Y O O N A

There weren’t so much people at the bookstore that day so instead of closing at five in the afternoon, our manager decided to let us off at three. I rushed home immediately, looking forward to at least an hour to myself, watching my favorite dramas. But guess who greeted me at home?

The most annoying, demanding, lazy bum in the world.

Yoseob -  my brother.

He was sitting at the dining table. In front of him were stacks of paper, a calculator and a fat textbook.

“Yoong!” he called out, without so much of a hello. “We ran out of Colombian coffee again and I’m sleepy. Can you please go to Universal Market and buy me some?”

I scoffed at him. “I’m not your maid, Yoseob. Go buy them yourself. And by the way, who told you that you can have coffee this late in the evening? Are you planning to sleep?”

“Yoong,” Yoseob whined. He dramatically dropped the pencil he was holding in one hand and looked up at me with puppy eyes. “I have a quiz tomorrow and I need to stay up late to study. Please get me some coffee. Pretty please, with sugar on top?”

I glared at him for a while – glared angrily at his pleading eyes.  But instead of cringing, the freak continued looking up at me with those gigantic eyes. Then, he did the unthinkable.

He pouted his lips.

“Alright, alright! Stop doing that! I’m going!” I exclaimed pushing him away.  I wondered when exactly Yoseob became immune to my death glare.

“Yay! Thank you! ” He happily clapped his hands and went back to work.  

I heaved a sigh as I put on a sweater and pulled down my cap. Things couldn’t get any worse than this. Right?

Wrong.

Because right when I was paying at the cashier at Universal Market, guess who decided to show up like an unwanted ghost?

Carrot-head.

His head popped right at me, causing me to jump back. I guess that’s one of the advantages of being tall. You can just pop out at someone like a deranged ostrich.

“Hi,” he grinned sheepishly.

I forced a smile and nodded back, then as quickly as possible, I paid the cashier, grabbed the plastic bag and dashed out of there. I even glanced repetitively at my watch to make myself look extremely busy and running out of time. But did he get the message?

Nope.

Carrot-top caught up to me effortlessly. He stepped in front of me and stayed there, grinning as widely as before. I guess that’s another advantage of being tall. You can run fast.

“Do you need anything?” I asked directly, still glancing impatiently at my wrist watch every now and then.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said.

“You’re welcome!” I smiled and took a step forward, ready to bolt of there. I’m busy, I have to go now.

But did he get the message?

Nope.

Carrot-hair stepped in front of me, completely blocking my way. “Can I ask your help?”

“Oh sure,” I replied. This time, I allowed the smile to fade from my face. I tried to look as rushed and annoyed as possible.  Hurry! Are you going to ask for directions again? Make it quick!

But did he get the message?

Never.

“I…uh…I…” He stammered, paused and stood there for ten long, agonizing seconds, rubbing his chin, probably looking for the right word. Meanwhile, I was trying as hard as possible to keep myself from bursting with pure frustration. Then, a thousand years later, he lit up like a light bulb and grinned at me again. “I need an interpreter.”

“Alright,” I said slowly, a bit confused. Maybe he was asking me if I knew anyone who could provide him professional interpreting services. Maybe he wanted to know where to go to get help. “Maybe you can look it up in the yellow book and –“

But the dude didn’t let me finish (which is very rude in Dokbayo, by the way).

“I want you to be my interpreter,” he announced, flashing his pearly whites.

WHAT?

I mean, really. He didn’t even ask my permission. He just declared it point blank that I was going to be his interpreter. He said it as if I had no choice.  This annoyed me greatly, of course.

The first thing that I wanted to do was to sock him in the face and scream, “NO! OF COURSE NOT! Who do you think you are?! Do you think I have time for fools like you?!”

But this foreigner may end up with the incorrect impression that Dokbayonese women were violent savages. Being the responsible citizen that I am, I forced out another smile (with great difficulty this time) and said, “What?”

“You,” he pointed at me.

“My,” he pointed at himself, “Interpreter.”

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Author’s Note: To everyone, thank you for subscribing and for the comments! I know I update fast but that’s because I enjoyed writing this fic so much.

I know Yoseob is older than Yoona but I find him perfect for the role of being her little brother. What do you think?

@SarangheMiyu – I don’t know if this fic will be as good as Star Witness, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.