All Chapters of What’s Wrong With My Art Coach?: Chapter 11 - Chapter 16

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

“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

“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