Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
An empty bottle of wine sat on the floor of Yeonji's living room. She had collapsed on the couch, spending sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. It was then she noticed the crack, almost resembling a scar she has on her shoulder. Every time her eyes shut, she could hear the ringing of gunshots and see the bodies dropping.
She drags her feet off when she realizes it's already noon. She decides to go to work to meet with her director and check if she still has a job. She should've done this in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to.
The cold water doesn't seem to faze her anymore; she doesn't jump at the initial contact, and she doesn't tremble when the cold air slaps against her. She can't feel it. Her body feels numb.
She drags herself to work, if she can still call it that. As doubt begins to grow, she starts to feel everything. It crashes down on her quickly. She almost died the day before, and now she has to continue with her life as if nothing happened. She didn't even try contacting the authorities. With no proof, who would believe her? Nobody.
For some reason, the handle of the building feels colder than anything else. Her heels click against the marble floors. Here, she trembles, nervously waiting for the elevator doors to open. Once inside, she presses number 6– the directors' offices floor.
She walks out of the elevator, her breath catching in her throat. The secretary looks up at the sound of clicking heels. "Yes?" She asks. She's younger than Yeonji, yet she has a better position than her and a bigger salary. The realization makes Yeonji's head spin. One shot. Another. Another.
The secretary clears her throat, snapping Yeonji from her thoughts. 'For Mr. Yun, from floor three." Yeonji says. It feels as if she hasn't spoken in years. The sound of her voice almost catches her off guard.
The assistant nods her head and informs Mr. Yun that someone's here to see him. "He'll see you now." She looks at Yeonji.
Reluctantly, Yeonji's feet carry her into Mr. Yun's office. She knocks once. "Come in." His voice echoes and vibrates in her ears, despite not being loud at all. She opens the door and steps inside.
Mr. Yun spins around in his chair, stacks of papers in his hands. When his eyes meet Yeonji's, he huffs, anger evident in his expression. "Nam Yeonji," he says, raising a brow.
"You do understand you were hired for this job based on your credentials. The president chose to ignore your... previous endeavors at your last company." Mr. Yun bitterly spits at her, hinting at the reason she was fired. "Mr. Jeon chose to put you under observation, so you knew that not showing up for work would not go unnoticed. You've given us no problems until now. However, you also knew that Mr. Jeon was waiting for important papers assigned to you. All the work was delayed because of you. It's not you Mr. Jeon takes it out on– it's me. I'm the one who got his ass handed to him for your bullshit." He shakes his head.
