Dear Kim Yong Sun:

Congratulations on your acceptance into the Educational Counseling Master of Science (MS) Program at Seoul National University’s College of Education.

Disbelief. Shock.

What she wanted to do was scream and cry. What she did was sit at her desk, both elbows propped up, hands covering , remaining as silent as possible. The office was empty, as expected of a Friday afternoon with half an hour until five p.m. Two of her three officemates had already left for the weekend and the third, her supervisor, was probably upstairs socializing with the Communications department. Yongsun sat at her desk, alone and at a loss for words.

To say that the past year had been a trying one would be an understatement. After graduating last spring, Yongsun refused to move back to her hometown. She loved her family—everything that she did was to ease their burden and make them proud—but they did not understand her and her ambitions at all. The first in the family to go to college, Yongsun often viewed this accomplishment as an inconvenience. Everyone viewed her as “gifted,” the one with all the answers. She was capable of excelling in the classroom, yes, but there were many opportunities that she missed out on because no one around her alerted her to their existence. They themselves were unaware. Yongsun struggled through the application process for undergraduate programs and barely met financial aid deadlines; the extensive list of scholarships and grants made for students like her: those coming from working class families, those with the passion and demonstrated talent for writing, first-generation college students, went unbeknownst to her. Instead of refund checks, socializing, and enjoying free time, she graduated having worked three jobs each semester. The list of ways in which being the first in the family set her back was endless. Still, she graduated and her parents were none the wiser about her struggles; thanks to her hard work, they never had to pay a cent for her education and the additional expenses that came along with it. Her room was never lavishly decorated, and she had to be crafty about acquiring the obscenely expensive textbooks and course codes that each class required, but she graduated. That in itself was an accomplishment.

The months leading to graduation, Yongsun’s classmates uploaded post upon post on social media announcing their next steps: graduate and medical schools; highly coveted and high-paying consulting jobs; service work overseas; engagements. There she was, once again, feeling less than. Graduating from one of the country’s most elite institutions, yet she felt like a bum. Conversations with her parents, unbeknownst to them, helped only to confirm that feeling.

“What kind of jobs can you get with a degree in history?” she remembers her mother asking her one day, having called unexpectedly.

“Lots of jobs,” Yongsun responded, expertly navigating through the overpopulated campus paths full of students that had recently been set free from their afternoon classes. With the dining hall a few feet away, she was ready to say whatever it took to get off the call as soon as possible.

“Can you make money with those ‘lots of jobs’?”

“You can get any type of job with any type of degree, mother.”

“Okay, okay! Don’t bite me. I just want to make sure that you’re in a stable situation once you graduate.”

“Mmhmm. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Bye. Be safe.”

“Thanks. I’ll try.”

Yongsun chuckled remembering that day. Her mom did not deserve the frosty responses. In her defense, though, she had been hungry and her post-graduation plans were unclear. There was no way she would ever admit the latter to her mother; it would only make Yongsun feel like more of a disappointment.

While she had flirted with the idea for some time, weeks of being underwhelmed by the available employment options resulted in Yongsun officially deciding that she needed to go to graduate school. With applications for the fall semester already closed, she would have to apply for the following year, giving her at least eight months to research programs, take entrance exams, and find a few of her old professors to write letters of recommendation. If Yongsun went home, she would never reach grad school, but instead, be back into the petty family wars that, thanks to constant calls and texts, she was very well updated on.

Her mother yelled at her for the decision, rightfully so. She had no job, nowhere to live, no plan, but her decision was final. She’d make it work, and make it work she did. A rare of luck, the Athletics department she had been working in since her first year offered to take her on as a Marketing Intern. The pay was abysmal, but it was something.

“You still here?”

“Oh my goodness! You scared me,” she exclaimed, her hand clutching at her chest.

“Sorry! I thought you heard me come in.” Looking up from her computer, she was met with the warmest smile and kindest eyes. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she enjoyed his presence, Yongsun rolled her eyes and went back to focusing on her blank desktop screen.

“How is everyone in Communications?”

“You’re not even doing anything on your computer. I can see the reflection in the box office window behind you,” he jested. That earned him a second eye roll. “Everyone up there is fine. Why are you still here anyway? It’s 5 o’clock on a Friday, go enjoy your weekend.” Their office had been slow for months now. It was July. Classes were over, most students were gone, there were no sporting events to tend to or plan for.

“I got distracted. Heard back from the grad school program.”

“Seriously? That took forever. You submitted your application two months ago! What did they say?” It was touching how supportive her supervisor had been throughout the application process. Crippled by anxiety and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer nature of how much had to be accomplished in a short amount of time, Yongsun had cut things close with the deadlines for graduate school programs. Again, blessed by luck, her top choice had rolling admissions, making things slightly less stressful for her. Eric cheered her on at each step. She submitted her application in May and did not hear anything back until June when the Program Director contacted her for an interview. Upon learning of this, Eric rearranged his schedule, making sure he would be out of his office so that Yongsun could use it for her phone interview.

Truthfully, he had taken care of her ever since he was hired three years ago. As a college junior, Yongsun had been a student worker in the Athletics department for two years already. Eric had his responsibilities as Marketing Manager, many of which Yongsun could not help him with. However, in terms of getting acclimated to the department and, for him, a new city, Eric would readily admit that she was a tremendous help. What Yongsun saw as small things, like recommending the best places for lunch specials, offering to take care of music for events, and helping him find buildings and offices on campus, meant a lot to Eric. He was touched. As such, he did what he could for her. He gave her the best shifts; when she was sick, he would send her home but still credit her for having worked those hours so that she did not miss out on any pay. During midterms and finals, he looked the other way while she studied for classes during her work hours. Yongsun was none the wiser about the things Eric did behind the scenes to help her out, including campaigning for the higher ups to create the Marketing Intern position. He even put her in contact with a friend of his that worked in real estate to help with her post-graduation housing struggles. His closest colleagues often about his favoritism for Yongsun and he endured it all because she was an incredibly hard worker. From conversations with her while she was a student, he gathered that she worked multiple jobs while still managing to maintain high marks in her studies. She did not have much help, but still never complained about her hardships or shirked her responsibilities as an employee. The least he could do was help where he could.

“I got in,” she responded, a bashful smile growing on her face.

“Shut up!”

“Okay.”

“No! Don’t!”

“Stop yelling,” Yongsun chuckled.

“I can’t! I’m so excited for you! You worked hard for this,” Eric finished off sincerely.

“I did?”

“Yes, you did, and I don’t want to hear any arguments from you. I’m your supervisor. Whatever I say goes.” Yongsun’s subsequent giggle belied the annoyance she attempted to convey by rolling her eyes. “I’ll take you out for a meal as a congratulations gift,” Eric continued.

“Oh no, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to. You’re a hard worker, Yongsun. Accept an act of kindness every now and then.” His gentle gaze was too much for her in that moment. She had yet to fully process everything she had been through up until this moment. Eric’s comment was too much for her right now. Breaking the gaze, she conceded, “Okay. Thank you.”

“Next week is your last week anyway, so I was already planning on taking you out for a meal to celebrate the three years we’ve worked together. Now, though, I have to pick somewhere nicer than McDonald’s.”

“You’re so annoying!” she exclaimed, throwing her seat cushion at him.

Note: Testing out the waters. I usually write research articles/papers, so this is me dabbling in fiction as a way to relieve some stress. Was originally going to wait until I had more chapters pre-written, but something overtook me today, so here I am posting sooner than I thought. Not sure if this story can be considered a slow burn in the truest sense of the phrase, but interactions and developments between characters will not be forced as I am attempting to make this as realistic as possible. Still trying to figure out posting on here; bear with me, please. Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated. 

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