuded sophistication. Scarlet felt slightly underdressed in her casual attire, but the friendly smiles of the wait staff reassured her that she was more than welcome.

"Table for one, please," she said, her voice confident despite the flutter of self-consciousness.

"Right this way, signorina," the maître d' said, leading her to a cozy corner table by the window.

Scarlet took her seat, marveling at the view outside. The Grand Canal glimmered under the fading sunlight, the gentle lapping of water against gondolas adding a soothing soundtrack to the evening.

The menu was an array of Venetian specialties, and Scarlet found herself struggling to choose. After much deliberation, she decided on a starter of baccalà mantecato, a creamy codfish dish served with crispy polenta.

For the main course, she opted for bigoli in salsa, a traditional Venetian pasta dish made with anchovies and onions. And, of course, no meal would be complete without dessert. Scarlet chose tiramisu, curious to see how the authentic version compared to the ones she'd had elsewhere.

The first bite of the baccalà mantecato was a revelation. The creamy, savory codfish paired perfectly with the crunch of the polenta, and Scarlet found herself savoring each bite. The bigoli in salsa was equally delightful, the robust flavors of the anchovies and onions dancing on her palate.

By the time the tiramisu arrived, Scarlet was already feeling content, but one taste of the rich, coffee-infused dessert had her closing her eyes in bliss. As she enjoyed her meal, Scarlet allowed herself to truly relax.

The ambiance of the restaurant, the exquisite food, and the soothing view outside created a cocoon of comfort that helped her push aside the lingering thoughts of the day. For a moment, she simply existed, soaking in the experience of being in Venice.

When the waiter brought the check, Scarlet thanked him sincerely. "This was amazing," she said.

"We're glad you enjoyed it," he replied with a warm smile.

Feeling satisfied, Scarlet decided to explore a bit more. The streets of Venice were alive with activity, the air filled with the chatter of tourists and the soft strains of street musicians. Scarlet wandered seamlessly, stopping occasionally to take selfies by charming little bridges or in front of quaint storefronts.

She stumbled upon a small square where a violinist was playing a hauntingly beautiful melody. Scarlet paused to listen, her heart swelling with the emotion in the music. She dropped a few euros into the violinist's case, offering him a grateful smile as she continued on her way.

Soon, Scarlet found herself in front of an ice cream parlor that boasted an impressive array of flavors. The colorful display of gelato was too tempting to resist, so she stepped inside.

"Buonasera! What can I get for you?" the cheerful attendant asked.

Scarlet scanned the options, finally settling on a cone with pistachio, stracciatella, and chocolate chip. The combination was as delightful as it sounded, the creamy sweetness of the pistachio and stracciatella perfectly balanced was balanced by chocolate chip.

She took her cone outside and strolled along the canals as she ate, marveling at how the city seemed to glow under the evening lights. Scarlet snapped more selfies, capturing her ice cream cone in the frame with the picturesque backdrop of Venice behind her.

As she wandered, Scarlet came across a small souvenir shop. She decided to step inside, browsing through the shelves filled with Venetian masks, glass trinkets, and other keepsakes. She picked out a beautifully painted mask for herself and a small, intricately designed glass pendant for her mother.

"This should make up for me not calling her back earlier," Scarlet muttered to herself with a wry smile.

She continued to browse, looking for something to bring back for Ha-joon. Despite everything, she still felt the need to include him in her thoughts. She finally settled on a small, hand-blown glass sculpture of a gondola. It was simple yet elegant, a perfect representation of Venice.

***

Scarlet dragged herself to her hotel room after the long day at Tintoretto Scuola Grande di San Rocco. By the time Scarlet returned to her hotel, she was exhausted but content. She dropped her bag by the door and flopped onto the plush bed, her limbs aching from the endless walking. She placed her shopping bags on the bed and collapsed into a chair, scrolling through the pictures she had taken throughout the evening.

As she looked at the images of the city's beauty and the memories she had created, Scarlet felt a flicker of gratitude. She smiled softly to herself, thinking that perhaps tomorrow would bring even more moments to cherish.

The day had been a blend of moments, awkward laughter with Ha-neul, breathtaking art, and the persistent ache in her chest that wouldn't leave. She closed her eyes, willing her mind to quiet down. Just as her breathing began to steady, her phone vibrated insistently on the nightstand.

Scarlet groaned and reached for it. The name flashing on the screen made her roll her eyes: Christine.

"Of course," she muttered to herself before answering.

"Yes, Christine?" she said, her tone clipped with irritation.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to disturb you," Christine began, her voice rushed, "but I sent you an email with a file that needs your urgent attention. It's really important, or else I wouldn't have called this late."

Scarlet sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Christine, I'm on vacation. I don't understand why it couldn't wait."

"I know, ma'am," Christine said, her voice apologetic but firm. "But it's about the Milan project. The client wanted to finalize the design concept before tomorrow's meeting."

Scarlet groaned inwardly. Of course, it was the Milan project. One of their biggest clients and notoriously demanding. "Fine," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'll check it."

"Thank you, ma'am," Christine said quickly. "I really appreciate it."

Scarlet ended the call and reluctantly got up. Scarlet sighed as she stared at the email on her screen. The attachment from Christine wasn't a typical project update, it was about a dress design for a high-profile fashion client.

Scarlet was a fashion designer, renowned for her attention to detail and bold concepts, and her clients often relied on her personal touch to perfect their looks. This one, however, came at the worst possible time.

Unzipping her laptop sleeve, she set up her workspace on the hotel desk. The room's ambient lighting wasn't ideal, but it would have to do. Scarlet opened the design file Christine had sent and scanned it.

The dress in question was an evening gown meant to debut at a gala in Milan. It was sleek, floor-length, and designed with a minimalist approach. But something about it felt incomplete, too safe for the client's avant-garde style.

Scarlet tapped her fingers on the desk, deep in thought. "This won't do," she muttered. She opened her editing software and got to work.

The first thing Scarlet addressed was the silhouette. The current design featured a traditional mermaid cut, but it lacked drama. She adjusted the digital sketch, adding a more pronounced flare at the hem for a striking fishtail effect. To modernize the look, she incorporated an asymmetrical neckline with a single, sculpted shoulder strap.

Next, she tackled the fabric. The original choice was a plain satin, but Scarlet decided to elevate it with a shimmering fabric that caught the light, something like liquid silver. She added a sheer overlay to the bodice, embroidered with intricate patterns of metallic thread.

To give the gown a focal point, she designed a bold statement piece, a cascading train that flowed from the single shoulder strap. The train would be detachable, offering versatility to the wearer.

Scarlet smiled as she zoomed in on the details, perfecting the embroidery placement. She added tiny crystal embellishments along the neckline and train, ensuring they would sparkle under the gala's lights.

After hours of meticulous adjustments, Scarlet leaned back and admired her work. The gown was no longer just a dress, it was a masterpiece. She imagined the client walking into the gala, heads turning, cameras flashing.

Scarlet saved the updated design and attached it to an email for Christine. Her message was brief but clear:

Scarlet: Christine, here's the revised design. It needed more edge to match the client's bold personality. Let me know if there's any feedback. - Scarlet

She hit send and shut her laptop with a satisfied sigh. As she stretched her arms and let out a long yawn, Scarlet realized how much she missed this feeling. Designing wasn't just her career; it was her passion, her escape. Even though she was supposed to be on vacation, diving back into her work had brought her a sense of comfort.

But as she crawled into bed, her thoughts drifted to other things, Ha-joon's voice from their earlier call, the way he had dismissed her feelings, and the persistent ache in her chest. Despite everything, she still loved him, and no amount of anything could distract her from thoughts.

Staring at the ceiling, Scarlet let out a deep sigh. Tomorrow, she promised herself, it would be different. Tomorrow, she would focus on herself, in Venice, and on rediscovering her happiness. With that, she closed her eyes, the image of her redesigned gown lingering in her mind as sleep finally claimed her.

The shrill sound of her phone ringing jolted Scarlet awake. She groaned, fumbling for her phone on the bedside table. Without checking the caller ID, she pressed it to her ear and mumbled, "Hello?"

"Where are you, Scarlet?"

Scarlet's eyes shot open at the familiar voice. "Ha-Joon?" she asked groggily, sitting up. "Are you drunk? I told you I'm in Venice."

"I'm not drunk," he replied sharply. "Have you lost it?"

Scarlet rolled her eyes and flopped back against the pillows. "Why are you calling me at this hour then? What's so urgent?"

There was a pause on the other end before Ha-Joon spoke again, his tone serious. "You should be here."

Scarlet sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. "Here we go again. Why, Ha-Joon? What's so pressing that you couldn't wait until morning?"

"You have the Milan meeting tomorrow," he said, his words clipped. "And you're in Venice? Do you even realize how important this is?"

Scarlet rubbed her eyes, her exhaustion replaced by irritation. "Don't order me around, Ha-Joon. I'm well aware of my schedule, thank you."

"I'm not ordering you, Red," he said, his voice softening slightly. "I'm just concerned. You've worked too hard to miss this. If you're not there, it won't reflect well, not just on you but on the entire brand."

Scarlet scoffed. "I don't need a lecture, Moon. I planned this trip to take a break, and now you're ruining it."

"Ruining it?" Ha-Joon sounded incredulous. "Scarlet, this isn't just any meeting. It's Milan. The client is expecting you. Do you really want to risk everything for a day in Venice?"

She sat up fully now, the frustration boiling over. "You always do this, Ha-Joon. You think you know what's best for me. Newsflash: I can handle myself."

"And yet you're about to blow off one of the most significant opportunities of your career," he countered, his tone calm but firm. "I'm not trying to control you, Scarlet. I'm trying to make sure you don't regret this."

Scarlet was silent for a moment, biting her lip. His words struck a nerve, not because he was wrong, but because deep down, she knew he was right.

"Why do you even care so much?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with exasperation.

"Because I know how much this means to you," Ha-Joon said softly. "And because I don't want to see you throw it away for a momentary escape."

Scarlet closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. She hated how he always managed to reason with her, even when she didn't want to admit he was right.

"Fine," she said finally, her voice resigned. "I'll come back. But you better not lecture me about this again."

"I won't," Ha-Joon promised, relief evident in his voice. "I've already booked your flight. It leaves in a few hours. Check your email for the details."

Scarlet sighed, annoyed but too tired to argue further. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"I've been told," he said with a hint of amusement. "Just promise me you'll make it on time."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "Don't expect me to thank you for this."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ha-Joon said, a smile in his voice. "Safe travels, Red."

Scarlet hung up and tossed her phone onto the bed, groaning in frustration. "Why does he always have to be so... infuriatingly right?" she muttered to herself.

Dragging herself out of bed, she started packing her things, the annoyance still bubbling inside her. But as much as she hated to admit it, a small part of her was grateful for Ha-Joon's persistence. He might drive her crazy, but he always had her best interests at heart.