I’m Too Lazy To Run away - Side Chapter 25

The rumor that Yang Tae-Yang would be a croquis model spread across the entire campus in an instant. Even just the rumor alone stirred up the campus, to the point that even humanities students with nothing to do with it were peeking around the art building.

On the day of the croquis session, the lecture hall—normally meant to be quiet—was buzzing. It was because of the crowd gathered both inside and outside the room. Even the professor looked flustered, having not expected this much chaos over a croquis model.

Even though three departments had gathered, it was the first time there were so many people that it was hard to even set up easels. Splitting the class into two sessions had been a reasonable decision, but giving that choice to the students had been a mistake.

Everyone chose the first day—the one where Yang Tae-Yang would be modeling.

“What is this, a marketplace or something?”

“Hey, move over a bit.”

“Where am I supposed to move? Can’t you see my easel is already tilted?”

Some students even started complaining.

The professor had originally planned to wrap it up in short intervals of around five minutes, repeated several times, but decided it would be safer to end it quickly. Even so, he had a bad feeling that this croquis class was already ruined.

“Focus. We’ll go fast—one minute per pose.”

The students were flustered, and the murmuring only grew louder. Just as the professor was about to call them out—

Yang Tae-Yang walked slowly into the center of the room, and the atmosphere fell silent as if swept away by a wave.

When Tae-Yang took off his robe, his upper body was revealed. It drew unavoidable attention, but he ignored it and scanned the room with his eyes.

‘He’s not here.’

Then there was no point in modeling.

Tae-Yang changed poses every minute, searching for Do-Yoon. But Do-Yoon was nowhere to be seen. The students tried to focus on drawing, but whenever they snapped back to reality, Tae-Yang had already taken a new pose. They would get distracted again, and another minute would pass—over and over.

Meanwhile, Do-Yoon sat in the farthest, most secluded corner in the back, quickly sketching Tae-Yang’s back. With such short time limits, he started by capturing the silhouette. He didn’t need many lines—just minimal strokes to capture the rhythm of the human body.

The croquis he produced had sharp, light lines, yet fully captured the model’s essence, creating a living form.

While the other students failed to properly complete their drawings because they were too busy staring at the model, Do-Yoon’s sketches were clean and precise, with no unnecessary strokes.

After submitting his work to the assistant professor, Kim Do-Yoon quietly left the lecture hall.

No one— not even Yang Tae-Yang—knew he had been there.

Just as the professor expected, the first day of croquis was a disaster.

Only a handful of students had completed proper drawings. With more than half producing work too poor to even grade, the professor had no choice but to ask Tae-Yang to model again.

But Tae-Yang welcomed the suggestion.

Because he hadn’t been able to find Do-Yoon on the first day.

This time, he was determined to find him. He scanned the room diligently—but the result was the same.

The professor had announced that students who had done well on the first day didn’t need to come back.

And Tae-Yang didn’t know that.

***

“That’s him, right? The Tae-Yang from sculpture?”

“Yeah, the one who sculpts both assignments and his own face.”

“His vibe is insane.”

It was a cheesy nickname Park Dae-Seop had made as a joke, but people actually agreed with it.

To others, Tae-Yang might have looked melancholic, but in reality, he was excitedly thinking about what to eat with Do-Yoon for lunch.

At the same time, he felt a bit disappointed.

Aside from lunch, all he could do was wait at Do-Yoon’s part-time job, walk him home, or match his late-night work schedule.

‘That damn part-time job.’

He hadn’t expected Do-Yoon to be doing mural work on top of working at a café. How a first-year student managed to take on work even experienced artists struggled with was beyond him.

Before, they met once a week under the excuse of assignments. But after Do-Yoon took on mural work, Tae-Yang couldn’t push someone already struggling just to keep up.

‘Why is this so hard?’

Why was meeting someone this difficult? Just because the other person didn’t have time?

Should he make him quit his part-time job? But what right did he have to stop him?

‘I can’t replace his income… wait.’

A thought struck him.

‘Right. I can just pay him instead.’

Whether café work or mural work, it was all for money. So he could just give him that money—in exchange for Do-Yoon spending time with him.

It was a strange realization—being glad he had more money than he could spend.

“Hey sunshine, be honest with me.”

Park Dae-Seop suddenly asked.

“Are you seeing someone these days?”

“What nonsense are you talking about now?”

Tae-Yang shot him a look.

“You grin at your phone, randomly run off, and those snacks you bought—who’d you give them to? You say you’re working late, but you’re not even in the studio.”

When Do-Yoon replied to his messages, Tae-Yang smiled. When he ran off, it was to chase after Do-Yoon passing nearby. The snacks were all for him, and he wasn’t in the sculpture studio because he was with Do-Yoon in the painting department.

But explaining all that was too much trouble.

“Mind your own business. It’s not like that.”

“Painting department, right? Who is it?”

“I said it’s not like that.”

“Not like that?”

“I’m just taking care of him.”

Isn’t that exactly what a fling is? Wanting to take care of someone, being drawn to them, trying all sorts of things just to get closer.

Dae-Seop was confused.

‘This guy… don’t tell me…’

There were only two possibilities. Either Tae-Yang was in love, or he was too dense to even realize it.

Dae-Seop covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

Watching his friend mess up like this was going to be entertaining.

“Hahaha, yeah, sure! Definitely not a fling!”

Tae-Yang felt oddly annoyed at his laughter.

Just then, someone approached them.

“Hello, sunbae.”

It was a groupmate from their class—Choi Won-Jun.

‘Was it… film and theater, first year?’

The person he actually wanted to see—Kim Do-Yoon—was nowhere in sight.

“Yeah, you’re taking this class too?”

“Yes! I heard you modeled at the museum last time. I’m thinking of trying it next semester too.”

“Go for it. You’ll do well.”

“Sunbae, you must get a lot of offers from entertainment agencies, right?”

“I’m not interested in that.”

“Wow, you didn’t say you don’t get offers.”

Instead of leaving after a quick greeting, Won-Jun kept talking. Soon, others gathered too, creating a familiar but exhausting situation.

Noticing Won-Jun’s subtle jealousy, Dae-Seop stepped in.

“Our sunshine here? The moment he steps outside, his pockets are stuffed with business cards. One every two steps. Didn’t Director Jo Hoon-Seok personally come looking for you last time?”

“!!!”

Director Jo Hoon-Seok—a legend with multiple international awards.

Tae-Yang frowned at Dae-Seop’s exaggeration.

“That was ages ago. Drop it.”

“That was last month. And didn’t they contact you again last week about their new project?”

As others reacted with admiration, Won-Jun failed to hide his expression—his face stiffened.