Off Leash

Since the great Seo Moon-yeol didn't seem like the type to cling and moan, Hae-soo put higher odds on the latter.

"Yeah, okay, then. You don't want it, what can I do. Let's just be civil and say hello when we see each other."

And yet, unexpectedly, he agreed without a fight. She'd been braced for him to snort and demand why on earth he'd need to greet her.

She stood there feeling like she'd been smacked on the back of the head as he lifted the arm he'd let fall and tucked a cigarette between his lips. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked his wrist with a crisp click. Holding the tip to the flame that swayed red, he inhaled so deeply his cheeks hollowed out.

"Go on in. You don't look like a fan of cigarette smoke."

His voice came out along with the smoke, and there was something cold in it. It wasn't a suggestion — it was an order. In a word: I'm in a bad mood, so get lost.

So that did bruise his pride, huh. She guessed as much in a heartbeat, but there was nothing to do except turn away.

"Right. See you at school."

Tap, tap. Hae-soo hurried out of the alley at a brisk pace.

On the morning of her summer internship interview, Hae-soo woke to find a note lying by her pillow. It was Jeong-ae's handwriting.

At the sight of her mother's mark, discovered the moment her eyes opened, Hae-soo smiled and stretched, refreshed and ready. Instead of rolling and flopping around on the blanket, she sprang up and planted herself in front of the fridge. When she swung open the little refrigerator that reached only as high as her chest, a creamy cup of misutgaru was waiting for her.

Ah, that's delicious.

The admiration came on its own. It was exactly the thinness and sweetness she loved. She drained the cup without leaving a drop, then tidied the bedding. As always, she took up broom and dustpan and swept the floor. With the tiny space barely six pyeong, cleaning took no time at all.

Then she washed and dressed. One by one she put on the interview suit she'd bitten the bullet and bought a month ago. A set — white blouse, black jacket, black skirt. She rarely wore skirts, so it felt terribly awkward and strange.

"I'm not going to have to wear this every single day at work, right……"

After angling her body this way and that before the mirror stuck inside the closet door and straightening her appearance, she sat down at her little floor table. The trusty thing served as a desk, a dining table, and sometimes — like today — even a vanity.

Whew. Now comes the real work.

Taking a deep breath, Hae-soo picked up her lineup of cosmetics in order and applied them, one by one. Skin toner, lotion, sunscreen, primer. She'd put on just one product more than usual, and already her skin was complaining of feeling suffocated.

And I still have base and foundation left.

Hae-soo sighed over and over as she worked through each planned step. Still, the base makeup was the easy part. When it came to drawing eyeliner, it was truly, honestly so hard that she wanted to throw the whole thing in.

"Do I have some kind of essential tremor?"

Anxiety kept coaxing murmurs out of her. Terrified of one careless slip ruining everything, Hae-soo held her very breath and painstakingly finished her eye makeup.

Then came the hair. She fitted a net as fine and dense as a spider's web over her long hair, gathered low, and twisted it into a bun. Like a snake coiling up, she wound the hair into a circle and pinned it in place with U-shaped bobby pins here and there. With a thin rat-tail comb she teased a little volume back where it had flattened, then finished with a cloud of hairspray so nothing would come loose. Only then did the long campaign end.

"Wow……. Now I get why people pay for this at a salon."

Utterly spent, Hae-soo studied herself in the mirror. She'd worried it might look clumsy, but it was fairly convincing. At least not laughable. All that practice last night, watching videos, had paid off.

"Hello. I've applied for the Seomoon Department Store summer internship……"

Rehearsing her one-minute self-introduction under her breath, she packed her bag. Even if everything else was perfect, it would all turn to smoke if she was late to the interview, so her plan was to arrive early and wait. It was her first time going there, after all — the subway could be delayed, any number of unpredictable things could happen.

"Ugh."

The moment she slid her feet into her shoes with all defenses in place, a groan escaped her unbidden. Her toes, which had lived their whole lives knowing nothing but soft, cushioned sneakers, felt like they were staging a protest, shouting their total opposition.

No. You can do this.

She stood in the shoes and rolled her foot resolutely. She'd packed bandages in her bag just in case, so surely nothing would go wrong. She opened the door.

Creeeak.

A groan of metal sounded from the old hinge. But there was a sound she hated even more.

"Ahh, I hate it! I really hate it!"

The sound's origin was the second floor of the mansion — the sunniest room at the far left end.

Standing before the tiny container house they called the annex, Hae-soo quietly lifted her gaze. At the end of it, white chiffon curtains billowed and danced like fluttering wings.

"I won't drink it. Agh, I said I won't! It's too bitter!"

Through the open window drifted the kind of petulant whining only a small child should be capable of. The stuffy-nosed, cold-ridden voice belonged to Park Se-bin.

The only daughter of Chairman Park Seung-gook, master of this great red mansion — the apple of his eye, cherished like gold-jade treasure, a flower so delicate it might fly away if breathed on and shatter if gripped.

"Looks like it's starting again."

Hae-soo clicked her tongue with the weariness of familiarity. It would be the usual battle over her herbal medicine, same as every day. Against the unchanging daily ritual, she crossed the back yard without much thought.

"Oh, come on, just five little sips. No — three sips, just three, hmm?"

She'd barely made it ten paces when Jeong-ae's voice reached her, strained and pleading. Hae-soo could see it all too clearly: her mother hopping from foot to foot with a bowl of herbal medicine balanced on a tray.

"I got up before dawn and made mandu — the kind our Se-bin loves…… and this is how you treat me, really?"

"Mandu……?"

"Mm. I'll make you a lovely hotpot with them. Or shall I pan-fry them nice and golden instead?"

Ah, so that's what that mandu smell was.

One sniff and her stomach growled. Had the misutgaru digested already? Hae-soo wrinkled her nose, embarrassed.

"I still don't want it. If it means drinking herbal medicine for mandu, I'd rather starve."

But the princess of the main house was not so easily seduced by mere dumplings. Today, too, she apparently meant to torment the poor housekeeper to her heart's content before deigning to swallow a single sip.

The hand gripping her bag strap tightened until her fingers ached. Hae-soo bit down on the soft inside of her cheek and glared up at the second-floor window. As predicted, Jeong-ae was starting to roll out every inducement she had.

Then how about japchae? Want to go shopping? Should I call Mr. Kim and have him pick up a mille-feuille from the V Hotel?

Hae-soo forcibly swallowed the sigh that climbed all the way to her throat. It wasn't that she didn't understand why Jeong-ae had to fawn and fuss like that. Chairman Park had grown obsessive about his daughter's health ever since his young wife died of illness — so anyone employed in this house naturally had to mind her step.

And as for Park Se-bin — what kind of spoiled-child illness drama was this frequent? Every change of season she'd catch some little cold and put the whole household on edge.

So be understanding about it. Of course I am, but……

"And mille-feuille and dacquoise too."

"Shall I? What kind of dacquoise? Should I tell him to bring one of every kind they make?"

"Ah, no, I'd get fat. Just two — vanilla and raspberry. Tell him exactly two."

"Yes, yes. I'll tell him to bring exactly two so…… there we go! There we go, good girl, eat up! Aigoo, such a good girl, our Se-bin. Honestly, how do you listen this well? Pretty enough to die, and obedient too."

Why does my mouth taste so bitter? It's not like this has only been a day or two — it's been my daily life for twenty-three years now.

I will pass this internship. I swear it.

Kindling her resolve, Hae-soo adjusted her bag on her shoulder. Today's interview was for a recruitment-linked internship — one that could lead to a guaranteed job offer if she performed well. And at a major corporation, no less. Starting salary of roughly forty million won a year.

Enough money to end this freeloading existence in someone else's house, wouldn't you say? I'd have to take out a loan to get a place, of course, but still.

Hae-soo ran the numbers crisply in her head. Forty million won. Considering what she and her mother spent, it seemed just barely enough to pay down principal and interest while covering living expenses besides.

That's right — almost there. Almost.

The result of running herself ragged without ever once taking the breaks other students took for granted — after all these years, her long-held dream finally felt close enough to grasp. To land a good job after graduation and give Jeong-ae a life of comfort. To build Jeong-ae a home that was Jeong-ae's own, a household that was Jeong-ae's own. And so that her mother could finally have a mother of her very own.

Go get 'em, my girl!

Turning the note that had opened her morning so sweetly over in her mind, Hae-soo gave a small wave toward the second-floor window.

"I'll come back having nailed it, Mom."

Over her sturdy shoulders, the early-summer sunlight shattered bright and dazzling.

It hurt enough to bring tears to her eyes. At this point she honestly couldn't tell whether her feet were the problem or the shoes.

"Ungh……"

Hae-soo had arrived at the company a full hour and a half before her interview, and the moment she sat down in a nearby café she flung the shoes off without ceremony. They were so swollen onto her feet they wouldn't come off properly, and forcing them free left another raw scrape on her heel.

Just how many bandages am I going to need?