Pointing to the empty seat of Dongha, who was rarely absent, I asked about his whereabouts and received a quick reply.
After calling him a crazy guy in three light words for not being here, I returned to my seat just in time for the ringing class bell.
The first class was Home Economics.
The teacher entered the classroom a little while after the bell rang and called the roll in order. After knocking the corners of the books against the desk to get attention, the teacher looked around the classroom and said:
“There are quite a few missing here too?”
This meant that a situation similar to ours was happening in the teacher’s class as well.
It turned out that not only Dongha but also a few students who used travel as an excuse were absent.
In our class alone, there were about three fewer students than usual.
Still, it was better than unexcused absences; these were absences due to trips…
Thus, most students were skipping class for extracurricular trips that didn’t exist in the past.
As it turned out, two students from Class 8 of the Home Economics teacher were also absent for the same reason…
And for some reason, three people were unwell today.
One person absent without any reason, and although the reasons for the others varied, their destination was undoubtedly Busan.
The teacher, feeling a sense of helplessness from the empty spots in the classroom, let out a deep sigh with a peculiar expression while drooping the corners of her mouth.
“Ugh, what’s with this magical girl thing? Back in our day, we didn’t skip class just to see famous singers or celebrities, did we?”
Then, as if bringing old experiences to the present with an attitude that implied “These days, kids…”, a student in the front row who liked to stand out raised his hand and said:
“Teacher, back then if you skipped class, you’d get hit, right?”
“That’s right, with a stick this thick…”
His rebuttal was not wrong, and the teacher illustrated the length and thickness of the stick from memory with exaggerated gestures, swinging her hand in the air.
Students laughed, reminiscent of the audience laughter in a comedy program, after successfully eliciting a laugh.
Once the laughter settled, the teacher gazed at the book as if speaking to the absent students, muttering:
“The world has really changed; skipping school just because you’re going on a trip…”
‘Indeed.’
After silently agreeing with the teacher’s lament, the class continued with a lesson on how much energy protein, fat, and carbohydrates supply per gram in calories.
The rote learning hours passed in order, and lunchtime arrived without incident.
As our first-year students headed to the cafeteria, for some reason, the second and third years were leaving the school with their bags.
If it was just one or two leaving, I would have thought it was just the second and third-year students playing around and skipping school after lunch, but everyone was coming down the stairs heading home.
Come to think of it, was today the day of the midterm exams?
“They’re going home already; I’m so jealous.”
“Aren’t the second and third years having their midterms?”
“Yeah, that’s why it was quiet during the break.”
Midterms, a type of academic evaluation held in early to mid-May.
As the first-year middle school students, this marked our last chance to avoid taking the midterms and finals.
In truth, it was just that they wouldn’t be assigned at school; for those who attended academies or had parents with exceptional educational fervor, it was indeed a busy time.
After lunch and a quick stop by the bathroom, we returned to class with plenty of break time left.
Students who study hard showed a clear difference during this time.
Sitting one desk back and one desk over from me, Hayoon was also engrossed in writing something in her notebook.
Since she mentioned that math was hard, I wondered if she was studying that, but when I peeked over…
There were hastily written numbers and some celebrity names.
“Whew, I can probably buy photo cards with this—”
Upon confirming that, Hayoon’s relieved voice burst out.
Canceling my previous thought, it was clear that she was not the type to study diligently.
With a grim expression, I didn’t say anything and subtly leaned my head back in the chair next to me.
Hayoon, who finally raised her head, looked at my forlorn expression and said:
“Mary, aren’t you collecting photo cards?”
“…Photo cards?”
“Not drinks, photo cards.”
At the two-character clue, a drink name suddenly popped into my mind.
Do they abbreviate it like that nowadays? With no doubt, I said the word out loud, only to receive a light denial in response.
I realized how old I was for thinking of it as ‘photo cards’ before the abbreviation became longer.
“It’s a waste of money.”
“You sound just like my dad.”
Feeling a bit irritated at her comparing me to her dad, I thought I might as well ask how much they cost.
“How much? Those photo cards.”
“For the group I like, it’s seventeen thousand won each.”
‘Seventeen thousand…?’
Given the price for cards that were basically traffic cards with idols’ faces, I couldn’t understand that ridiculous price compared to a regular chickens price, thinking ‘What the hell is this absurdity,’ but I kept grimacing.
Considering how to phrase my concern in a way that would hurt the least, I came out with a short sentence.
“Why spend that much money on that?”
“It’s super cheap; photo cards you can win go for like thirteen hundred thousand won!”
‘What the actual hell.’
As she said it was cheap while skipping the tens of thousands and moving straight into the hundreds, I cursed inwardly.
With that amount, damn… you could buy a computer graphics card, right?
The deeper I listened, the more I felt like I was peering into a deep abyss.
Though it’s true that the industry thrives on fan loyalty, isn’t this just a business that slaps fans on the back of the head to force them to spit out money?
“What are you talking about?”
Taking advantage of the absence of my partner Seohyun, Shiyeon walked in straight to the seat next to us and asked Hayoon.
Shiyeon seemed to be adapting well to school life, as she was gradually making friends unnoticed.
“We’re talking about photo cards. Shiyeon, you don’t collect them either?”
“Yeah.”
‘Phew.’
A sigh of relief escaped me as Shiyeon’s answer was immediate, showing she had no interest in such things.
It’s a relief she doesn’t have a hobby of collecting things like that.
Thinking about it, there was hardly any money spent on hobbies at my home.
If I had to pick a common expenditure, it would definitely be spent on food.
Of course, recently, expenses for tablets and academy fees had increased, but…
“There’s a kid in the next class who reportedly resold his collected photo cards for five hundred thousand won!”
Photo card reselling, a momentary barrage of Young and MZ terms.
Hayoon was praising an acquaintance from the next class, claiming that photo cards are money.
Five hundred thousand won might have impressed us when we were fourteen and hadn’t made a dime, but…
Now, the two girls in front of Hayoon were in the top 0.1% of high-income earners, receiving five to six hundred thousand won monthly.
Neither Shiyeon nor I reacted avidly; we simply listened without much enthusiasm.
Moreover, after translating what I just heard into our own words, I casually said:
“…So, it’s reselling?”
“Reselling! You shouldn’t call it that.”
Hayoon reacted sharply when I called it reselling.
“Reselling” was the term coined by scalpers eager to create a better image for themselves, rather than calling themselves ‘resellers’.
Seriously, just a bunch of scumbags buying low and selling high.
In any case, the conclusion of my conversation with Hayoon, who was pouring her allowance into either photo cards or traffic cards.
“So, you can eventually resell them?”
“Yeah! You can get back what you paid for! You can even sell them for more!”
Hayoon was spreading a theory like some hopeful stock market advice.
It was a simple thought, yet it gave me a sad expression.
“Yeah, I see…”
Do you think that idol is going to last forever?
Who would buy cards collected by students?
If there’s a scandal involving drunk driving, those idol cards won’t sell.
If you’re obsessed with an idol to the point of reselling cards, how many others are thinking the same way?
Do you really believe you’ll get back exactly what you paid?
Swallowing numerous wicked thoughts swirling in my head, I simply nodded along with “Yeah, I see.”
At the height of being a student, it’s easy to get carried away with idols and celebrities.
It was clear nothing I said now would resonate with them.
Since our communication wouldn’t connect, I didn’t feel confident enough to win out in the discussion anyway.
If they enjoy it, there’s no reason to pour cold water on their excitement.
“How about you, Shiyeon? Let’s collect cards of the oppas together!”
“Don’t do that.”
I was caught off guard; I quickly shot back at Hayoon, saying it wouldn’t work on me.
Unlike Hayoon, Shiyeon had the financial ability to collect those cards worth one hundred fifty to one hundred seventy thousand won.
