CHAPTER VII

Life waits for no one.

Sana had always known this. She learned it in the orphanage, where time moved forward regardless of broken hearts or unspoken words. And now, she felt the truth of it again.

It's now October. Almost three months since the two times she'd gone back to the park, hoping to see him again.

But she knew better now.

He wasn't there. That hurt more than she wanted to admit, but Sana had been through worse. She knew to bury feelings that threatened her peace. She threw herself into her studies, her library job, and most of all, her art.

Her professors noticed. Their praise came freely, even as they piled on critiques meant to push her further. One of them, professor Han, had been so impressed that he offered her the slot for a gallery exhibition when the original artist backed out.

Sana wouldn't have taken it normally, but this time, she needed the distraction. And so, she accepted.

Her exhibition was titled 'Amor Fati', a phrase that resounded deeply with her. The idea of embracing one's fate, of finding beauty in the pain and joy that life brought, felt like an apt summation of her journey.

Her classmates were buzzing about it too, and one, a fellow painter – and friend? named In-a, had made it her mission to drag Sana into the social side of their field.

"You can't just paint in a bubble, Sana." In-a said one afternoon, barging into her campus studio unannounced. "You need to connect with people. That's how you grow as an artist."

Sana gave her a small smile, dabbling at the corner of a canvas. "I thought growth came from practice."

"Practice and exposure," In-a countered, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin. "Come on, there's a get-together tonight. Just a few of us. A place near campus – you know, that cosy café that feels like someone's living room? Perfect vibe. No critique just fun."

"I don't think so-"

"You are going," In-a interrupted. "No arguments. You need this."

The next day, while juggling her thoughts for her upcoming exhibition, Sana was back at the library. One of her favourite places to be, second only to her studio. The quiet hum of the place, the scent of old books, and the soft rustle of pages being turned always calmed her. It was a place where she could wander, where she could be at peace even while surrounded by others.

Mrs. Oh, the head librarian, had been kind to her when she first moved to the city, offering her a part-time job to help cover the expenses her scholarship didn't.

Now, it was less a job and more of a hobby, a comfortable rhythm she had settled into. She liked the routine of it, the familiar faces, and the small conversations she had with the regulars who came here to study. It was a refuge from everything else.

Sana didn't talk much about her other work, but she had taken up freelance web design gigs over the past year. Small businesses and local artists needed websites, and she was good at it. She didn't advertise, but word had gotten out, and now she had a steady stream of clients. The work wasn't flashy, but it allowed her to stay independent, to pay her bills, and to keep her passion for art alive.

Sana stood behind the front desk, sorting through books and re-shelving misplaced ones, when Mrs. Oh approached her with a knowing smile.

"Sana," Mrs. Oh said gently, her voice soft but curious. "You've been working so hard lately, I can see it. You look more tired than usual."

Sana smiled, a genuine one. "I'm just busy with my exhibition. It's been a lot of work."

Mrs. Oh nodded, mirroring her smile. "I see. And how is everything else going? I know you're doing more than just painting."

Sana paused. Mrs. Oh didn't know the specifics of her other job. But it wasn't hard for someone like her to see the subtle signs.

Sana shrugged, not wanting to go into detail. "I'm managing. I take on some web designs to make ends meet. Keeps me busy."

Mrs. Oh smiled widened. "You are always so humble, Sana. I'll definitely come to your exhibition, don't forget to give me a ticket."

"When they are printed, I'll make sure to give you one." Mrs. Oh smile was infectious.

Later that evening, Sana found herself preparing for the get-together In-a had invited her to. She wasn't particularly excited, but she knew she couldn't avoid it forever. As an artist, socialising was part of the deal – even if it felt like a chore.

She stood in front of her closet staring at the assortment of clothes. Sana wasn't one to fuss about her appearance, but tonight. She decided on something simple yet chic: a cream-colored knit sweater that sat slightly off her shoulders, paired with high-waisted black jeans that accentuated her long legs. She added a delicate silver necklace and slipped on ankle boots. Her hair, as usual, was left to fall in loose waves, a casual elegance that she never tried to perfect.

Her beauty wasn't something she worked for. It was just there, effortless, and it was this indifference that gave her a quiet charm. Men looked at her, but she had always been a step removed, keeping them at arm's length, never letting anyone get too close.

But it clearly didn't apply to 'him'.

In-a had been right about one thing – Sana couldn't hide forever, she had to show up.

…

The café was cosy, tucked away on a quiet street near the campus. The atmosphere was warm, with soft lighting casting a relaxed glow over the mismatched furniture. It felt like a home away from home. A place where students gathered to talk about art, life and everything in between.

In-a waved over to a corner table where a few others were already seated. Sana offered a polite smile and sat down. The group was mostly her fellow students, but there were a few other familiar faces from the department.

Conversations started, and for the most part, Sana found herself drifting in and out, offering her thoughts only when asked.

But as the night wore on, she noticed Tae-Hyun – a soft-spoken photography student – was glimpsing at her. His shy glances were hard to miss, and soon, encouraged by his mates, he gathered the courage to speak.

"Sana," he began, his voice hesitant but sincere. "I've really admired you for a long time. Not just as an artist, but…as a person. Would you…would you like to get out sometime?"

Sana felt a rush of awkwardness settle in her chest. Her mind immediately returned to Ji-Hoon – the man that seemed to carry a thousand secrets.

She had no impression of Tae-Hyun. He was kind, but…he wasn't him.

"I don't think this is the right place for this," she said, her voice calm, but with an underlying discomfort she couldn't hide. She was trying to reject him gently, but the truth was, she wasn't interested in Tae-Hyun, and certainly not anyone else.

She glanced away, feeling the heat of all eyes on her. She could almost hear her heart pounding in her ears.

"I'm not looking for anything right now," she continued, her words polite but distant. "I appreciate the compliment, but I don't think…I'm the right person for you."

The words felt cold coming out, but she couldn't help it. In the back of her mind, Ji-Hoon lingered – his name, his smile, his pain. What if he had been the one confessing tonight?

Tae-Hyun waved it off, but Sana could feel the tension of the moment hanging in the air.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The get-together had dissolved into quiet goodbyes and farewells. When she finally returned to her apartment that night, she went directly to her studio, and stood in front of her canvas.

Her brush strokes were guided by thoughts of him – the weight he carried, the pain that was somehow hers to bear.

Looking at the piece that would define her exhibition, her thoughts were swirling. Her hand hovered over it, the brush strokes mirroring her turmoil, her desire to comfort and heal.

She wondered, not for the first time, if Ji-Hoon will ever see it.

If he did, would he understand? Would he know what she meant?

She had poured everything into her art, her emotions, her quiet hope that maybe – just maybe - fate had something different in store for her.