The flight from Chicago O’Hare International Airport (ORD) to Gerald R. Ford International Airport (GRR) in Grand Rapids was about an hour.

Boarding another plane felt like changing buses, but after sitting for so long, my back was aching and creaking like an old hinge.

"Ugh…"

Dad carried a sleeping Yoon on his back as he boarded first.

"Shouldn’t you get some rest too?"

"I slept a bit on the first flight. Mom looks more tired than I do."

"Don’t worry, I napped earlier. I’m fine."

Mom and I chatted as we walked down the aisle.

Ms. Lee and Mr. Hong had gone to grab snacks.

I didn’t know it before, but those two were practically best friends.

Their conversations were full of ridiculous banter—childish to the point that even toddlers wouldn’t stoop so low.

Once again, we were seated in first class, courtesy of Ms. Lee.

I’d insisted on paying for my own ticket, but her firm stance left me no choice but to accept.

So this is what America feels like, I thought as I breathed in the air.

Compared to Korea, the air felt heavier—filled with the scent of iron and oil, indicative of a developed nation.

This time, the flight was only an hour, so instead of sleeping, I spent the time chatting with Ms. Lee and Mr. Hong.

"Mr. Hong, aren’t you going to Atlantis?"

"I’ll get there eventually. I’ve got people to meet at the Prize event anyway."

Right, he was here for the Prize.

Curious, I asked him, "Which planets are participating in this year’s Prize?"

"Hmm, let’s see... Jupiter, Saturn, and Mercury, I believe."

Three planets participating? That was surprising.

Turning to Ms. Lee, I asked, "Are there any participants from Drawing Korea?"

"...Do I look like a Drawing Korea employee to you?"

She shot me an incredulous look.

Drawing Korea was a globally recognized company, and while it was possible that someone affiliated with them was participating, I’d have to see for myself.

It was better to confirm in person.

"What’s the title of your piece, Ms. Lee?"

"Just wait until we get there. The title and pseudonym will be displayed together."

"But it’s in English, and I don’t know English."

"...?"

Her expression twisted as she processed the absurdity of my statement.

"I topped the school rankings, not the TOEFL exam."

Still, she leaned in close and whispered, "It’s called Gardens of the World. The pseudonym is the same as my name, Lee Areum. Happy now?"

"Sure, thanks. But could you back off a bit? You’re too close."

Ms. Lee stepped back, her face slightly flushed as she grumbled, "You’re the one who asked..."

"Can’t you just say it normally? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Then what’s your piece called?"

"My piece?"

She raised an eyebrow, prompting a mischievous smile from me. Time to have a little fun.

"It’s called Snowless Snowy Mountain, or something like that."

"Or something like that...?"

"I’ve given you the title. The rest you’ll have to see for yourself."

Ignoring her narrowing eyes, I turned to Mr. Hong.

"Do you have any pieces you’re preparing, Mr. Hong?"

"Hmm? I do, but it’s not quite ready yet."

"How long have you been working on it?"

"About six months now."

So he was preparing a masterpiece, likely for a future event.

"For the Prize?"

"No, for the Biennale."

"Ah, which one? Busan?"

He shook his head.

"The Shanghai Biennale. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious where you’d showcase such a well-crafted piece."

"Haha, why don’t you come with me next time? I’ll cover all the travel expenses."

"If you’re offering, I’d gladly accept."

Our casual conversation turned into a promising invitation. Shanghai sounded interesting—I might actually go.

The hour-long flight passed quickly as the three of us chatted.

Yoon, miraculously, slept the entire time.

Meanwhile, Mom was busy filming the clouds outside with her phone.

Watching her, a thought crossed my mind:

I should make some content too.

Since I was abroad, maybe I’d film a vlog. Probably as a livestream, as usual.

Before I knew it, the flight ended, and we arrived at Gerald R. Ford International Airport.

"Ugh..."

Still half-asleep, Yoon clung to me as we walked.

Why wasn’t she clinging to Dad instead of me?

At this rate, I’d be exhausted before we even reached our accommodations.

"My shoulder’s about to pop out," I said.

"Too bad," she muttered sleepily.

Sighing, I patted her head with my free hand.

If this was what she wanted, I’d let her. I could spare a shoulder—for now.

Though it might mean I wouldn’t be able to draw later.

"Yoon, your brother’s struggling. Stand up straight," Mom chided.

Grumbling, Yoon reluctantly let go and walked properly.

Despite her complaints, she managed to shake off her sleepiness for my sake.

We quietly followed Dad, who was already ahead of us, looking around like a curious tourist.

Watching him, I wondered if this was what I’d look like in the future.

Being the head of the family is no small feat.

Dad and Ms. Lee were deep in conversation before calling us over.

"We’ve completed the entry procedures. We’re ready to go," Dad announced.

"Shouldn’t we rent a car? You’ve got an international driver’s license, right?"

"Good idea."

Ms. Lee offered to cover the rental costs again, but this time Dad politely declined.

"Thank you, but I’ll handle this one. I’d rather contribute where I can."

Ms. Lee nodded in understanding.

After renting a car, we loaded up and set off.

Dad took the driver’s seat, while I sat in the passenger seat. The women sat in the back.

Mr. Hong parted ways with us at the airport, assuring us we’d see him at the Prize event.

"Wow! The whole city feels like an art gallery!"

"It basically is. During the Prize, some building owners lend their spaces for exhibitions."

Before lunch, we explored the city, marveling at the buildings turned into galleries.

It feels like a dream. I never thought I’d see a day like this.

From drawing in my room to participating in a global competition—it was surreal.

We visited the Grand Rapids Art Museum (GRAM), DeVos Place, and LaFontsee Galleries, among other places.

Even outdoor spaces and small cafes displayed artwork.

Though the competition wouldn’t start until July 14, the city was already teeming with artistic energy.

Two weeks to go, and there’s already so much to see.

The streets were filled with everything from amateur pieces to professional masterpieces.

But after an hour of browsing, I felt underwhelmed.

Not a single masterpiece?

While it wasn’t easy to create one, the lack of notable pieces was disappointing.

Maybe they haven’t displayed everything yet.

We grabbed lunch at a nearby restaurant before heading to our accommodations to rest.

"...Ms. Lee, do you just have too much money?"

"I don’t settle for anything less than a hotel."

"But this isn’t just any hotel."

The place Ms. Lee had booked was none other than the Amway Grand Plaza—the most luxurious hotel in Grand Rapids.

At the check-in desk, I overheard her say, "I’ve reserved the premium suite..."

Of course, it had to be a suite.

When I asked her how much it cost per night, she casually replied, "Regular rooms are $250 to $300, but for the suites, it’s about $1,000 a night."

"And you’re planning to stay here for over a month?"

"Don’t worry about it. I can afford it," she said, smiling.

How could I not worry? That’s over $67,000!

"...This doesn’t sit right with me. My family and I will cover our own costs."

Dad, overhearing the price, looked just as alarmed.

But after much back-and-forth—and Ms. Lee showing her account balance as proof—we had no choice but to relent.

She’s loaded. Absolutely loaded.

"Fine, but we’ll handle the rest of our expenses from now on," Dad insisted firmly.

Ms. Lee didn’t argue further.

"Let’s head up and rest," she said.

We made our way to the suite, ready to recharge.

Thirteen days until the competition began.

I was starting to doubt something.

I’m not sure I can avoid winning.