Mr. Lee barks, "What did I tell you about being nice?!"

"But grandpa," Jungwoo blushes and complains as he adjusts the strap of his backpack, "that girl is a - "

"An employee," Mr. Lee interrupts. "Now come here. Where were you? What took you so long? Hm?"

Jungwoo hangs his head, his whole, spiky demeanor changing into one of submission as he nears his grandfather. Plopping his backpack on the floor, he shoots you a glare before he explains, "I had to help my classmates with our club activities."

"You could have called," Mr. Lee says gruffly.

"You don't even have a phone," Jungwoo retorts. Mr. Lee harumphs at this and turns away. Unable to come up with a good excuse, he directs his attention to you. Jungwoo gives you a bland stare as you fidget underneath his piercing look. Flashbacks of all he's done to you fill your mind - from throwing that paper at your back to calling you names in the hallway - and your anger simmers just below the surface, waiting to boil.

"Are you serious about hiring her?" Jungwoo asks, eyeing you condescendingly. You take a deep breath and watch as Mr. Lee glowers at Jungwoo, who clears his throat and looks away.

"I thought you said you wanted another employee around here."

"I didn't mean her," Jungwoo states. "Do you even know who she is?" He interrogates, frustrated. "She's a - "

"An employee," Mr. Lee interrupts yet again. "And nothing more."

His words strike a chord in you that you hadn't wanted to acknowledge. It pleases you that this old man could care less what you are, but his stating what you aren't hurts your ego ... that is, what's left of it.

"You're going to help her train. I have a meeting to go." Mr. Lee grabs a floppy hat off one of the shelves and drops it on his head before he slips on a faded brown jacket with large, brass buttons. "You treat her nice, now. You're the one who wanted this," he warns, and before Jungwoo can say anything back, Mr. Lee has sped out of the clock shop, leaving you alone with this irresponsible tyrant.

After a bit of awkward silence, you slowly turn to Jungwoo, who has already taken advantage of the brief silence to seat himself on the stool behind the counter. With his school books disarranged on the shop counter, he does his homework, obviously ignoring you as you stare at him. It's not that you're expecting him to do something, but you don't know what to do with yourself, either, and having him brush you off like a stupid gnat is making you annoyed.

You open your mouth to say something, but Jungwoo beats you to it. "Do what you want. Leave, or whatever. I have nothing to teach you." He continues to scribble notes into his notebook, forcing his eyes to train on the paper in front of him.

Feeling reckless, you ask suddenly, "What did I ever do to you?"

He looks up then, his gaze filled with so much hate that you take an involuntary step back. "You're really asking me that? As if you don't know? Really? I - " he stops himself and shakes his head. "You don't need to know. You never needed to know before, and you don't need to know now."

"I've never even met you before," you state, wanting to understand why he directs so much ill-intent to you. "And you just ... all of a sudden, when I'm no longer what I used to be, you bully me? I honestly ... what did I ever do to you?" Trying to make him listen to you, you raise your voice. "Why on earth are you so mean to me?"

You don't like the way those words are phrased, but before you can take them back, he sneers. "You really are such a queen," he spits out. "I bet you were so used to the good life, huh? Well, some of us aren't. Some of us aren't used to that. You don't have to shove it in our faces."

"I never shoved anyt - "

"You just keep on living high and mighty like nothing ever happened to you. Just keep doing that," he continues. "Act like you're better than the rest of us."

Completely furious, you burst out, "You want me to be unhappy? Is that it? You want me to keep living like I've got nothing, is that what you want?" Your shoulders heave with exertion as you search his eyes for answers. He holds your gaze for a moment, just enough to make you regret your words.

"Yeah. That's what I want."

Your resolve crumbles, and he turns back to his homework, finished with this petty conversation. You can't say anything anymore. There's nothing left to say. You clench your fist and stare at the ground, trying to gather what little dignity you have left.

"Go home," he says quietly. You wait for him to add something more demeaning, but he doesn't. Insulted and tired, you step away and leave him in his miserable wake.

"Fine," you say, pulling the front door violently open, "I will."