One week later...

I pass an irritated hand through my hair and darted a murderous look on the human resources representative. How so that the building where I lived had been bought by a big company? How so that I had to move in their new apartment building, more than 30 minutes from the hospital? And what was this transfer to Children's Hospital of Seoul? Without even asking my opinion? And who said that it was a promotion and not relocation?

• 죄송해요 (Jwoisonghaeyo. I’m sorry) said the poor man, blushing under my eyes. 정말 죄송해요 (Jeongmal jwoisonghaeyo. I’m really sorry).

I sighed in frustration. Anyway, getting angry would not change the situation.

• 어디에 있습니까? (Eodie issseumnikka? Where it is?)

I took the address and hailed a cab to get to my new apartment. I had to admit: I was impressed. My apartment was located in one of the most luxurious neighborhoods of Seoul. Apparently, a lot of important people lived in the area. It was huge and very luxurious. Safety was also at another level. I collapsed on my bed, happy. After such a crappy week, I thought for the first time that perhaps coming to South Korea and my promotion was not such bad idea after all!

...I regretted this thought very, very quickly. Exactly three weeks later. The work itself was very tough, I was treated like an outsider in the hospital, it started because of my color - I was literally the only non-Asian in the establishment- and continue to degenerate because of Shin Wong Bin, my new boss, the Pediatric's department director.  He was very nice to me, ensuring that I lacked nothing, giving me a ride in the morning because there was no public transport near my new apartment (all the locals had a foreign car and I had to walk 20 minutes to find a bus stop), bringing me my breakfast, took his lunch with me and was driving me back at night, waiting for me, regardless of what time I finished. Wong Bin worked because he wanted because his parents were loaded. He had completely changed my view of the rich. Wong Bin was super nice. As he traveled a lot, he did not share the retrograde thought of his fellow compatriot. I was often discriminated against because of my color. I was not black strictly speaking, my skin was a beautiful caramel color, I had big brown eyes, a luscious mouth, a small nose and auburn, shoulder length hair.

I finally found out that Wong Bin was single and considered what we call a big fish. He was a 9th generation 재벌 (jaebeol. Conglomerate), one of the heirs of the Taerang Group and had a big part of the actions of the hospital. 

It went to the point where I received no more cases to deal with, the parents being a little leery because I was not Asian and nurses feeding their fears. Wong Bin of course flew to my rescue ... or he thought so. I was assigned to the case that nobody wanted:  the stalkers! The sasaeng paen! Those fans who pushed the cork too far in their love for K-pop idols. To have some kind of conversation with those girls and also those boys, I had to pass through their means of communication. K-pop. Idols. I found myself studying a lot more than for my PhD. There were over 500 idols in Korea and each of my patients was obsessed with at least three of them. I had to know everything about them: their real names, the names of their albums, the year of their debut, how long they spent in training, the name of their fan club, the color of their fan club, their birthday, their parent’s occupation, if they have brothers and sisters, how much, their birthday, if they have animals and many other unnecessary things.

I held a despairing sigh. But what the hell was going on with my life? My client today, Choi Eun Seol was late again, had missed school and should be following one of 29 idols that she loved. I could not even go looking for her because I had no idea where she was. I pulled her file and shook my head. Choi Eun Seol was obsessed with the 13 members of Super Junior, the 6 members of 2PM, the 3 members of JYJ, the 2 members of TVXQ and the 5 members of Bigbang.

Big Bang. G-Dragon. I shook my head to come back to reality.

Without telling Wong Bin, I dragged myself as best I could to my apartment. Of course, I got lost and made a 20 minutes ride in 1 hour. I was pissed as hell and pressed the elevator button with an angry finger. I had to wait at least 10 minutes, it was held in the basement. When it finally arrived, the acerbic retort that rose to my lips died in my throat. 세상에!! (Sesange. Oh my God!) Did I destroy a country in my past life? It was the only logical explanation that came to mind as I stared G-Dragon with round eyes. I cleared my throat and got ready to apologize for his bracelet when he interrupted me.

• 당신은 점점 아니에요? (Dansing eun jeomjeom anieyo? You’re not getting in?) 
• Euh....네. (Ne. Yes) 고맙습니다. (Gomabseubnida. Thank you). 

I got in the elevator, my heart beating like crazy. He had not recognized me.

• 저기요. 어떤바닥? (Jeogi yo. Eotteon badag? Excuse-me. Which floor?) 

I looked at the buttons and the 8th floor was already on.

• Thank you but I'm also going to the 8th floor ...당신은 권지용이맞아요? 빅뱅지-드래곤? (Dangsineun Kwon Ji Yong i maja yo? Big Bang Ji-Deuraegon? You are Kwon Ji Yong right? Big Bang G-Dragon?) I'm a...
• I know all the residents of the 8th floor and it's my the first time seeing you. Do you really live here Miss?

I opened my eyes wide. He doubted me? Well, I could understand but still!

• Yes ... I really live here.. 사실(Sasil. The truth), I just moved and we alrea…

Kwon Ji Yong got out the elevator without even letting me finish, as if I did not exist. I held him back by the sleeve.

• This is the 6th floor. We're not there yet.

He look at me, hostile

• You better go home. I'm sure your parents are worried about you. Concentrate on your studies instead of following me everywhere. I'm letting you go this time, but if I see you again, I'll call the police. 
• Kwon Ji Yong-ssi...

The elevator door closed upon me. I stood for a moment speechless, like an idiot. Did he mistake me for a sasaeng? So he did not recognized me. And what was he talking about? To go home? Of my parents ? I burst with an ironic laugh. Worried? Of course not. They thought my life was perfect and that I was living my way. I opened the door to my apartment and I went straight to bed. My life was very low now, I was sure it could not get worse.

..........Unfortunately, life undertook to prove to me that I was wrong. She could worsen, and by many. Starting with my work, instead of working as a psychologist, I found myself doing the work of social assistance: I was chasing after my clients, making sure that they were going to school, that they were well fed and that they went home at night. I bail them out of jail, took them to the hospital. Results: in one week, I counted less than 2 hours of sleep. My apartment should be my heaven, but unfortunately, Kwon Ji Yong gave the alert and each time I came, I had to prove to the doorman - who refused to recognize me - thay I indeed live in the building. Worse, every time I met Kwon Ji Yong, he turned pale as if he saw a ghost, and quickly changed direction. Shin Wong Bin, my only friend, left for Japan for a conference for a week. Although he makes a point to call me every day, I missed him terribly, I was having lunch alone and sarcasm and jokes about blacks rang out on my way.

And that's how my first month in my new apartment and work went by.  I really wondered if I was going to be able to keep this pace for a year. I lost 8 kilos and had learned to sleep with my eyes open. I got out of the bus before my stop. I wanted to sit in the park not far from my building to relax a little. Ten minutes later, I came back running and crying. It was really too much. Pigeons just attacked me. I officially hated South Korea. The elevator arrived and Kwon Ji Yong was there. I stiffened in anticipation of his cruel eyes but nothing came. After closer look, I saw that he was asleep. I got in and lightly wiped my tears. The poor, he must be dying of fatigue to sleep standing, leaning against the wall. I gently shook him when we reached the 8th floor.

• Kwon Ji Yong-ssi... Ji Yong-ssi... 

No answer. He was sleeping deeply. I bit my fingernail. I could not possibly leave him there. If a true sasaeng came, he would be in trouble. Maybe I should call someone. The security guards? No. I should not forget that he was a star and photos could harm him. Maybe should I call his manager? Or his friends? I looked at him and decided it was the best solution and that would be a way to repay him for the bracelet that he had so graciously forgotten. I had to find his cell. I opened his jacket and patted his chest gently. No, not there. Perhaps in his pockets? I patted the pockets of his jeans, still nothing. I slid my hand gently in his back pockets and my hand met something. I lean a little more for better access, one hand still on his chest.

• 당신은 뭐 해요? (Dangsineun mwohae yo? What the hell are you doing?)