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This was a simple mission.
Lisa's dorm room was like her person. Pure, clean, neat.
The tiny area belonging to her had been clearly separated into the two sections of "life" and "school."
Lisa was a good student.
Irene had known this since long ago —it had been written in the other's "interview" materials and submitted— but she hadn't taken it to heart. She had been a science student. Her entire academic career, her grades had been at the top of her class. She had also skipped years of school. When faced with students of other majors, she always felt a natural sense of superiority that was hard to rationally subdue. She assumed that liberal arts students were those who hadn't been able to get good enough grades to be science students.
However, Lisa had changed this prejudice for her.
Of course, this hadn't happened overnight. She had been slowly and imperceptibly influenced. Almost every time Irene paid attention to Lisa's academics, she would always discover that the other was much more hardworking and assiduous than she had believed. Additionally, she was also much more talented.
Aside from her own major, drawing, she also liked sculptures, especially clay sculptures and installation art. She would often make some small experimental products; as long as good exhibitions were in town, she would definitely visit; aside from art, she also read books regarding literature, technology, philosophy, and lots of other random stuff.
One time, Irene had found out that she was reading 'The Second Sex'. She had jumped in fright and asked the other why she was also reading this type of book.
Lisa had asked, bewildered. Is something wrong?
Irene had scratched her head. Well, nothing's wrong......But I thought that this was a book that only people like my older sister would read.
Irene's older sister was the textbook modern, independent woman. A daring pioneer of feminism.
Lisa had thought about it and said, art is a projection of the real world. To make one's own creations more diverse, one can't not try to understand this world from varying different perspectives. I'm not that perceptive or the type of person who thinks deep thoughts. And, I'm not experienced enough. I can only read a few extra books to try and make up for that.
She seemed to truly believe, from the bottom of her heart, that she was very lacking in talent.
When they occasionally brought up this topic, she would always be embarrassed and panicked.
If not for this, a big name as important as Irene wouldn't be specially taking half a day off in the midst of an extremely busy concerts just to bring her back to pack.
Actually, there wasn't much to pack.
One big sketchbook and one small sketchbook, both frequently used. One's pages were curled because of frequent flipping. This one contained the basics of human anatomy. The other had a few half completed sketches and some other everyday practice sketches.
Irene packed up very quickly. Just as she was about to place them in the bag, her gaze suddenly got attracted to the sketches at the very top.
They were of the human body.
Female.
Fair skin, thin waist, delicate legs, toned abs.
Though they were only sketches, one could still feel the vibrant energy hidden behind the lines. These were full of the power and beauty of female hormones.
Irene cocked an eyebrow.
Drawings of the female body could be found under the glass top of Lisa's desk and taped to the wall in front of the desk. These didn't have heads. Some were purely black and white sketches. There were also a few faintly colored drawings.
Earlier, she had thought that this was normal for an art student, so hadn't paid attention to the drawings. Looking closely at them now, though, she could recognize: they were the same as the sketches in her hand. These bodies all belonged to the same person.
Irene instantly felt so sour that clenched her teeth. She angrily stood in place for a while.
She came up with a way to placate herself: with such a good figure, perhaps this person was a professional model the school had hired. Ultimately, though, she couldn't get over it.
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On the way back, she pretended to be nonchalant as she asked, "You've drawn so many pictures of this woman. Is she your girlfriend?"
"Eh?" Lisa probably hadn't expected Irene to ask this question. She paused for a moment before instantly shaking her head. "No, that's not her."
Irene could tell that she most likely wasn't lying. But if that was the case, why was she blushing? Irene's curiosity was about to be scratched into pieces by the cat.
But seeing the way Lisa only dared to sneak glances at her while hugging her backpack and hiding half of her bright red face behind it, her instinct told her that if she continued inquiring, she might cause the other to feel awkward and troubled. Thus, she couldn't ask any of the questions already in mind.
Additionally, very quickly, Irene could no longer continue to worry about these trivial issues.
Something more serious and urgent had suddenly appeared. It occupied the entirety of her attention, she was having an allergic reaction.
Bae Irene, who believed herself smart, brave, capable of everything, talented at everything, able to retrieve the moon from the sky and good enough to dive into the deepest pools, was actually having an allergic reaction.
After dinner, Lisa discovered red rashes that didn't hurt or itch were sparsely spread out across the other's chest, back, and arms.
Without having to find a doctor, Irene herself could already come to a conclusion upon seeing the location of these rashes: the rashes were mostly likely because the clothes she had worn in the afternoon had contained artificial elements. She had never worn such cheap clothes so close to her skin before. Her skin wasn't used to it. It wasn't a big deal at all.
But Lisa started panicking.
Her eyebrows were knit together. Her eyes were narrowed. Her hands hovered over the affected areas, carefully preparing to touch them but also undaring to touch them. "What's wrong? Why is this happening? Does it itch? Does it hurt? Is it very uncomfortable......"
Irene caught her hands and randomly gave her a reason. Her original intention was to say that this wasn't anything serious and that there was no need to be so panicked.
Who knew that Lisa would get even more agitated after hearing her explanation. "Then it's my fault. What kind of brain do I have? Why did I force you to go. This won't do, we need to immediately call a doctor." As she spoke, she ignored the wound on her knee and rushed to stand up with the intention of finding the butler.
Irene instantly grabbed her around the waist. She trapped the other in her arms. "Don't do any of that."
"But......"
"Not listening anymore?" Irene cocked an eyebrow.
"Nae." Lisa instantly didn't dare to move around or say anything anymore.
"I'm not trying to be aggressive towards you. I'm not mad. However, can you diligently listen to what I have to say?" Irene sighed and rubbed her hair.
Lisa cuddled up to her chest, avoiding the area covered with a red rash, and obediently nodded.
"Look, if you go to tell Yang ahjussi now" —Yang ahjussi was the villa's butler—"Everyone in this house will find out. And then, they'll definitely notify the main abode. My older sister, my older brother, and even my biological mother are going to come check on me. They're each going to bring their own doctor. That'd truly cause a big commotion. It's very likely that no one in this house would get to go to sleep tonight. Yang ahjussi is already past the age of fifty. Jang ahjumma and Yoo ahjumma in the kitchen are already quite old too. You don't even want to bother them normally when you're hungry past dinnertime. Would it be suitable to cause so much trouble for them over such a trivial matter now?"
Irene was purposefully saying this. She knew that Lisa's biggest fear was causing trouble for others.
As expected, after hearing this, Lisa instantly shook her head. "Then don't......" After falling silent for a moment, though, she still couldn't help adding, "But you......"
"We'll secretly call a doctor over. This way, we won't delay getting treatment, but also won't cause a big scene. Good?" Irene gently asked.
Lisa hurriedly nodded.
Irene continued to say, "Then you're going to need to cooperate a bit."
Irene used the excuse that Lisa had accidentally split the wound on her knee during their excursion this afternoon to summon the family doctor she was familiar with.
She personally went downstairs to greet the person. Only after entering the room did she explain the true situation.
The doctor practically exploded on the spot. He forced Irene to take her clothes off for a detailed examination and also tried to confirm the source of the allergy. As soon as he saw the shirt that Irene was holding up, his eyes practically popped out of his head.
"Where did you find this type of trash? Were you trying to do performance art?"
This doctor, Song Mino, was the son of the chief physician at the hospital Irene's family owned. Three generations of their family had all been primary care physicians for the Bae family. Doctor Song was only two years younger than Irene. The two of them had grown up together, so spoke very casually with one another in private.
Since the doctor had walked in, Lisa had curled up in a corner, silent and unmoving. She did her best to lower her presence. Only her bright eyes looked over; her brows were slightly furrowed together. She looked very worried. Upon hearing the doctor's words, her face instantly turned a ghastly pale. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze. Irene saw this out of her periphery. She hurriedly placed the blame all on herself.
"I saw someone wearing it at the company and found it quite interesting, so......"
"Young Miss Bae," Doctor Song looked like he was having a mental breakdown, "Can you please not cause another situation like this for me in the future? I'm very busy with work and trying to make a living is very difficult. If you really find something interesting, please choose something in a similar style and with three extra zeros behind the price. Or, take a picture of it and have Mrs. Lee make an imitation." —Mrs. Lee was the designer who made the Bae family's casual clothes—. "It's fortunate that it isn't this serious this time. I'll prescribe you some medication. If you're not getting better after three days of using it, obediently come to the hospital and find me."
Irene nodded at everything he said.
She threw an arm over the other's shoulders and led him out.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Doctor Song asked, "You weren't actually the one who wanted to wear it, right?"
Irene didn't answer. She smiled in embarrassment.
Doctor Song furrowed his brows. "Irene-ah. Quit being so reckless. Do your mom and sister know?"
"I'm just keeping a sugar baby. They can't control me regarding these matters."
"It doesn't seem like 'just keeping a sugar baby' for you, though?" Doctor Song was very close with her. Previously, he had also heard rumors from their other friends. As soon as he had seen this scene, he had understood in his heart. "Isn't it better to just tell your family early on and set things in stone?"
"Well, she'd have to be willing first."
"Huh? Someone that you, Bae Irene, are interested in would be unwilling?"
"People have their own criteria for selecting significant others. Who made the rule that said someone has to date you because you're rich?"
"But you're beautiful too."
"She already has a girlfriend," Irene had to admit. Her voice was stuffy.
"Fuck." Doctor Song inhaled sharply. "Then how come you're......you......Aish!" Upon noticing Irene's sad expression, he didn't keep speaking.
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