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Phantom was exhibiting about 120 works at this art fair.
Without a moment to admire the splendid view and interior of the hotel room, which overlooked Victoria Harbour and Tsim Sha Tsui, we headed straight for the exhibition hall. We started by unwrapping the bubble wrap that tightly encased the 120-odd paintings.
We couldn’t just rip it off any which way, since we had to use the same bubble wrap to repack the works after the exhibition. The task of all five of us carefully unwrapping the multiple layers of bubble wrap all night could have been tedious, but perhaps because of a light excitement, I felt neither boredom nor physical exhaustion. And compared to packing, unwrapping was a simple task.
He had left right after dropping us off to meet with gallery associates from other cities he knew. The Director was scheduled to finish up work for Phantom in Seoul and arrive here three or four hours later than us, so the display was left to the three of us.
In five hours, the preview opening event for VIPs was scheduled to begin. We had to finish the display before then, return to the hotel to get ready, and come back. It wasn’t a generous schedule, but by now, we were fairly confident in our working rhythm.
Yuni was in charge of unwrapping, and Juhan was in charge of displaying the unwrapped works. I went back and forth between them, lending a hand wherever it was needed.
“Ugh… I can’t stand them, seriously.”
As I handed the thirty-second piece from Yuni to Juhan, he glared at the booth across from us over my shoulder. I glanced back, and… well, their situation was quite different from ours.
Unlike our side, where unwrapped bubble wrap and still-packaged artworks cluttered the entire booth, the staff at the opposite booth were chatting and displaying their works at a very leisurely pace. At a glance, they had only brought about thirty pieces, so there was no need for them to hurry.
“Their works sell well for a good price in their own country, so they don’t need to go through the trouble of paying for airfare, shipping, and staff travel expenses to lug a ton of art all the way out here. And they probably brought expensive pieces that will make their money back and then some even if they only sell a few.”
Yuni said, unwrapping a piece with skillful hands. Her explanation continued.
“Compared to the small and mid-sized galleries in Korea, we’re lucky to even be able to participate in overseas art fairs. We’ll probably have to suffer like this, bringing over a hundred pieces, for a few more years. But just you watch. One day, I’m going to come with just twenty pieces, hang them up in a flash, and go out for noodles at Kau Kee.”
Though she seemed calm, she must have felt a sense of rivalry toward them too, as she even stopped unwrapping to raise a fist in the air. If Yuni said she would do it, it felt like she really would.
“For all we know, they’re probably sleeping in some tiny business hotel, suffering from the noise of Chinese tourists. We’re probably the only staff in this entire venue who came from the airport in a Phantom and are staying in single rooms at the F Hotel. Even the big galleries like Perrotin or Gagosian probably don’t do this much for their staff. In a way, we’re the winners.”
I carefully lifted the next piece, freshly freed from its bubble wrap, and moved it toward Juhan. After hanging the painting in its designated spot on the diagram we had prepared, Juhan crossed off number 33 on the list.
“That car from earlier… its name is Phantom?”
I asked casually while helping Yuni peel the tape off the bubble wrap. Without stopping her hands, she glanced up at me and grinned.
“Yeah, funny, right? I don’t know if the car Phantom came first or the gallery Phantom came first, but I guess that’s the CEO’s taste. I think he has three or four cars, all Phantom models. The one in Seoul is a Ghost, which is like a baby Phantom, but to call it a baby… it’s bigger than most full-sized luxury sedans. It’s cheaper than a Phantom, but it still costs over 400 million won, so I guess you could call it a giant baby?”
Handing me the thirty-fourth piece, Yuni added.
“The way I see it, what’s important to the CEO isn’t the price or fame of those cars. It’s the names. Phantom, Ghost… they’re all spirits, aren’t they?”
Phantom Gallery.
When I recalled his slate-blue eyes, which looked as if they might break apart like seafoam, and his indifferent, detached air, it was, in fact, a very fitting name. I had never thought about what reason there might be behind it, but his psychology of obsessing over the meaning of ‘ghost’—to the point of collecting expensive cars named Phantom and Ghost—didn’t seem like a simple collector’s quirk.
But seeing as Yuni and Juhan didn’t know the full story either, it was clear that even if I asked, he would just shrug and change the subject.
“It seems you used to stay at the CEO’s apartment when you came to Hong Kong on business until now.”
It seemed like a good time to ask the question that had been on my mind since the car ride to the hotel.
Juhan, who had just crossed off piece number 34, put the cap back on the pen he’d been holding in his mouth and answered.
“Yeah, we did. This is our first time staying at a hotel. The CEO has an apartment below Victoria Peak. It’s on a hill and it’s a high-rise, so the view is to die for. He also owns a mansion with a swimming pool not too far from there. That house is probably being rented out? I think some famous bank here rented it for their employees or something.”
As if asking for more details, Juhan looked down at Yuni, and she continued.
“They use it as company-provided housing for high-level talent they bring in from abroad. The monthly rent is something like 20 million won, and the company pays for it. Just how much profit does that one person generate for them to hire someone while covering those costs? Well, it’s a whole different world that has nothing to do with us.”
The story of the high-level talent whose rent of tens of millions of won was paid by their company was one thing, but the CEO, who as the owner of that house was earning tens of millions of won a month in rental income, was also someone from a completely different world to me. The fact that I knew him, that he was within the sphere of my life, made it feel even more so.
Liu Wai-Kwan.
From his name alone, I knew from the start that his nationality was Hong Kong. Through conversations with the Director, Juhan, and Yuni, I also knew that one of his parents was Korean, making him a quarter-blood. I knew the city he was born and raised in wasn’t Seoul, but this was the first I was hearing that he was wealthy enough to own that much property in Hong Kong.
Based on what he had said in the car on the way to the hotel just a while ago, the source of his wealth in Hong Kong seemed to be mostly inheritance. He was clearly not from an ordinary family.
“I don’t think it’s the CEO’s personally, but his family’s. They also have a house in Repulse Bay, a super-rich neighborhood by the sea. It’s a vacation home, and last year, we all hung out there for about three days after the art fair as a vacation. Ah… it was so nice.”
Juhan gazed into the air with a wistful look, like an old man reminiscing about the good old days that had passed.
The richest person I had actually known was Morae’s father, Mr. Lim. Even the several billion won Mr. Lim was said to earn in a year was a number that didn’t feel real to me. It was impossible for someone like me to realistically grasp the scale of his wealth.
“What does all this mean?”
Yuni suddenly stopped her hands and drew our attention to her. Her own answer followed her question.
“It means that for the CEO, Phantom isn’t a matter of survival, but a matter of self-proof.”
“……”
“The real estate the CEO owns, that’s not all of it. The house and gallery in Seoul are his too, but that’s not even a big deal. As far as we know, he owns mansions in South Kensington, London, and the Upper East Side, New York, and he might have even more properties for investment purposes. So, he didn’t start Phantom to make a living.”
Handing me the thirty-fifth piece, Yuni stood up for a moment and lightly stretched her legs and back, which were stiff from crouching for so long.
“In Seoul, he’s a self-made golden alpha who rose from the bottom on his own. But in Hong Kong…”
“He’s just a prince, what else?”
While Yuni was searching for the right words, Juhan came to a conclusion. Yuni frowned for a moment as if she didn’t like the expression, but it seemed she couldn’t find a more suitable one.
“You’re right, a prince. Though I much prefer the CEO in Seoul.”
Juhan didn’t say anything in response to Yuni’s words. Instead, he hung the thirty-fifth piece on the wall with a gentle smile that was rarely seen on his face. Without a doubt, it was an expression of agreement that he, too, preferred the CEO in Seoul.
They were two people who were more honest than anyone in the face of worldly pleasures, who got excited about luxury cars and couldn’t hide their joy at the chance to stay in a luxury hotel, but they still preferred the him from Seoul.
It might have seemed like a contradiction at first glance, but if I dared to say so after spending only a few months with them, it felt perfectly natural to me.
The two were certainly worldly, but in some ways, they were also the people who challenged that worldliness most fiercely. It seemed like a contradiction, but it was, undeniably, the identity of Baek Yuni and Kwon Juhan.
“Wow, it must be raining a ton in Korea right now. It says the rainfall in Seoul today is over 60mm.”
Juhan, who had been looking at his phone for a moment while waiting for the next piece, said in a raised voice. It was news that was hard to imagine given Hong Kong’s currently very clear weather.
“Hey, if you have time to look at your phone, come over here and unwrap one of these.”
“I wasn’t slacking off, I was checking to see if the Director would be able to catch her flight safely.”
“Nice try.”
While taking off the cover of the thirty-sixth piece, a large work over seven meters in combined width and height, Juhan grinned and nudged Yuni’s shoulder.
“It’ll probably still be the rainy season when we go back to Korea, but hey, at least we escaped it for a few days, right?”
Before long, the two had returned from their talk of real estate in various world cities to reality, talking about the joy of escaping the humid rainy season for a few days thanks to this business trip. Their sense of balance was amazing.
There were about four hours left until the VIP preview event.
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