Skool Luv Affair

Chapter 18

Chae Seon Ra

I quickly make my way to the lyricism workshop room. I am so excited and nervous at the same time!!!

I even dressed up better than usual because I dress to impress. The way you present yourself is the first thing anyone notices about you.

I find an empty seat and arrange my stuff, books and all, on the desk.

Soon, our instructor enters. He is an old man, probably in his fifties. He looks all professional in his blue suit and golden rimmed glasses. His hair is black with specks of white giving it a salty appearance.

"Hello everyone. I am Mr. Choi. I will be teaching you some basics of lyricism. But before that, I am giving you a topic to write a composition on. Feel the topic and write something in half an hour. The topic is the color red. Your time starts now.", he says.

Red. I can write about anger, love, hate and so many more things.

So, I am going to write about blood. When someone sees a person lying in a pool of blood in the center of a snowfield. I am going to capture that fear and panic, turn it into beautiful string of words. Something absolutely terrifying but oddly beautiful. Beautiful as in, imagine a white field of snow with just a single red rose blooming. Something like that. I know it is weird but I have to be unique.

I finish my piece within half the time. I am pretty impressed. It turned out exactly like I imagined. This may be one my best works ever. I take a picture to copy it down again in my notebook.

"Times up everyone. Let me have a look.", says our teacher.

He reads two words and proceeds to the next without even a glance. Just takes their sheet, reads two words and throws it into the air. I am so terrified. This guy is downright scary.

He keeps muttering "you all should just give up this career path".

He did like some of those. He just nodded which I assume meant that it wasn't that bad. I really hope I get a nod too. I am so petrified.

He finally makes his way towards me.

He reads the entire thing. Is this a good thing?

I know its not as soon as he starts to tear my work. Into pieces. Tiny pieces.

"What crap did you write? This is such a weird topic. Why couldn't you just stick to the basics like love and hate? Standing out is never a good thing. People don't like such stuff.", he shouts as if my writing is the most disgusting thing he has ever touched.

"Everyone is dispersed now. I want you all to go around the library, read some famous compositions and next time perform better. Got it?", he says.

"Yes sir!", everyone says.

I am still shocked to process anything. It literally seems like my world is crashing down. Did I choose the wrong career? Should I do something else? But this is the only thing I am passionate about.

I don't know what to do as tears start brimming in my eyes. Was it really that bad?

I don't know but somehow, I ended up in the corridor.

"Move loser!", says a guy from my workshop.

How dare he.

I root myself in my spot.

"What did you say?", I ask with a threatening tone.

"MOVE LOSER. Are you deaf too besides sucking at writing?", he says laughing.

I have absolutely nothing to say to this. So, I just move aside.

He continues on his way laughing.