Turn Off the K-drama!

Episode 1.1

Beep, beep, beep!

The staccato notes of the alarm drill into my skull.

"Mmph..."

Groaning, I reach for my phone, grabbing at the air. I groggily press on the snooze button, squinting from the morning sunlight shining directly into my eyes. I toss the phone back to the nightstand and fall back into bed.

Wait, what time was it?

I shoot upright, one of my stuffed animals falling off from the disturbance. I snatch the phone from my nightstand and stare at the screen.

7:26 am. I'm late.

Instantly, I scramble out of bed. I stumble frantically through the messy rubble scattered around my shoebox apartment, slippers and rug corners and knicknacks tripping my feet and adding to the growing pile of debris on the floor. I make it to the bathroom and grab at the edges of the tiny sink. In my hurry to brush my teeth, I put too much toothpaste on the toothbrush, leaving a glob of it in the sink as I spit, but I don't care right now. I slap on some light makeup and quickly comb my hair into a high ponytail, a hairstyle I've done almost every day of my life.

I grab my phone. 7:43 am.

I take a deep breath. There's time.

I rush to the closet and yank some clothes to the side until I find a suit. I only pay enough attention to know that it's presentable. After shedding my pajamas at lightning speed and wrangling on the suit, I scrabble around on the floor for a pair of shoes. Finding a pair of black loafers under my bed, I slip them on and make a mad dash to the door of my apartment, grabbing my work bag as I do so. Luckily, I packed it the day before.

As I unlock the door, a familiar grumble comes from my stomach. I stop for a moment and check my phone. 7:51 am.

I probably have time.

I jump over the mess congregated near the entrance and grab a packaged convenience store bun from the countertop.

Bread in hand, I run out the door and hurry down two flights of stairs before entering the sidewalk. As I race ahead, I hear the screech of bus brakes in the distance. I instantly start sprinting towards the bus stop, a few hundred feet away, cursing under my breath as I do so. Oh, so the bus chooses today of all days to be freaking early?

The bus closes its doors with a hiss and begins to roll away. My legs feel like they're about to give out, but only pure adrenaline is holding me up. I can't give up. Not now.

I redouble my efforts and keep sprinting towards the bus. Eventually, I reach it. I bang on the side of the bus.

"Hey, please stop!" I shout. "I need to get on. Please!"

But it doesn't. And as my hopes and dreams roll further and further away, I slow to a stop. Panting, I crouch low to the ground. I feel my eyes grow hot and wet. I hate myself for being unable to wake up in time. I'm never like this, so why today? Of all days?

Then, an ear-splitting mechanical screech. I look up. The bus is still, the doors open. I immediately run up to the bus door and step inside, profusely thanking the middle-aged bus driver. 

He shakes his head. "That guy insisted we stop," he says, jerking a thumb towards the back.

When I follow his line of sight, my heart skips a beat. A handsome man with a narrow face looks up from his seat. He notices both of us looking at him and briefly lifts the corners of his mouth in acknowledgement.

I reflexively reach up and touch the frame of my glasses. I have them on. Thank goodness.

I nod in thanks to the bus driver and the good-looking passenger and make my way to a corner of the bus, far from both of them. Sitting down, I take out my phone and check my face in the mirrored camera. My glasses are definitely on. My face is a bit pink from running, but that will fade eventually. My ponytail is still flawless.

I put away the phone and adjust my glasses again, pressing the nose bridge firmly into my face. I cautiously peek over at the passenger again. He's looking at his phone. He seems to have no interest in me.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I open the package of bread and pull some papers out of my bag. As the cityscape of Seoul flashes by through the bus window, I silently look over my resume one last time. Jeon Seoyul, 27 years old, worked two years as a project manager in the Planning division of Onus Inc. Left position one month ago for... undisclosed reasons.

Shaking my head, I flip over to some documents and review the interview questions most likely to be asked. This position would definitely be the riskiest one yet, but I'm at the end of my rope. Just getting an interview for this job was a hail mary. I can't afford to screw this up.

***

I put my hands to my face, utterly exhausted. It's been a few weeks since the interview, and I haven't heard back from the company. Since then, I have continued to apply for job after job, but I haven't even gotten a single offer yet.

I think about my old job at Onus, with the 'optional' overtime and team dinners that were just an excuse to drink alcohol and harass junior members. Ugh, what a terrible time. They didn't blacklist me or badmouth me to other people in the industry, did they?

I shake my head. There's no way. That would be more trouble than I'm worth.

I turn back to my laptop, the screen glowing in the dim nighttime lighting. Since the interview, I cleaned up my apartment a bit, but it still feels oppressively tiny, cagelike.

I grit my teeth. "You got this, Seoyul. Fighting!"

As I click on another job listing, I hear a ring from my phone. Reflexively, my hand darts out and I pick it up. I take a deep breath and press the answer button.

"Hello?"

I hear a thin, tinny voice on the other side of the line. "Am I speaking to Jeon Seoyul?" The voice inquires.

"Yes, this is she," I reply. I vibrate in anticipation. Could it be...?

"This is Choi Minji from the HR division of Clairvane. I am calling to extend you a job offer as the secretary for the chief executive officer of our company."

I put my hand over the phone mic and emit an inaudible squeal. Oh my goodness! Is this it? Finally??

"Ms. Jeon?" The voice echoes.

I clear my throat and put the phone back over my ear. "Yes," I respond, making my voice sound as professional as possible. "Thank you so much for the offer. I am delighted to receive this position, and I would like to accept."

"That's good to hear." The person on the other side of the line purses her lips. "There will be an evaluation period of eight weeks. If all goes well, the position will become permanent. We hope to have you begin as soon as possible. There will be a compensated short training period at the office. Would you be available starting Monday of next week?"

I pump a fist in the air. "Yes, I would," I say. A huge smile spreads over my face.

"Great. More correspondence will be sent in an email."

After she ends the phone call, I run to my bed and flop over. I pick up a dilapidated plush crocodile and hold it to my chest.

"I can't believe this, Mumu," I say dreamily to the crocodile. "I finally have a job! There's an evaluation period, but I know that I'll crush it. We should celebrate, order some noodles."

I lurch upright, the plush still clasped to my chest. I hold it out with both hands and study its face. "But, one must be very careful," I counsel the crocodile. "Even with my glasses, it's always possible to restart the Plot. So I must be especially vigilant."

I absent-mindedly grab the lensless glasses on my nightstand and poke my fingers through the empty rims. I put the glasses on Mumu. "But I'm definitely going to be more careful this time," I smile. "There is no chance anything like that will happen again."