Sunmi POV

I’m at one of the largest, fanciest clubs in Gangnam, the beat of the throbbing music pounding in my ears, the laughter of conversation of late-night party goers filling the air, strobe lights flashing everywhere.

Oh, sorry, did you think I was inside the club?

No, I’m currently crouched near the back exit, huddled under a blanket and shivering slightly.

You see, when you run away from your parents and you barely have any money, you can’t really afford a nice hotel. Heck, you can’t even afford a decent meal, for crying out loud.

But I don’t regret running away for a single moment.

As I sit in the cold, slowly chewing on a tasty ddukbeoki I bought a few hours ago, I’ve never been happier in my life.

I’m free.

I’m finally free.

"Sunmi, what is this?” my father growled as he held up a paper, his hands shaking from anger.

86, the paper reads in blaring red numbers.

I wince. I was exhausted the day of that test. I had stayed up till 3 in the morning finishing off an extra-credit assignment for my Physics class; which resulted in the 86 I earned on my math test. 

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "It won't happen again-,"

"Sorry?!” my mother shrieked, spittle flying from . “’Sorry’ doesn’t cut it! Will ‘sorry’ get you into a good university? Will ‘sorry’ keep you off the streets?”

Tears welled in my eyes as I lowered my head in shame. “No,” I whisper. “I’ll do better, I promise.”

That’s it. You’ll have to face the consequences of this abysmal grade.” My father appraised me with cold, unforgiving eyes. “You’re not going to that luncheon tomorrow afternoon. You’re staying home and reviewing over these concepts, reworking these problems. And after that you should get started on the next lesson as well.”

"The luncheon? No, please, I have to go!” I shouted desperately. “I was invited to represent the school! It’s going to be so nice and I haven't gone out for so long-,”

"You should’ve thought of that before you got such a low grade,” my mother simpered in fake sympathy. “Be glad, now there’s a little less chance that you’ll end up in some dumpster in the slums, you ungrateful girl.”

The memories of old times cause my mood to dampen.

Tossing aside the empty ddukbeoki stick, I decide practice for my interview for SPAZ’s chef tomorrow. Yeah, SPAZ: the international superstar who blew up the music world by gaining billions of views on his music video, Oppa Type. He’s regarded as one of the funniest men in the world with his catchy dances and awesome randomness.

SPAZ is super cool. 

And only a few days after he released his last M/V and song, Good Man, a commercial announcing a new position open for SPAZ’s chef was aired on TV (click to watch the "commercial"). 

That 90-second commercial was the faint glimmer of hope in my otherwise lousy life. It made me think, What if I just screwed it all, all the pressure and the high expectations, and went and became SPAZ's chef? 

Most importantly, there's a $40,000 paycheck, which I can use to pay for college. I want to study English Literature and become a professor. That's been my dream since the 8th grade. 

But I didn't dare tell my parents. They would've laughed in my face, saying that a professor's salary would get me nowhere. 

I’ve risked everything to run away from Busan and come here, to Seoul, just for one job.

I have to get this chef position.

If I don’t, then I don’t know what’ll happen next.

I’m in the middle of rehearsing my introduction speech when suddenly, I hear disgusting smacking noises getting closer and closer to me. Looking up, I am faced with a disgusting sight: a couple is kissing, their tongues stuck down each other’s throats.

I quickly repress the urge to hurl my ddeukboki. 

“Jongdae…,” the girl whispers as she slithers her hand up his shirt.

“I’m right here, baby,” the guy- Jongdae, I’m assuming- groans.

I attempt to stick my fingers in my ears and ignore them. Who hooks up outside of a club? That’s disgusting. Don’t these people have anything better to do than this?

They’re still smooching like there's no tomorrow.

I can’t take this anymore.

“Excuse me,” I snap, “can you two go somewhere else? I’m trying to study.”

The two detach from each other with a loud pop! 

“What’s your problem? Why are you studying here anyway?” the girl asks snarkily.

“Why are you kissing here?” I reply, annoyed.

The girl smirks. “Jongdae wanted some place more… private. So we came here.” She trails her pointer finger down his face and giggles.

“If you want ‘private’, get a freaking room. You can waste your money partying, so I'm sure you can waste it on a hotel as well.” 

The girl splutters in shock. "You-you-you- whatever!" She whirls around and grabs Jongdae's hand. "Let's go, Jongdae."

"You go ahead," he speaks in a smooth, calm voice. "I want to talk to this girl first." 

Oh, peachy. 

A/N: How did y'all like the first chapter? I EAT UP COMMENTS LIKE I EAT UP COOKIES THERE ARE NEVER ENOUGH FOR ME SO COMMENT PLEASE TO FEED MY INSATIABLE HUNGER FOR YOUR WORDS