glass | gyuricky

two.

september.

Gyuvin was a little late to his first class on the first day of his senior year, as he'd been for almost every day of the past three. He vaguely registered someone behind the teachers' table as he shouldered the classroom door open and slipped in, and he got a nudge on the back from the person sitting behind him as he slung his bag onto the back of the seat.

"New teacher," Gunwook said, gesturing to the front of the classroom.

"Oh?"

Their local high school's art program didn't have many students. The school, as a matter of fact, didn't have that many students either; hardly two hundred kids every academic year. The enrollment numbers were average for a small town like theirs, but compared to a city high school like Gyuvin had been in for the first couple of years of elementary school, their numbers paled in comparison.

There were twelve kids in the art program, Gyuvin and Gunwook included. Gyuvin glanced towards the front of the class; the person in the chair was looking down at something, a slip of paper in his hand.

A new teacher was a big change. Their old art teacher had been a kind elderly woman who'd studied art in America and been a painter all her life. She was brilliantly talented and the class loved her, but since painting wasn't really the art medium Gyuvin had the most interest in, her involvement in his projects had been minimal. He wonders if this new teacher was a painter too. He wonders why most art teachers are painters, actually. Doesn't anyone ever do anything else nowadays?

"My name is Ricky Shen." The person behind the teachers' table stood up. He was dressed in a pressed black shirt and slacks, dark hair falling into his eyes as he looked up. "Please call me anything you want. I don't really care about formalities. I studied sculpture with a specialization in glasswork in university, but I've been a painter my entire life. Feel free to ask me any questions, if you have them."

One of the girls on the other side of the room raised her hand. "How old are you?"

He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not those kinds of questions. But, since you asked, I'm twenty-four." His features were delicate like an angel's; his shirt fell over broad shoulders and it was tucked just enough that Gyuvin could see how flat his stomach was when he turned. It wasn't really a surprise the girls were already all over him.

"Twenty-four? When did you graduate?"

"Three years ago," he answered, still smiling. "If you don't have any actual questions for me, then I'll get the class started. I understand you're all supposed to have worked on a concept draft for your final project over the summer holidays. I'll be coming round to talk to each one of you individually to hear about your ideas, but in the meantime please continue working on it."

"Dude, how's your draft coming along?" Gunwook asks, leaning over his table so he can talk to Gyuvin easier. "Did you even do it?"

Gyuvin shrugs. "Not really. When do I ever do drafts, though?"

"That's right, you're too good for draftwork," Gunwook retorts, rolling his eyes. "So much for making a good impression on the new teacher."

"I'll leave that to the girls," Gyuvin says, pulling his sketchbook from his bag. "Wouldn't want to get in their way, and all."

"As if you don't think he's cute."

"Yeah, whatever. Work on your draft, nerd."

The new teacher got to his table about twenty minutes later. Gyuvin straightened up in his seat from where he'd been slumping with his feet up, out of instinct, but he didn't move to open his sketchbook. "Hey."

"Hey. And your name is...?" he trails off.

"Kim Gyuvin," Gyuvin answered.

"Alright, Kim Gyuvin." The new teacher leaned slightly over his desk, hands supporting him on the edge of the table. "What are you thinking of doing for your final project?"

"I don't have a draft," Gyuvin said. "But I wanna specialize in sculpture in university, so something to do with that."

"Sculpture, huh?" he answered, grinning. "I'm your man, then. Have you thought about which medium you want to sculpt with? Clay, stone, wood, metal even?"

"Clay," Gyuvin said, somewhat definitively. "I'm not familiar enough with other mediums to take a risk. And I already sort of know what I want it to look like."

"Okay so you do have an idea. Describe it to me."

"I said sort of," Gyuvin protested. "Something to do with angels. I haven't really figured out what exactly."

Ricky smiled, straightening back up. "Well, you have the rest of the year to work on it. About the mediums, I'd be happy to guide you if you'd like to try out something you're unfamiliar with, but the choice is yours if you feel like sticking with clay at the end of the day. Keep working on your concept draft, okay? I'm looking forward to seeing it."

He turned and left, attending to another student, and Gyuvin flipped open his sketchbook, almost without thinking.

"He's got you working on a draft for once, huh?" Gunwook remarks from behind him. "I wonder what he said that changed your mind."

Gyuvin balls up a piece of scrap paper and throws it behind him in response, but he picks up his pencil and begins tracing the outline of an angel wing on the empty page.