Sunmi POV

As much as I hate to admit it, that conceited rich boy really helped me out. It was hard swallowing my pride and taking his money, but I honestly had no other choice.

The thought of sleeping behind a club wasn’t too pleasant anyway.

I’m able to take a long, hot bath at the saunas, and then eat a substantial meal for the first time in a week. After that I decide to splurge on a full-body massage to relieve my tension. Hey, it’s that guy’s money, not mine, so I have no qualms spending it. I emerge from the massage feeling cracked and unknotted. Perfect.

Finally, I lie down on a comfortable futon. I have a big day ahead of me, and it’s best to get as much sleep as I can. 

It’s almost midnight and I have to get up at 6 to get ready, but hey, I survived the 5 days before 11^th grade exams on only 2 hours of sleep. It’s been 3 years since then, but I still retain the ability to pull all-nighter and only act partially zombie-like the next day.

A piercing shrieking noise blares in my ear.

I groggily fumble around until I locate my cell phone and hastily turn off the alarm.

This is it. Today is the day of my final interview for the position of SPAZ’s chef.

I make a “fighting!” fist and whisper to myself, “Go knock ‘em out, Sunmi.”

After bathing and dressing in one of the only pairs of clean clothes I brought, I hurry to the sauna kitchens.

“Excuse me,” I say to a pudgy, short-haired woman who is wiping a bowl, “may I use this kitchen for an hour or so? I'm just going to make something small. I won't make a mess, I promise.”

She shrugs and nods, and I quickly set to work on making the sesame seed cookies my aunt taught me how to make ages ago. It’s a simple, easy dish, and after packing the cookies away in a Ziploc bag I find sitting on the countertop, I hurry out of the kitchen and grab my belongings.

A few minutes later I am out on the bustling streets of Seoul, heading towards 53 Tehrano: SPAZ’s home address.

When I locate the brass numbers that read "53", my eyebrows immediately shoot up. Tehrano Street is filled with posh, luxurious mansions (partially hidden by lush greenery and equipped with state-of-the-art surveillance technology), but seriously; this has got to be the biggest mansion of them all.

I tentatively ring the gold-plated doorbell placed on the side of the black gate. 

"Who is it?” a smooth voice asks from an intercom.

“Uh, my name’s Han Sunmi. I’m one of the applicants for the head chef position…?”

A click! comes from the door and it opens by itself. I nod, impressed.

Electronic gates. How fancy.

After I walk up the long pathway to the mansion, I knock on the door to the house. Oh my gosh, I can hear the sound of my knock resonating through the house. My palms start to get sweaty and my stomach churns uncomfortably.

What if I don’t make it? What if I get rejected? What if SPAZ picks someone else?

The door opens before I have a chance to initiate a major freak-out session.

“Come in, come in!” A friendly, slightly stocky man wearing a casual Polo shirt and shorts holds out his hand, beaming widely.

It’s SPAZ.

My face turns a flustered shade of red and I bow repeatedly. “Hi, it’s such an honor to-,”

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he laughs. “Just come on in. Oh, is that something?” he asks, spotting the plastic baggie full of cookies dangling from my hand.

“Yes, I actually prepared sesame seed cookies for you.” I hand over the bag to him. “I hope you like it!”

SPAZ removes a round cookie from the Ziploc and munches on it. After a few seconds his face lights up in delight. “Oh, this is good! You are a good chef!”

My interview’s off to a good start. Score one for Sunmi.

“So tell me about yourself,” SPAZ says, leading me into a spacious, high-ceilinged living room filled with plushy sofas and draped curtains. “What inspired you to apply for this position?”

I launch into my pre-prepared monologue about how I learned cooking from my aunt years ago and developed it as a side hobby, how I would like to study English Literature and become a Lit professor, why I would like to accompany him on his world tour as a chef.

I leave out the part about how I ran away from home and I’m not supposed to be here right now, though. Something tells me it’s not the best idea to mention that.

I barely know the guy. There's no need to freak him out. 

SPAZ and I are in the middle of discussing my favorite types of foods to cook when the door slams open.

“Hey, Dad, Mom wanted to ask you where the other suitcase was,” a tall, handsome male asks in a casual, drawling voice.

Wait a minute.

No way.

I know this tall, handsome male.

He- he's the guy from yesterday night. The one who gave me money to stay at the sauna. 

The man glances at me for a split-second then does a double take. Both of our jaws drop in unison.

“You?!” we shriek.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. My End of Course Exams, AP Exams, and final exams are all going to be in the next 2 weeks. I'm all stressed and my teachers are still packing on the homework and I hate everything

WISH ME LUCK PLEASE I NEED IT

Source for the picture is kaeseul :)