...Minseo...

“We are done with this. That’s it.”

It just took one sentence to shatter seven years of love, trust, and shared memories — love and trust that, as it turned out, only I had truly carried in our relationship. Those words hung in the air like a guillotine poised above my chest, heavy and unrelenting. Every laugh, every late-night conversation, every quiet Sunday morning we had shared seemed to vanish in that instant, leaving behind nothing but an empty echo of what I had believed was real.

I grabbed my suitcase, stuffing it with whatever little I could carry, my hands trembling with a mix of anger, hurt, and determination. I wanted to leave, to run from the memories, from the betrayal, from him — but as I found myself standing in front of our apartment door, or perhaps I should say his apartment door now, I froze. I looked around and noticed the place, once vibrant with life and warmth, had become nothing more than bricks and cement. A house, yes, but devoid of meaning, devoid of the love I thought we shared.

I glanced toward the living room, and memories came rushing back. The laughter, the movie nights, the quiet mornings with the sunlight spilling onto the couch — all of it played before my eyes like a cruel slideshow. The kitchen held even more: the countless meals we had cooked together, the small arguments over seasoning that had ended in giggles, the coffee we had shared while sitting side by side at the counter. Every corner of this apartment screamed of what had been — but every memory turned hollow the moment I remembered his smile. That smile, the one that had once been reserved for me, was now for someone else. Her. The one he had loved quietly, secretly, even while we had been together.

It took every ounce of strength within me to step out of that apartment. But I knew I had to. I realized, painfully, that the years of worrying about how others would perceive my decisions, the endless sacrifices I had made for the sake of a broken relationship, had been a chain around my spirit. Staying there was only harming me, and I had suffered enough. It was finally time to think about myself.

As soon as I left the building, I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.

“Hello, darling. Are you fine?” Her sweet, soft voice chirped through the line, warm and comforting, like a balm on a wound I hadn’t realized had festered for years. In a life where I had constantly doubted my choices and feared I could never get anything right, she was the one who helped me prove life wrong.

“I…” I faltered, my voice breaking slightly. “I have ended everything.”

I waited, though I didn’t know what for — an explanation, a comfort, maybe just a human reaction — but all I received was:

“I’m on my way.”

Those simple words brought tears to my eyes. I hadn’t cried once when I left him, hadn’t let a single droplet fall when I severed ties with what had been my life for so long. But this… this was what I needed. Not questions. Not judgments. Just someone who could hold me, silently, and remind me that even when the world crumbles, there is still light.

...Minseo...

Steam curled from my coffee cup, warm against my chilled fingers. I savored the sweet taste of whipped cream and the bitter taste of my coffee. The faint hum of chatter from the café made the space feel less empty. My eyes scanned Minji’s face for any hint of expression — though, honestly, her face was blank. She seemed to notice me and suddenly flashed that bright smile of hers — almost blinding me.

“I’m so damn proud of you, girl! Wait, let’s celebrate this class — how about we hit a club?”

I froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. Well, that’s exactly what I’d expect from her.

“Let’s save that for another time. I’m feeling better just being here with you,” I said, looking at her.

She gave me an assuring smile and asked, “So… now what?”

“Restart,” I replied, “but this time, it’s for me. For myself.”

Minji twirled her spoon absentmindedly, her eyes dancing with mischief, and I immediately knew what was coming next. “So… want me to recommend a few awesome spots for your restart?”

I gave her a bored look. “Not like that, Min.”

She sighed. “So… what’s the plan for starters?”

Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it. I’d never really thought about all of this, but now that I was facing it, I was ready to take on everything this experience might throw at me.

I fidgeted with the edge of my sleeve, unsure what to say next. “I don’t even know if I should look for a job first or a place to stay… I need both.”

Minji gave me that “problem solved” look. “The first problem is solved — my roommate just moved to her new apartment, so you can finally shift in with me. And as for the job… we’ll figure it out.”

I leaned back in my chair, finally feeling a little lighter. Just like that, my new journey began. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but this time, I was ready for everything.

“Either you pay for my loss, or you sign this contract.”

Okay… when I said I was ready for everything, I really didn’t think “everything” would look like this. How did I even end up here?

Two weeks before—

Laziness and disappointment were all I could feel. After spending two weeks job hunting, I realized it wasn’t easy to find work in a busy city like Seoul. And it was extremely impossible without experience.

Why don’t I have any? Well, because the company I was working for went bankrupt. And that happened right after I joined. Perfect timing, right?

I was still scrolling through LinkedIn and checking my mail for responses when Minji burst into my room.

“Hey, ever heard of knocking?” I teased, clutching my chest dramatically at her sudden entrance.

“Yes, but I don’t think it’s that important,” she said, plopping down beside me on the bed and tossing a file at me. A file I hadn’t noticed she was holding.

I opened it. “What is this?” I asked, flipping through the pages, trying to make sense of it.

“That’s the information for your new job,” she said ever so casually.

“My… new job?” My brows furrowed. My eyes went from the file to her face. Which was, surprisingly, completely normal.

“Yeah. I just had to make a call, and you got the job.” She mumbled while scrolling on her phone, as if this wasn’t a life-changing announcement.

“Just had to make a call?” I repeated, my tone demanding an explanation, even though I already knew what she meant.

“Okay, he told me I can ask for help anytime I need.” This time, she finally looked at me.

“And that’s for you, Min. You’re the one who’s supposed to ask him for help, not me.” I emphasized the you just so she got it.

“Come on, Seo,” she whined before adding, “He’s my father and your godfather.”

Yes. Minji’s father was my dad’s best friend. They had promised to be each other’s child’s godfather. After I lost my parents, he helped me a lot. And because of that, the idea of owing him even more made me feel suffocated.

I pushed the file back toward her, shaking my head. “I can’t take this. I already owe him for so many things.”

She groaned, giving me her classic I’m done with you look. “Stop saying that you owe him.” Then she moved closer, holding both of my hands. “He loves you like his own daughter. And if not for him, then please, do this for me. I can’t keep watching you like this.”

She paused, maybe to let her words sink in, before continuing, “Besides, your sulky face every time you get rejected is killing the happy, fun vibe of my apartment.” She crossed her arms with exaggerated fake anger.

Maybe she was right. And as I had promised myself — I was living for me now. I would take this opportunity.

“Okay. Let’s do this then.” I smiled at her, and she giggled back.

8:30 a.m.

Drinking the night before a very important interview is not a good idea. I knew that. But with Minji’s party-animal energy, saying no was impossible.

The result? I was late for my interview. It was scheduled for 9:00, and it was already 8:50 when I reached the reception desk of Park Enterprise.

The lobby was huge — a blend of lounge and waiting area, with tight security and an interior that screamed wealth. This place was pure heaven.

Without wasting more time, I hurried to the reception, where they directed me to report to HR for a formal interview. I glanced at my watch. 8:55 a.m.

One thing about me: I hate being late. It triggers a kind of anxiety that crawls under my skin and doesn’t let go.

As if my morning wasn’t cursed enough, the elevator doors closed just as I reached them.

Staring at the cold, metallic doors, I groaned. Fine. Stairs it was. Only two floors. I could handle that.

I rushed toward the staircase and climbed quickly. But the moment I stepped onto the second floor, I was greeted by the longest corridor I’d ever seen. Maybe it was only twenty feet, but to me, it looked like two hundred.

I broke into a run. The HR office was at the very end, and I didn’t have a second to waste.

I glanced down at my watch — and that’s when I crashed into something hard.

Wait. A wall? In the middle of the corridor?