It was a leisurely afternoon under the warm sunshine. Kir laid stretched out, with his chin resting on his arm. It was tea time.

The light breeze gently brushed Kir’s hair. When our eyes met, he gave me a raw grin.

It was a beautiful scene. Bright blonde hair, as if spun out of fine threads of gold, and purple eyes that accentuated his charm.

What would have happened if he hadn’t been blessed with such good looks?

That angelic appearance, which somehow covered up his wicked personality, was praised a lot. And it seems to have become even more refined in the past year.

But you mustn’t be fooled by that face. You never know when his evil nature will make an appearance again.

His name is Kir. And he is rotten to his core.

Still, seeing that smile of his, it seemed like he was in a good mood. Perhaps it’s because it’s been a while since he last attended a tea time.

I really envy his soft hair fluttering in the wind. Unable to resist, I reached out to stroke Kir’s hair.

His eyes followed my hand, but he didn’t stop me. Oh, lucky!

He’d often let me do this when we were younger, but from some point on, it just stopped. Since it’d been such a long time since I’d last had this opportunity, I kept stroking.

It was as soft as silk. It would’ve been great if Kir’s personality was just as soft as his hair and that angelic appearance. Then he would be the most attractive guy in the world.

Ah, thinking of charming men reminds me of that driver I met yesterday. And the absurd incident that followed.

This is something you have to share with a friend to feel better.

“You know, I think I have a bit of a special ability.”

“What kind of ability?”

He asked in a bored voice, as if he wasn’t particularly interested, and was only listening for my sake.

It’s surprising how, even with his young age, he could still mask his tone and behavior with boredom. I’m scared of how dangerous he could grow up to be in just a few years.

I continued stroking his hair, and hoped he would stay at least this nice.

“The ability to seduce people by slapping them, perhaps?”

I said mysteriously, since it’s doubtful that it can truly be considered an ability. I was about to explain in more detail when Kir suddenly grabbed my wrist, stopping me from playing with his hair.

“Ah!”

My eyes whipped to Kir, surprised by his sudden behavior, wondering how I’d offended him. His eyes were burning like an eagle’s. The easy smile was gone, and his mouth had turned stiff and cold.

His angelic face disappeared, and a devil from hell seemed to take its place.

I shut up instinctively, sensing the dangerous atmosphere.

“Who did you slap?”

“N-no… what happened was…”

I started to explain, but immediately stopped when I noticed the fire of rage engulfing Kir’s eyes. I realized that he was on the verge of losing control. This was going to be troublesome.

He then shouted something I could never forget.

“I told you not to hit anyone else! If you want to hit someone, hit me! Hit me all you want!”

For a man who shouted such things, Kir’s expression was as serious as ever. My childhood friend’s secret taste hasn’t changed a bit.

***

My life was absolutely pathetic.

Oh, I should be more specific. My past life was absolutely pathetic.

Yes, I am someone who died and was reborn with a new body—a little unique reincarnation, since I can remember my past life.

In fact, I can’t even complain since half of my past life’s misery was self-inflicted.

My past life was on the shorter side. I died miserably at the age of twenty in an unfortunate accident. I never even got to experience a relationship, young as I was.

My previous life was pretty bland.

There’s this saying that ‘adults always know best,’ right? I can’t say that I completely agree, but in my case, it turned out to be correct.

You should study and go to a good university. Build up your specs. Your grades matter. Have a dream!

Of course, at that early age, the words just went in one ear and out the other. It all sounded like bothersome nagging to me.

Though my parents weren’t the affectionate sort, I still lived depending on them. So I didn’t know how harsh the world was. When you’re a kid, you don’t realize how sad and challenging making money could be.

“Are you sure you’re here to study? You should get some better grades.”

My homeroom teacher took me aside and told me when my report card came out.

‘Did you do well on your test this time? You need to study. If you live like that, you’ll regret it,’ and so on and so forth. I was so sick of hearing the elders’ nagging.

Yet, despite everything, I was not interested in studying and continued living as I pleased.

“When you grow up, you will have to make your own living.”

“We can only support you until you graduate. You should take care of yourself after that.”

My parents told me tiredly, instead of the usual nagging, when I handed them my report card.

My friends complain that they feel like dying after the several after-school academies their parents make them attend. But in my case, money was tight, and my parents spent so much time at work that my affairs were pretty much an afterthought.

We weren’t poor enough to starve, but I didn’t have the freedom to dream much and could rarely spend time with my parents. I could only see them as they went to work with a tired face.

They couldn’t miss work, so they never participated in any of my events, be it my elementary school graduation, middle and high school graduations, or entrance exams. I was always alone at home, eating the food in the refrigerator when hungry, from when I was in the lower grades of elementary school all the way up.

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At that time, I should’ve tried seeing it from my parents’ perspective and realized that adults’ reality was formidable. But I couldn’t.

I continued to live in a blur. I received a CSAT result of middle and lower grades, which wasn’t enough to enter a college. Eventually, I joined a junior college that accepted my grades.

Even then, I didn’t bother to plan out my future. I just did what others expected me to do. After completing high-school, you are expected to enter a university and graduate. So I did the same.

And that was the problem. Since there was no clear purpose, college life became dull. I was frustrated and lost interest, and eventually dropped out.

After leaving behind my status as a student, I came face to face with stark reality. Jumping into the employment front, I felt the real world slam into me for the first time.

It was hard to get a job with my humble resume. My grades until high-school weren’t great, and since I dropped out of college with a year remaining, I didn’t even have a certificate to show.

I sent my resume to many places, but no one contacted me. It was also difficult to get office posts at small or medium-sized businesses. My only remaining option was factory and service jobs.

At first, I worked in a factory for an outsourcing company. It was a semiconductor factory, and my job was to inspect the products. I worked all day wearing a dust-proof suit since dust shouldn’t get into the products. At that time, I thought I wouldn’t be doing it for too long.

We’d get paid a lump sum, and it was good at first. But the job was in 2 shifts – day and night – and the timing changes frequently. Moreover, we’d often have to work overtime. It’s technically not compulsory, but if you wanted to skip overtime or take a break, you’d need permission from the overseer, who had a bad personality. Every time I visited him, I would get scolded for slacking off.

“Take a break? What do you mean, take a break? If you rest now, it will only get harder later. Young people these days are too selfish. Do you think the others don’t want to take a break? This is why young people aren’t suitable for this kind of work.”

Initially, I was sad to hear this and shed tears. I gave up on resting rather than hurting my feelings by listening to harsh words, even though it was well within my right to take rests.

However, after working like that for three to four months, I started feeling that I was wasting away my youth in the factory. I felt that my life was in vain.

I started working in the factory when I was only twenty years old. All my friends were attending college, playing, and enjoying life. I felt ashamed of what I was doing.

So I quit my job at the factory and took on a new job.

My next job was in the clothing section of a department store. Of course, this wasn’t any less difficult than the factory work.

First of all, I always had to be laughing since it was a service business. And there were a lot of difficult customers I couldn’t handle.

While doing this job, I felt the sorrow of those who were poor. I realized that ‘life really is money’ and regretted not studying more to get a better job.

I’d heard that there would be many things to deal with when working in the service industry, but I didn’t think it would be this bad. Each day gave me another example of this.

“Hey, can you try this on for me? I’d like to get it as a gift for my daughter, but I’m afraid the size won’t fit. You look similar to her.”

The moment I saw the clothes the old man gave me, my throat went dry. The dress was ridiculously short, with far too much exposed cleavage.

Of course, clothes are personal preferences. And there’s nothing wrong with giving this as a gift. However, it was a design that made me want to ask if it was really his daughter to whom he was gifting this.

If he really was giving it to his daughter, I couldn’t help but doubt that it was a normal relationship. It was just too incredible.

“Oh, miss, can you pick that up for me?”

Dropping things on purpose and requesting for someone to pick them up. Funnily enough, this was usually done by grandfathers, who drop their canes, and only do it when we’re wearing skirts. You can never prove that it was intentional. They would seem to smile kindly, but you can still feel an insidious undercurrent.

And since the other party is an old man, I can’t even refuse. I could only swallow the bitterness and do as I’m told.

And then there were the common issues, other than sexual harassment. Products, once sold, are not refundable or exchangeable. And even if they were, you’d need to provide the receipt of purchase. However, even though these are clearly stated, some people still ask for a refund or exchange, claiming that the size does not fit or something, after wearing the product for years.

Meetings are conducted by the store to advise the employees on the correct method of dealing with demanding customers. ‘Do this and that, and your work will be a piece of cake,’ they say. ‘If you try hard enough, there’s no issue that can’t be solved,’ they say. It was all absurd.

Of course, I’d met plenty of kind customers, too. But the many bad experiences I’d been met with far outweighed the pleasant ones.

And like that, the bad encounters would pile up and drain me emotionally. I felt like it was gradually sucking the life out of me.

Those nasty customers are the bane of department store employees. You’ll have to endure all kinds of insults if you get stuck with them. They’re not people with whom you can communicate rationally. It’s like talking to a different species.

That day was the same

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That day was the same…

A pair appearing to be mother and daughter entered the store.

After several months of working in a department store, I had become good at reading people. These two were clothed in the season’s latest trends and carried numerous paper bags of expensive brands. They were VIP customers and sure to raise the sales.

“Are you looking for something specific?”

“No, I’ll just look around.” The daughter answered.

There was a lingering discomfort in the air. Avoiding someone because it would be too bothersome to interact with them is different than outright ignoring them, and the other person can usually tell when it’s happening. This, and judging from how they talked, I realized that I should be careful around these customers.

“Please let me know if you need anything. I’m at your disposal.”

I stepped back and waited, as not to bother them as they looked around. I felt envious seeing the daughter, who appeared younger than me, carelessly rummaging through this and that.

Some have to work tirelessly, like me, while others can go out and spend a month’s worth of my salary in one sitting without batting an eyelash.

It’s not that I was bitter about being born without a silver spoon.

It’s just that this disparity that seemed so hard to understand as a child was all too clear to see with these customers.

Some people have to toil for days and days on end just to buy a simple dress. Then there are others, who buy expensive clothes without a thought, and never even wear them. I don’t want to feel this way, but this sense of deprivation hits me pretty frequently.

Alas, that’s the most important thing to avoid in this job. Don’t compare yourself with others. Your life itself is different from theirs. I have to remember that.

As I turned away, so that I wouldn’t get swallowed by greed, my eyes met the daughter’s. She was watching me. Seeing her stern face, I felt that something was wrong.

“Unnie, was your mind wandering somewhere else, even though there are customers right in front of you?”

(T/N: ‘Unnie’ is Korean for ‘sister,’ used by a younger female to address an older female, not necessarily blood-related.)

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

I quickly bowed and apologized. It was my fault for not concentrating on my work.

“Ha, that’s funny. To do that so easily.”

The daughter snorted sarcastically. She crossed her hands and tilted her head, about to continue in earnest. So I quickly bowed deeper.

“I’m really sorry, ma’am. I will be more careful.”

“It’s easy to gobble up others’ money, isn’t it?”

I knew I made a mistake, but I didn’t think it was large enough to warrant this treatment. All the sarcasm made me emotional, and I pressed down on the rising sadness. I felt like I was going to scream, so I bit my lower lip and lowered my head.

“Unnie, are you annoyed?”

“No, ma’am.”

“What do you mean, ‘no?’ You got annoyed because of what I said, didn’t you?”

When the daughter burst out, the mother belatedly stepped in.

“What’s going on?”

“Mom, this person was getting annoyed right now. What does she mean, ‘no?’ She frowned now. I saw everything. Do you think I’m stupid?”

She was in high school, at most, but had cut off the honorifics. This kind of treatment was really unfair.

(T/N: The Korean language has honorifics – special titles, words, and verbs – that are used to refer to people older than you or higher than you in the social hierarchy.)

“What? Are you ignoring us?”

“Yes. If the employees are so unfriendly, won’t people be scared to buy from the shop?”

The voices of the mother and daughter grew louder, and people began rubbernecking to see the commotion. Since something needed to be done fast, I apologized first.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m really sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to look annoyed.”

I hoped they would calm down after this apology, but rather, the voices of the two became louder since it was as if they were proven correct.

“You’re sorry for ignoring us right now, is that it? Where is the manager? Tell him to come out right now. How much did we spend at this department store today? Is this how you treat us?”

“I know, right? Mom, I don’t think I can come to this department store again.”

The manager, who was finally alerted to the commotion, came running and panting, and a nearby security guard also approached.

“What’s the matter?”

But there was no way he could calm the mother and daughter. Instead, the two began to make an even bigger fuss once the person in charge appeared.

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