Mondays were like a godsend for Joohyun. While students and employees alike scowled at the arrival of this wretched day, she found it comforting. It was the only day of the week when she could rest. Tuesday to Sunday was a blur most of the time, filled up with meetings, factory visits, and so-called “father-daughter” time. Now that the weather was colder and the streets of Seoul were slicker and harder to maneuver through, these family “reunions” were waning in number, but nonetheless countless.

However, to say the truth, Joohyun could not feel any more thankful towards her father’s support. Ever since she was a young child, her interest in fashion existed. In grade school, she sold hand-stitched clothes to her pampered classmates, labeling it as “the only one that exists”, “limited edition”, and all of that nonsense. In middle school she had started the “Joohyun trend” when she daringly emblazoned her own label on her school uniform. Even now, Joohyun sees some students from the middle school who proudly wear their own designs on their uniforms.  In high school, Joohyun was voted as the student most likely to succeed. She now hopes that her efforts all these years after graduation would pay off.

It was now 11 a.m., and Joohyun decided to first go for some coffee at the GrindBeans café down the street, then visit the textile shop for some extra fabric. She gathered her beige-colored long coat, a wine-colored scarf, and her trusty Balenciaga purse. Slipping on her matted black combat boots, she opened the front door with a click. She shut the door and quickly pranced down the stairs of her apartment complex.

By the time she had finally gotten out of the building, regret began seeping into her in the form of whipping winds. The snowflakes drifted in swirls, and the trees around her snapped back and fo