Chapter 1: Currently Super ed

“I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen.” 

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Being a realist I know that people are greedy and selfish by nature. During a tight moment, they think about themselves first, anything else would be foolish. Yet, sometimes people make strange choices because of a thing called empathy. It's just that there are moments when feelings take over our senses and make us do insane things. We become idiots and then we regret – there are no explanations as to why. We just make unexplainable decisions that ruin our lives forever.

This is exactly what happened to me, Park Sandara, the dumbest woman on earth – 25 years old yet a strong believer in miracles. Not really, but that's the only explanation to commit such an insane act of 'moronism'. I blame my weak heart for once again being a victim of this thing called empathy. 

Where should I start?

Once upon a time after a long day at work, I headed for dinner at a nearby restaurant because the food there was good and the owner was the nicest old lady in the world. She was often grumpy and complained a lot, but she only did so because she cared. Or maybe she just hated me all along? Nah, that can’t be.

However, when I arrived in the restaurant I couldn’t believe my eyes. It had been completely destroyed. A hurricane had struck the place, a hurricane in a form of four burly men dressed in black suits – loan sharks. They demanded money from the old lady but, obviously, she had no money. People who knew her also knew that she had no family, her son had died from cancer years ago and her husband had passed away too. She had no one in the whole world to depend on. Just like me.

And what do I have to complain about? To put it extremely simply: my mother left me when I was little, my father died when I wasn't ready to live on my own yet, three years ago my stepbrother disappeared without a word and five months ago my fiancée dumped me just before the wedding. Great, right? Knowing that a lot of people have had it worse than me, I shouldn't be complaining about my first world problems but damn my life .

Back to the present situation which totally as well, albeit not as much as my fiancée dumping me after the wedding invitations had been sent and the venue booked. At least, he should have had enough courtesy to tell me earlier, don’t you think so?

Anyway, me being me, the idiot of the century… I just pitied the old lady too much and somehow everything just happened...

“I’ll pay her debts so you people better leave her alone!”

That’s right. I can’t believe it either.

So I ended up standing in front of a tacky bar where I had been sent to meet up with 'the boss'. Tango flashed in fiery orange above the staircase that lead somewhere under the building, into a shady little underground bar. Before going down, I glanced the men who hung out by the roadside giving out leaflets, trying to lure customers into their little trap. They promised luxury but what I saw inside was cheap façade of something dirty and old.

There was a small stage at the back of the dimly lit space and a small bar counter on the left side. My gaze lingered on the worn out little sofas with dark wooden tables that had been arranged into little booths and I held in a snort after noticing the disco ball hanging above the stage. It’s as if I had traveled back in time somewhere to the 80’s and fair enough, the wall near the front door was covered in trot singer posters, advertising past, and upcoming shows.

Upcoming shows? Someone still listens to that crap? God...

“What business do you have here?” A tall, middle-aged man asked as he stopped in front of me. He was dressed in black slacks, white collar shirt, and purple vest – the waiter outfit. “Lady”, he added after looking me up and down.

“I have debts to pay.” I decided to go straight to the business because, frankly speaking, this waiter didn’t seem to be too excited about small talk nor was I.

“Oh…” His brows arched a bit but his face remained expressionless.

“They told me to meet the boss here, or whatever…”

“I see. Then wait a moment.”

“Okay…”

The waiter walked past the booths and disappeared through a door that was located next to the stage. Crossing my hands over my chest, I glanced around the empty bar, tapped my foot against the floor, sighed and groaned inwardly. He sure is taking his sweet time doing whatever he is doing behind that stage. Hearing a sound from behind, or rather somewhere above since the stairs continued inside the bar I glanced over my shoulder and saw a guy at the door. His messy blonde hair peeked from under the cap and the hood he had thrown over his head as if trying to hide from someone. His eyes were bright and his face round, very cute and youthful. He was probably younger than me, maybe 18 or 20. When our eyes met he froze like someone who has been caught doing something that he shouldn’t have been doing.

“Um… Nuna, why are you here?” he asked out of the blue, still frozen at the doorway.

“Excuse me, do I know you?”

“You shouldn’t be here”, he said or rather whispered, hastily as if in a h