She has a compulsive habit of throwing herself into something to help strangers.

Not that I’m condemning her for it. I just don’t understand why a person would want to help someone, especially with the possibility of harm.

But then, when I look into her eyes, all I want to do is to be saved.

Such irony.

Three weeks.

That was how long it took for the letter to arrive.

Sun Young hadn’t expected anything, but when she had passed the mailbox on the way out, she paused and stared at it.

Maybe I should check it today.

Who knows, the bills could have arrived; I can just settle it after work or pay for it online.

She walked towards the mailbox, frowning slightly as she opened it. True enough, there was a white envelope, and she brightened, taking it in her hands as she flipped it over.

Park Sun Young.

It didn’t look like it was from the mobile service provider, and the bills were always in her mother’s name. This was a different letter altogether, and it wasn’t every day that she didn’t receive a mysterious envelope which had no return address.

A bout of happiness went through her.

You shouldn’t be so happy, it’s not as if someone wrote a long love letter for you.

However, before she could tear it open, she heard the distant rumbling of the bus and gasped, slamming the mailbox shut and hurrying towards the bus stop outside, reaching it just in time to scramble aboard.

She dropped into her favorite seat by the window, looking down at the letter and smiling to herself as she proceeded to open it.

She frowned, unfolding the single piece of paper inside, and her eyes scanned the contents, feeling suspicious all of a sudden.

Dear Miss Park Sun Young,

We are pleased to inform you that we have received your application and are looking forward to an interview with you regarding your participation of the show.

“What?” she murmured.

Due to the overwhelming response, we will be conducting in-depth interviews with all candidates and ask that you join us on one of the dates below.

She spotted a long list of dates and timings, as well as procedures on how to reserve a spot.

What’s going on? What…interview?

She continued reading.

Because of the nature of the auditions and necessity to ensure that participants will blend seamlessly into the show, we may ask questions that might be deemed sensitive; however, we will ensure strict confidentiality and interviewees have a right to refuse to answer if they so wish.

There will be cash prizes for the top ten finalists, up to one million won for the second and third runner ups, not to mention possible sponsorships should you choose to sign a contract with Channel M.

We look forward to seeing you. Good luck!

Kim Taeyeon,
Producer for Channel M’s The Princess Games.

Sun Young reread the letter.

She reread the letter again.

This can’t be right, she told herself. Had I applied? How? When?

Nonsense.

I didn’t even want to join the show. There must be some kind of mistake.

But how would they know my name, and my address too?

She reached for her phone, searching her browser history for any evidence that could have shown that she had, indeed, applied for participation.

To her relief, there was none.

Surely Sooyeon didn’t sign up for me?

No. She gave me her newspaper, and she couldn’t have gone to the trouble of looking up my employment records for my personal details; she can’t even bring herself to look through the ordering catalogue.

At that moment, she noticed that her mother had left a message for her, and she clicked on the text message icon.

Have a good day at work, sweetheart! Maybe we can go to Mrs Hwang’s for dinner tonight; I’ve been craving barbecue beef all week! :DDDD

She was about to reply when it all clicked in place.

Her heart fell, feeling stabbed by the betrayal as she groaned, leaning back against the seat as her body deflated in dread.

You are so dead, Eomma.

So dead.

Sun Young got off the bus, her face like a stormy thundercloud as she stomped up the inclined path towards the flower shop.

It had rained the whole night, and the ground still had traces of puddles on the concrete, which she stepped on without hesitance as her shoes slapped against water.

She didn’t care.

She was mad.

She was very mad.

Uttering little hisses of words under her breath, she almost hadn’t heard that someone was calling her name until a broom waved in front of her face.

She squealed, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Mrs Hwang, who was staring at her most curiously.

“Aigoo, this girl!” she said loudly, “What is so important in your head that you look like you’re about to cause a rampage?”

Sun Young clutched her heart, which was pounding most rapidly. She eyed the broom with mild nervousness as she met Mrs Hwang’s hawk-like gaze. “I’m not about to cause a rampage.”

“Well, you look it, girlie. Either that, or you’re plotting some evil revenge.”

Now, that she could agree to.

But no way was she about to admit it to the fierce ahjumma; she would never hear the end of it.

“Hurry, now, what is it that you’re so angry about that you didn’t hear me bid you good morning?”

Sun Young quickly bowed. “Sorry,” she mumbled, the blazing fire of irritation inside her heart dying into embers, “It’s nothing. Just…nothing.”

“Your ‘nothing’ sounds like the time my son said he did nothing and ended up having a secret family in China.”

Sun Young’s throat went dry as she fidgeted under the old lady’s scrutiny. “It’s nothing, honest,” she insisted, “Alright, fine, I was just thinking about the reality show – you remember, don’t you? We talked about it yesterday, the man and his group of female participants in the reality show – and then I was thinking of my mother and I guess I was too absorbed.”

Mrs Hwang shook her head in disapproval, clearly judging. “Ahem, how can something like that be so distracting?” she only said, resuming her task of sweeping outside the barbecue shop, “Speaking of men, have you seen Zitao yet?”

Sun Young felt her insides shrivel up. “Not really, but I have to start my shift soon-“

“ZITAO!”

“-and I’m always arriving early,” she finished lamely, as she spotted a figure walking inside the restaurant.

Yippee. Time to be acquainted against my wishes.

No offence to her grandson though. I’m sure he’s a nice person.

A tall, gangly youth appeared, running his hand through his jet-black hair. “Yes, Grandma, you don’t have to shout, I can hear you from the-“

His eyes fell on Sun Young, the begrudging tone in his voice disappearing as he offered her a hasty bow. “H-Hi.”

Sun Young gulped, returning his bow awkwardly. “Hello…again.”

Their gaze broke, both looking away.

Zitao, for all he was worth, was not a repulsive human being. He was tall and lithe, and his face had sharp angles in all the right places. He had large catlike eyes, with what seemed to be permanent dark circles, and his thin lips were always pressed into a line whenever he saw her.

Sun Young had not always been hesitant and awkward around him.

She had been positioning the potted plants outside Bloom & Blossom with Soojung and had caught him staring at her from his grandmother’s restaurant.

When she had waved at him, he had immediately blushed and ran back inside, leaving her perplexed.

Needless to say, they never interacted again.

Now, the young man glanced at Mrs Hwang, who was staring at them both with a mixture of amusement and triumph. “You remember this girl, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t hear you.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, Grandma.”

“Her name is Sun Young, and she works at the flower shop five stores down.”

He nodded again.

“If you want to buy your carnations, go to her shop. Understand?”

“Yes, Grandma.”

Sun Young stared at Mrs Hwang.

She’s talking like I’m not here.

“Now, take this. Why should I sweep when you’re young and strong?” the old lady said, shoving the broom at him. He caught it, surprised, as his grandmother walked towards the restaurant, muttering under her breath.

Sun Young glanced at Zitao, who looked at least two shades lighter as he held onto the broom for dear life, and realized the old lady’s sneaky plan of leaving them alone.

She cleared , sounding like Mrs Hwang herself, and put on a smile on her face despite the awkwardness of the situation. “Well, Zitao, it was nice seeing you.”

Before we get even more awkward, I’ll take the easy way out and leave first.

He returned the smile, looking very much like he was having a bout of diarrhoea. “Y-you too.”

“I’ll head over to work now.”

He nodded, and she gave a little wave as she continued – at a faster speed – towards the flower shop.

However, just a store before Bloom & Blossom, where the café was, she spotted Soojung, talking with the suited man who had dropped by weeks ago.

Her friend’s back was to her, which was why she hadn’t spotted her coming, and by the looks of the suited man, they were probably having an intense conversation. One that she didn’t want to interrupt.

But she couldn’t very well stand here in the middle of the street.

Sun Young glanced around, before randomly sitting at one of the empty tables outside the café. She stared discreetly at the pair, wondering what they were up to.

Sooyeon’s words echoed at the back of her mind, and she found herself wondering what she had meant, despite having a general idea.

“Noona?”

She jumped, startled. “Gosh, Jongin, you scared me!” she cried, glancing up at the dark-haired barista next door.

He gave her an amicable smile as he sat down in the opposite chair. “What are you looking at?” he inquired, about to turn.

Sun Young reached out, holding his chin before he did.

Soojung did tell me that she’s currently in a relationship.

I always asked with who, and she always says with someone closer than I think, and that if her sister knew, she would go to the boy and tell him to run for his life.

Seeing as this mysterious Yixing isn’t her significant other, I shall assume Jongin is, and protect him from anything that might drive a wedge between himself and Soojung.

“Has the university acceptance letter arrived yet?” she asked, changing the subject, and Jongin brightened.

“Yes,” he said, leaning forwards and drumming his finger on the table, “I’m taking the Bachelor’s degree in Performing Arts this coming semester.”

Sun Young clapped. “That’s great!” she said happily, “See, I told you, they’d be fools to reject your application.”

Jongin gave a dismissive wave, flattered by her praise. “I’m just glad I got in. I might see you when I walk around school,” he said, letting out a little laugh, “You’ll have to give me a tour.”

She gave him a thumbs-up. “Of course I will, a senior always has to help out the freshmen! I’ll give you a better orientation than the one they’ll organize.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Soojung alone, facing the flowers. Yixing was gone.

She glanced at her watch, with one minute to spare before her shift began.

“I’ll go clock in now, Jongin,” she said, getting to her feet, “I’ll drop by during lunch and we can talk more, yeah?”

“Sure, noona. We’re literally next door.”

She chuckled, reaching forward and ruffling up his hair before bidding him goodbye and walking towards the flower shop, making sure to look extra cheerful and not as if she had been subtly observing the exchange with Yixing.

“Hey, Soojung!” she bid brightly, and her friend looked up, revealing a tear-streaked face.

Sun Young stopped, her eyes widening. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do: act oblivious or act worried. Soojung prided herself on her aloof exterior, which betrayed no emotion but confidence and confidence alone; every instance where she had tried to offer her friend a hug or concern had been pushed away, which was why she was hesitating now.

Either way she couldn’t show that she – partly – knew the reason behind her friend’s tears.

It turned out that Soojung didn’t need any convincing; she had immediately put an end to Sun Young’s curiosity, more than willing to share the nature of her relationship with the desperate suited man called Yixing.

“It wasn’t supposed to be serious, but he really thought I was going to be with him forever or something,” she said, arranging the different-colored hibiscus flowers on the worktable as they sat in the backroom, t flowers, “I thought it was just casual dating, you know? I mean, I’m only twenty-one, I’ve got the whole world in front of me. There’s a ton of fish in the sea, all that crap.”

Sun Young wanted to point out that she herself actually was only a year older, but she didn’t share such liberal views. Instead she pressed her lips together, reaching to untangle one of the morning glory vines which had tangled up with another. “So what happened?”

Soojung’s smile was grim. “I was out with another guy and he saw us. He literally looked so heartbroken, like it was the end of the world.”

Sun Young didn't say anything.

Soojung looked at her sharply. “Before you think it, yes, I regret being so careless. I shouldn’t have two-timed the guy.”

Sun Young shrugged. “I’m not saying anything.”

Soojung narrowed her eyes. “You might as well. I can see the judgement in your eyes. You think I’m some kind of player, don’t you?”

“You did play him, Soojung.”

She sighed. “True that.”

“He seemed pretty heartbroken that time when he came, and still in love with you.”

Soojung’s face fell. “I told him he’ll find a nice girl someday,” she said, quiet, “And he’ll learn to forget me, you know, melodramatic people say when they want to make excuses for themselves.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he wants to propose to his fiancée but he can’t because he’s not over me.”

Sun Young’s eyes widened at those words. “Ouch.”

“Now I’m miserable as heck,” Soojung said, covering her face with her hands, “Don’t tell my sister. She’ll kill me. I’ve ruined someone’s life.”

Before she could reply, a shadow fell over them, revealing a very disapproving-faced Sooyeon. “Sun Young doesn’t have to tell me anything,” she said, folding her arms over her floral blouse, “Jung Soojung, you are grounded for as long as you breathe.”

“Unnie! Were you eavesdropping the whole time?”

“Of course. I hear your voices but I don’t see your faces. Something is up. And thanks to you, I know why,” she said, “Get inside. You’ll be sitting at the table the whole day today, I suggest you get started now.”

Soojung got to her feet. “I don’t want to!” she practically wailed.

“Get your on that stool. I’m sure Mr. Son will be calling soon as he always does.”

“I ain’t talking with some stuffy, snivelling dude-“

“Get in. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

“Unnie!”

Sooyeon ignored her, offering an amiable smile at Sun Young. “I trust you’ll be able to take over her tasks, my little daisy?” she asked, “I can take over the flower packing from you.”

“Yes, Miss Jung.”

“Great! Everything is settled,” she said, placing an arm around her shoulder, leaving Soojung staring after them.

“This is injustice!”

“What is injustice is you and that poor man you ruined,” Sooyeon said behind her shoulder, “I officially adopt Sun Young as my sister.”

“You can’t adopt siblings!”

“Watch me, Soojung.”

It was raining sheets outside, plunging the city into a state of semi-darkness as Park Chanyeol reached for his shirt, which hung on the doorknob.

He went to the bedroom, glancing inside to see Baekhyun sleeping in a weird position; half his body was dangling off the bed, while the other half barely hung on.

He stood at the door, shaking his head to himself as he buttoned up his shirt, wondering how long it would take for his friend to drop to the ground.

He had woken up prematurely, before the sun even rose; his sleep had been fitful, full of dreams he couldn’t make out.

He had heard the girl’s voice again inside his head, her panicked voice at the fringes of his consciousness when he had woken up earlier, so it was obvious who and what he had been dreaming about.

But he didn’t linger on it.

Since he was awake, he had taken the opportunity to start on today’s work. He was to visit the kitchens today and go over this month’s promotional menu with the gourmet staff. That would take up a lot of time, considering he would be doing some actual cooking and making sure his culinary training was put to good use.

He crossed the room, walking into the spacious wardrobe and heading to the drawers at the far corner to find a suitable tie.

Not that I need to take a long time to choose.

There’s only black, grey or red, and I usually pick black.

He took a burgundy one, slinging it around his neck, making short work of it as he stood in front of the built-in dresser.

He didn’t know why he wanted to seem a little dressed up today. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to being in the kitchens; for one thing, it was his father’s favorite place, who had initially been a Head Chef. Maybe that was why he strove for perfection in every way, personally supervising the staff and giving criticism and honor that allowed them to progress and grow.

Chanyeol wasn’t fond of the technique; being publicly criticised wasn’t his cup of tea, and wherever possible, he maintained anonymity when dealing with staff who were underperforming, as well as giving praise just as modestly.

That was