Lee Eunri:

I rubbed my temples at the new assignment I received lying on the desk. I threw the navy blue folder I was just checking and stood up. I resisted the urge to smoke and picked up a bottle of Brandy instead. The warm liquid flowed down my throat and warmed my uncomfortable stomach.

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and sat down again. My head turned instinctively towards the translucent glass door as Ms. Park, my secretary knocked and entered my private office.

She was fairly efficient and does not pry into my personal matters. She was patient as well, I had scolded her once for messing up one of my appointments and I showed no mercy. She listened to my every word and corrected her mistakes. Up till now, I am still highly amazed at her level of tolerance for having such a y boss.

“Director Lee, it seems like we have a problem.” She was about two years younger than I was, her straight-to-the-point tone did not match with her cute baby face features. I nodded for her to proceed.

“The meeting scheduled with the CEO of Kim Electronics has been delayed due to current information about his late arrival in Korea. The timing given by his secretary has clashed with the lunch appointment set this afternoon at 2pm with the Minister. How would you like to proceed Ms.?” She questioned and pushed up her red-framed spectacles up the bride of her tiny nose.

Stupid, damn son-of-a-late-, I cursed vehemently in my mind.

“Put me on the phone with him.”

“He’s currently in the plane Ms.,”

“Just put me on the damn phone with that ed up .” I demanded.

She quickly obliged and phoned him immediately. She said a few words and passed the black mobile to me.

“I am only going to say this once. Either come on time or don’t schedule anything with me. If you are late, cancel one month before and no later are we clear? This is the last time Lee Corporations is ever doing business with you. Good bye.”

The phone disconnected with a ‘beep’ and I threw the Samsung note back into Juri’s hands. She barely caught it, bowed then walked out of my office.

I busied myself with other papers and work before receiving a notice that my car was ready and it was already 1.30pm. I shut down my MacBook Air on the table and turned off the two screens beside it.

I kicked off my comfortable pear of Roxy slippers and slipped back into my black stilettos. I grabbed my purse off the desk and strutted out of the door. I don’t hate my job; I just find it meddlesome to deal with people who come with it.

The doorman opened the door of my black and slim Audi before shutting it and quickly backing away. I zoomed off without a care about how fast I was going. I reached the meeting place at a hotel five minutes before the scheduled time.

I tossed my car keys to one of the men who worked there and took my time strolling in. I sat down in a café, kicked off my horrid shoes and ordered a hot cappuccino.

From the corner of my eye I noticed an odd figure loitering outside of the hotel. He was clearly not dressed to impress and he seemed lost and uneasy. I was distracted when the chair across mine moved as the Minister of General Affairs sat down and began speaking.

It went fairly well in my opinion and I was glad that the whole ordeal was over. He kept bringing up his son and how he needed a worthy companion. He was an old man with not much time to spare. I told him straight in the face that I was not interested in his personal affairs and told him off for mentioning it to me.

He was appalled but I was exhausted and bored so too bad for him to be dealing with someone as pricked as myself.

I clocked off only at 1am in the morning. I loved my job and every part of how demanding it was. I suppressed a yawn and drove home at once.

The huge mansion was eerily silent and dark. My heels clicked loudly on the marble staircase as I climbed up and went into my room. There was a soft knock when I was taking a shower so I stepped out only wearing a white robe.  

. Or should I call her by her name recognized by the law? Mother. How foreign that word was.

In the end I said nothing. Her eyes wide with innocence and concern looked me over and asked about my day. I couldn’t help it. I scoffed boldly at her.

“You ask me about my day, Mother? It was fantastic without you in it. How was Europe with Father? Joyous without me wasn’t it? I hate you. Do not stay up to cut fruit for me ever again. It’s pathetic. Good night.” I spat.

I turned around and continued my bath. When I came out, thankfully, she was gone. The bowl of neatly arranged fruit was still sitting on my bed. The nerve that woman had.

I grabbed it, stomped downstairs and threw it into the refrigerator. It was all just a show and I was not as naïve as before to believe it. The clock read 2.30am in the morning. I gulped down a glass of water before heading upstairs again. I don’t feel like sleeping anymore.

I rummaged my purse for some papers and tried to straighten the crumples the best I could. I began work, again.

I checked my bedside clock for the time again, 4.30am, I guess it was time for bed. I drank my pills and jabbed a new amount of insulin into my blood. I felt nauseous and awful but it was only a customary procedure to be followed.

I closed my eyes and only fell asleep one and a half hours later. I checked my alarm one last time – it was supposed to ring at 6am – and truly fell asleep.