“That girl is so young,” I say to Hanna. She appears to be an elementary student.

“Talented trainees get scouted really young,” Hanna replies, rubbing her eyes together. The girl told me that Hanna was still sleeping so I told her if she allows me in, I would wake her up myself. “It’s my off day today. I should be sleeping in.”

That takes me by surprise. “You get to sleep in on Sundays? I envy you.”

“Well, don’t you?” she inquires. I haven’t ‘slept in’ for a long time. She frowns when she sees me comfortably crossing my legs on her bed. “You seem…different.”

“I do?” I say, taking a bite out of a biscuit I grab from Hanna’s bag. “You’re not going to say I’m glowing, are you?” I add, reminded of Yang CEO and Jackson’s comments after my first satisfying shower in six months.

She smiles and reaches out to take my half-bitten biscuit.

“What…?” I ask her, feeling self-conscious as she continues to smile while watching me. “What is up with you?”

“So,” Hanna says, “Has Yang CEO helped you a lot?”

“Yeah, he has,” I tell her, nodding my head vigorously. “It’s been…an incredible few days.”

“Well, that’s great,” she says, satisfied with my answer. I wait for her to ask me more, but she doesn’t pursue it. Does she ever think about my life? I find this Hanna a stark contrast to the sobbing Hanna I met in Mr. Hyuk’s office.

“Hanna, I don’t get why you were so worried for me the other day,” I say, observing her carefully.

She pauses to ponder about it. “I’m always worried about you,” she says unconvincingly.

I have my doubts about that. Is something else bothering her? She cried as if I died! That’s not the Hanna I know - not that I know her anymore. Our relationship is a bit shaky at this point even though we still love each other as sisters.

“Tell me the truth,” I urge, assertive. “You won’t cry over me like that. You didn’t even cry when you told me to sleep in that alley six months ago.”

I know that it’s a sensitive topic for her. It’s hard for her to admit how selfish she was. She is still selfish though. Nothing’s changed dramatically.

She squirms uncomfortably under her blanket.

“Hanna!”

“What?!” she yells back, unable to control her emotions. “I – I –” She breaks down and starts crying.

Something has happened. I knew it. I knew it! It has always been about her. The sobbing. The dramatic mental instability. She puts the blame of her emotional problems on me because, apparently, it’s the easier road to take. What trouble has she got into that she thinks revealing our lives to her company is a good idea?

I take a new change of my clothes that she placed under her bed and stuff them into my bag while replacing the old ones.

“I have to go to work,” I mutter, dispirited.

She doesn’t stop me so I leave. I want to slam the door on her but I’m being considerate to her other housemates so I don’t – unlike my selfish sister.

----

Calm down.

Calm down.

The apartment is going to be empty so why am I anxious?

The elevator stops on their floor and I try to walk as casually as I can to their apartment. I’m calm.

I unlock their door.

Their living room is plain, but messy with many items. Dolls. Toys. Just random items.

I remember the manager’s orders. I search for the closet which he said was filled with cleaning supplies. There you are!

Where should I start? The living room? I think about their personal bedrooms and nearly vomit in excitement. Okay…the living room it is.

I haven’t cleaned a house since…you know when. I’m getting bored as I work on the living room and the kitchen. I always listen to music during my cleaning sprees but I sold my iPod. This is an apartment housing boys interested in pursuing a music career. There must be a radio or a CD player lying around.

Opening the door to one of the bedrooms carefully, as if I am expecting someone to actually be there, I catch a sight of an iPod dock. Lucky for me, an iPod is still on it! I can’t believe they left it here. Back when I still own an iPod, it was stuck with me wherever I went.

I switch it on and scroll through the music.

Hmm…my music taste doesn’t exactly match with the owner of this iPod. There’s tons of ballads in it. I don’t listen to ballads – not unless I am in the mood for bawling my eyes out.

Right now, I need to be hyped for cleaning! I find a ‘Dance’ playlist and play that on the highest volume possible. I start sifting through the dirty clothes lying all over the place. Should I wash these?

I go to every room and pick up all the presumably dirty clothes. I head to their laundry room and put them into the washing machine. This should be done by the time I’ve cleaned the bedrooms. I make up their bed, dust everything and even position the stuffed bears nicely either on their bed or on the floor.

I clean their fridge. Poor boys. There’s absolutely nothing nutritious in the fridge! They don’t appear to cook for themselves. There’s hardly any raw ingredients for them to use. I wash the dirty dishes that I collected from the sink, bedrooms and living room.

I take out the vacuum and start vacuuming the whole apartment.

I hear the alarm ringing off from the washing machine signalling that the clothes are washed. I put those into the dryer and continue vacuuming the apartment.

Once I done that, I tackle the toilets. I’ll spare the details on that one.

After that’s finished, I feel a sense of satisfaction creep into me. Now, this is much better. This place is far more presentable than when I first came in.

Something feels off though. Something smells off.

This place reeks of boys and sweat. That isn’t the worst thing on earth but it’s not exactly pleasant. So I go for a short trip to the store to get a combination of air fresheners. ‘Sweet Bouquet’ – that sounds like something guys would not be okay with. I’m not sure if they’d like their apartment smelling like flowers, although I personally would appreciate that. I buy it anyway, because mothers always make home smell like flowers. I bet these boys miss nothing more than their homes. The solid ones I place in every room and I spray every room afterwards again as a finishing touch.

I take out the clothes from the dryer, carefully sorting out whose clothes I found where. Not exactly sure who owns it, I iron them and place them on the beds in each bedroom. They can find their clothes themselves, I assume, as long as I put them right back in which bedroom I found them in.

Now, everything’s clean!

I give myself a pat on the back. I never thought I would actually enjoy this! It’s definitely way better than sitting in a store for six hours, serving less than ten customers per night.

The apartment smells really nice that my own scent stinks from all the sweating. It’s probably against the rules, but I take a quick shower in one of the bathrooms. Thank goodness I have a change of clothes with me all the time.

I lie down on the couch in the living room.

I’ve been fairly professional throughout this cleaning session. Never have I touched their items unnecessarily. I don’t know who stays in which bedroom because I’m careful not to figure it out. I’m afraid that if I do find out, I might do something I regret…

But…

I’ve been professional…

Doesn’t hurt to take a peek…

Then, suddenly, the doorbell rings!

I rub my eyes, realizing that I just fell asleep. I glance at my watch. No way! It’s 10pm! I must have been knocked out from all the cleaning.

The doorbell rings again.

I sit up, panicked. Who could that be?

I open the door quickly without a second thought and I’m greeted by a man.

“Oh?” he says, surprised to see me.

“Um…” I’m not sure what to say. Who is this? What do maids say when they open the door? “Can I help you, sir?” I ask, recreating a scene I’ve seen in movies. I hope I pull it off well.

“Are the boys in? Who are you?” he asks me back. His voice is vaguely familiar.

“I’m the house cleaner,” I reply, rubbing the back of my head shyly. “The boys aren’t in.”

“Are you now?” he says, looking at me suspiciously. “Aren’t you a bit too young to be a cleaner?”

“I really am!” I declare, defensive. “You can ask Yang CEO. Or their manager.”

“I will,” he states. He invites himself in, bringing a basket full of snacks with him.

“Excuse me! They’re not in! Please do not enter!” I exclaim, shocked at his unexpected entrance.

“What’s that? I hear music from the bedroom,” he comments, turning around to the direction of the blaring music. Ah! Crap! I forgot about that!

I go to switch the music off and when I return, I see him putting the snacks into the cupboard. He appears to be completely at ease. I wonder who he is.

“Excuse me, I’m happy that you’re stocking up their snacks and all…but you need to leave,” I tell him kindly. I don’t think he is a threat but I certainly can’t let anyone enter here while the owners aren’t around!

“I’m their sunbaenim,” he points out as if it justified everything.

“I’m just doing my job, sir. Please leave,” I usher him out.

“You really cleaned up their apartment well!” he remarks as he takes a proper look around. “It even smells good.” He inhales deeply.

“Yes, yes,” I nod, pushing him lightly on the back.

“You really don’t know me?” he asks, standing in front of the door. “You don’t recognize me at all?”

I stare at him for less than a second before he bursts out in frustration, “Ya! I’m a superstar!”

That’s all fine and good, but I don’t religiously keep up with celebrity news.

I scratch my chin and take a guess, “Are you…Park Ji Sung?” I saw him once on Running Man. This man has similar facial features to Park Ji Sung.

He laughs in disbelief. “Seriously.”

What does that mean? Did I get it right or wrong?

This man is interested in dragging out the conversation so I tell him to wait a moment while I grab my backpack. I take a final glance in every room and make sure everything is proper before locking the apartment doors.

I’m incredibly impressed to see the man still waiting for me.

“Why don’t you try guessing again?” he insists, eager. I enter the elevator and press the button for ground floor.

“I really don’t know…” I say honestly, trying to avoid disappointing him.

He nudges me to hazard a guess regardless.

Fine. “Er, Seungri?” I suggest, throwing out random names now. I have no clue at all so I start with Big Bang.

“Ya,” he mutters, laughing his head off. “You really don’t know, do you?”

That’s what I said!

He follows me out of the apartment building but stops short at the exit.

“Hey,” he calls me out. I turn around to face him, showing him an apologetic face. I will never get his name right if he continues to let me guess.

“I’m Tablo,” he introduces himself with his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

  ----

“I’ve missed you!” Jackson yells as soon as he enters the store.

His shout wakes me up from my nap. Wow. I’ve been feeling so sleepy after cleaning iKon’s apartment. I must be really worn out.

“Hey, sorry,” Jackson apologizes in a barely audible whisper. “You can continue sleeping.”

“I need to work,” I mumble, forcing my eyes open. They flutter weakly.

“You look really tired.”

“I am.” I close my eyes and, immediately, I start drifting to sleep. I almost fall over but Jackson stands beside me, acting as a pillar. “Thanks…”

“Jang Youngmi,” he says.

“Yes?”

“Let me work in your place tonight,” he suggests, gazing at me softly. “You’re exhausted.”

“No, no,” I refuse, shaking my head. “This is my job. You must be tired too!” I don’t exactly know what he does but I’m pretty sure he has better things to do than help me.

“Nah, I didn’t really do anything today. Look, no eyebags,” he points at his non-existent eyebags. “I slept like a baby today. Let me help you.”

I really want to refuse his offer, but my eyes close automatically. I let my head drop down onto the counter out of exhaustion yet it doesn’t make a thump.

“Jackson…”

“It’s alright,” he assures me, slowly removing his hand that kept my head from slamming on the counter.

“Thank you…” I mumble.

“Sure.”

----

Jackson is gently poking my arm, calling my name repeatedly.

“Jang Youngmi…” he says, over and over again. I hear him as clear as day but, for once, I want to pretend I don’t. “I know you’re awake,” he says, chuckling. "I can see your eyeballs moving." Yikes.

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry for using you the whole night,” I apologize, regretting my self-centred action when I realize my shift is over. “You should’ve woken me up halfway!”

“I did…”

“Did you?” I say, horrified. Did I sleep like a dead plank???

“Yeah, but that’s fine. I got the cash register working in no time – all thanks to Google,” he says, light-hearted.

I profusely apologize to him but he keeps shrugging it off. From what I observe, it genuinely doesn’t bother him at all. He spent six hours working for me and he’s as cheery as he was when he came in.

“Ugh,” I groan. “I need to go to school.” School. Ugh.

“Well, see you next time, Youngmi. I have to go train – uh – work,” he tells me, waving his goodbye.

He leaves with a positive energy surrounding him, as if he didn’t spent the whole night sitting in for me. He’s so sweet.

If my tooth could react to his sweetness right now, it would ache. Ugh. Corny.

I wait up for the next worker to take over my shift before running to catch the bus to school.

On the way to school, I’m still drowsy. It doesn’t help that the girls in front of me are being noisy, giggling over something.

I feel extra sensitive this morning since I’m trying to catch some sleep in the bus so I lean forward to ask them to lower their volume.

“He was sooooooooo funny!” the girl on the left says, shoving her phone to her friend. “And handsome too!”

She is showing her friend a video of a group of idols.

“Look, look, this part is funny!” she exclaims, pressing pause on the video until her friend pays full attention to the video. "I hope they become superstars!"

I glance at her phone screen and do a double take.

Is that…

Is that Jackson?