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Parental Guidance 22
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What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? Post-Nut Allergies
Time was irrelevant when it came to Min-a. However, the one thing that was undeniably real was the killer headache and slight nausea plaguing him. Still, he convinced himself that if he slept through everything, you know- “out of sight, out of mind,” then he wouldn't have to deal with reality. He imagined he was under his bedsheets, the warm yellow glow in his room enshrouding him. But that fantasy didn't even solidify into a real delusion when a loud noise rang right beside his head. Min-a swore he had an Aneurysm because his head almost exploded from the sudden blood rush to his head.He waited for the blue bird song from an Intro in Naruto to exhaust itself before he took a deep breath, switching from his side to face his pillow face first. Min-a spoke with his voice muffled into the pillow, “I promise you, old man, that deathwish you are dearly searching for, I'll hand it to you, free of charge.” So much venom filled his tone that it could have scorched t
What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? Pretty But Bitter
When Min-a got back home, he found out that his father had traveled for a business conference with some overseas partners. Eun Hye was also nowhere to be found, which meant he had the whole house to himself.Min-a did have his own apartment up in Seoul but he only used it when work became hectic or when he needed his space and peace. Most times, both reasons happen simultaneously causing him to dump his family home and stay in his pretty comfortable penthouse. His apartment had a pretty good view of the best parts of the overpopulated city. It reminded him once again how lucky he was to be hanging in the sky with a full pocket and strong savings while others on the ground had to grovel from one bad-paying job to the other. You might be wondering why Min-a was feeling lucky now, well, that's what happens when you cross the top activity on your blacklist.But not only did Min-a cross it, but he also did it twice. Oh yes. He was actually a student...kind of. He attende
What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? Hiding In Plain Sight
“My agency…” Min-a lied, “they’re probably wondering about the whole picture thing.” He sounded unbothered, putting the phone on silent. He couldn't deal with Seung-ho right now, not when the conversation was just beginning to shift away from him. “You should talk to them, explain that it's not what they think. The earlier you tackle the issue, the sooner you clear it up, the fewer people will think anything about it,” Ji-ho suggested. Her concern alarmed Min-a more than it should have. “I have nothing to hide, Ji-ho. It’s just a silly media attempt to find something to say about me. You know I'm plain and have nothing to hide,” he shrugged. “Maybe she’s right…” Min-a thought to himself as the conversation shifted away from him again. He had zoned out from whatever they were saying. He knew seeing Seung-ho right now would be the worst decision he could ever make because more eyes were going to be on him than usual. Impulsively rising to his feet, Min-a announced hi
What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? Till The Devil Had To Find Him
They walked back to meet Seung-ho. His face lit up again seeing Min-a come back with his manager with a smile on his face, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He knew this because he had spent the last 24 hours healthily obsessing over every single project Seo Min-a had worked on ever since he came into the limelight at 16 years of age. He frowned slightly as he explored his face. Min-a had mastered the art of smiling with his eyes. As an artist, Seung-ho knew how to fake the eye smile so he knew when it was real. And right now, the smile his student had on was definitely fake. It didn’t stop him from playing along though. “Hey! Are you okay?” Seung-ho asked cheerfully, giving Min-a a short-lived hug. He felt him stiffen a second before letting go and returning the hug. “Hello, Mr. Kwan. I wasn't expecting you here.” Min-a chuckled, staring into his icy blue eyes directly. Something about his intense gaze made Seung-ho nervous for the first time. He didn't kno
What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? Too Close To Breathe
“And… It will get better.” Myung-Dae drummed his fingers rapidly on his glass table. “Oh fuck,” Min-a thought to himself. “Mr. Kwan Seung-ho got 1M likes when he shared the pictures. His manager also thought it would be a good idea that we collaborated on both talents and did a shoot of you both. Together..” Myung-Dae stood from his chair, kicking it sideways excitedly. Min-a stared at him in disbelief, turning to stare at Seung-ho to see his reaction, but the older man was having a good time tapping off the infectious excited energy that Myung-Dae exuded. “Imagine,” Myung-Dae went to the sealed glass window behind him, stretching his hands out like he was about to pitch a billion-won deal. “You, the young talented, and hot-” “Super hot.” Seung-ho corrected and Myung-Dae gave him an appreciative smile, clapping his hands eagerly. “Super hot, Korea’s number one bad boy, Seo Min-a, is now a talented artist. Then Kwan Seung-ho, the mysterious infamous artist who has always a
What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? A Little Favor
Traffic in Seoul could be hell sometimes. It was something even the filthy rich couldn’t avoid, and that was the reason Seo Eun Hye was taking her business calls right there in the middle of the stagnant highway in her Tesla. It was about 6 pm but the sun looked like it wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. It was the time when all good-paying jobs closed but she wasn’t coming from a job. She was going to the company her parents entrusted to her while they dealt with the invincible workload. Eun Hye let out another frustrated sigh, banging her head on the steering wheel of the electric car before looking at her map status. She was nowhere close to her destination. Her car suddenly became filled with the intro to Euphoria by Jungkook. It has been her ringing tone ever since the masterpiece was released. It was her assistant, Heidi, who was calling. Eun Hye snatched the phone from the holder and picked up the call with lightning speed. “Heidi, tell me some
What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? Who Did He Think He WAS?
Min-a felt a chill run down his spine as he recalled eating a particular Mrs. Yuan's coochie because his older sister needed him to convince the old lady to invest in her last project. “What? That was a good one. You get to fuck Mrs. Yuan! Wasn’t it like a great time for you too?” Eun Hye frowned, appearing extremely confused. She thought he had enjoyed the arrangement since he loved abomination affairs. Min-a swallowed hard before walking away. His silence troubled his older sister. “Did she do anything else to you?” Eun Hye’s worried voice brought Min-a to his senses. He realized he was being too sensitive. “Nope, aside from biting my balls a bit too hard?” he wiggled his brows, winking at his older sister because he knew she would be disgusted, and hopefully, that would get her to leave him alone. But it didn’t work. “I didn’t need to know that. Look, it’s different this time. Kwan Seung-ho is like those ethical artists. He came from nothing and now is some top-rate
What’s Wrong With My Art Coach? A Win Is A Win
The weekend lazy haze didn’t spare Min-a. He found himself sprawled out on the sidewalk of the Yongsan-gu neighborhood. He opted for morning jogging since he felt too tired to lift any weights in his private gym. But he barely ran over 10 km before feeling exhaustion crippling him. His white T-shirt stuck to his body and his black shorts were showing the print of his cock, so he had to call it a day and walked the way home. He had a private door from the side of the house that led him directly to his room but his stomach churning sent him through the main door for some warm breakfast. Only, he met a not-so-expected st waiting at their gate in a well-tailored suit. “He actually fell for it…” Min-a thought to himself in disbelief. “Mr. Kwan, you showed up,” he announced his presence, startling the older man. Seung-ho snapped around to look at Min-a with a neutral expression on his face. His eyes lingered on his broad chest and lean legs that his clothes didn
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