“Tis the eye of childhood, That fears a painted devil.”

(Act II, Scene II, lines 64-5).

Her living situation is not pretty...very far from it.

One weekend, Dara awoke to the jarring sound of breaking glass. Groaning into her pillow, she became aware of a heated argument ensuing outside.

“You !”

“You !”

The altercation escalated more with slaps, kicks, and punches.

“Ahhh!!”

Spat!

Finally, a door slammed shut.

Fully awake now, Dara slowly stood up and opened her door slightly to find her aunt Hyorin with bruises on her body, slumped on the floor, while crying pathetically. Glancing around the house, Dara noted torn curtains, furniture overturned, and broken glass scattered everywhere.

Aunt Hyorin, seemingly aware of Dara's presence now, glared at her. "What are you looking at, ? Clean this mess, now!" she roared as she threw a bottle of empty soju on her way which Dara luckily avoided. It smashed on the door instead, leaving fragments of shattered glasses on the floor.

The faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air. Of course, Aunt Hyorin would drink in the morning and be drunk by noon.

Silently, Dara stepped out of her room and began picking up the shattered glass. She accidentally cut herself while doing it. Fortunately, it's not a big of a cut on her hand but noticeable enough for someone checking closely.

Aunt Hyorin threw a bag in Dara's direction this time as she continued to sob while hugging herself in a fetal position. "Godo, that ..." she cried. "Don't leave...me." And then she fell asleep.

Sighing, Dara glanced at her aunt, sleeping pathetically on the cold floor, clutching another bottle of vodka. Her aunt might be crying now about her (ex) boyfriend, but soon enough, she'd be involved with another man. The names changed, but the type of men remained the same – brute and abusive, just as her aunt liked them.

Dara tried not to dwell on her aunt's choices. Once she saved enough money, she would leave this hell after graduation and find her own place very far away.

She could endure the occasional hit when her aunt was drunk and angry, but what she couldn't tolerate was when her aunt brought these dangerous men into their lives.

Men who were not only textbook dangerous but who appeared dissatisfied with her aunt and would give Dara lingering looks, sending shivers down her spine.

Dara tried not to be home when her aunt had these types of men over.

She even slept with a knife under her pillow, just in case—a situation she hoped would never come.

After cleaning the house and ensuring her aunt was sound asleep, Dara left the house.

The pungent and musty smell of the street hit her nose as she looked at the surroundings—old abandoned buildings and run-down houses lined the street. A big 'Angel Street Under Development Area: Keep Out' banner hanging on the street poles.

Few people were present, engaged in various things. Some were smoking or drinking early, stray dogs barking, and fights broke out with punches thrown, while others conversed suspiciously, exchanging packages. Some women sat on men's laps, sharing secrets that made them laugh, hands too comfortable on their bodies.

Dara shook her head. She should get used to this sight by now. She lived in this street, after all. But it still disgusts her.

She couldn't wait to leave this dump.

Rumor has it this street houses the most dangerous people in town. From men who kill and dump their victims in their backyard. To corrupt members of the Cabinet hanging out here because it's a place no media people dares to go. And of course, the outrageous rumor that the reason this street has not been shut down yet is because apparently the descendant of El Capo, the notorious drug lord lives and protects this place. Yeah, those sorts of rumors.

Dara doesn't believe those things. 'But, you'll never know.' She entertained the thought.

Eager to leave, Dara walked with her head held high, passing by the people she observed earlier. They glanced at her, but most ignored her.

To them, she was the girl who lived with her aunt, a woman known for hitting her niece after breakups.

"Are you lost, kitten?" A drunken guy asked.

Dara looked at him. He was surely new in this part of the street to not recognize her.

Not blaming him, Dara is indeed out of place in this place. Wearing a plain white shirt, blue jeans, and running shoes on. She just looked too decent for this place.

Dara ignored him as she passed him by. This prompted the intoxicated man to grab her when a tipsy woman stopped him on time, and then dragged him back to the bar.

"Drop it, Gray." The woman said, addressing the man. "No one touches that girl." The woman even winked at Dara after.

Gray blinked his eyes as he tried to balance himself. "Why not?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Because she's a princess." She followed it with a laugh. "And you are a peasant." The man tried to hit the woman because of that insult but she easily avoided him. "Seriously, don't bother her. She works hard so she can graduate college. Leave her alone." She pushed the man away again. "She's the only one living in this street who got the brains to actually leave this place someday." She then looked and bowed to Dara. "Your Highness?" She playfully offered her hands to the street.

Dara smiled at her. "Thank you, Jess."

Jess smiled back. "Anytime, D." Then the woman pushed Gray when he tried to go to Dara again. When he tried to press further, Jess seemed to be annoyed now as she whispered something in his ear. Whatever Jess said, he looked terrified as he turned his back and ran away.

Dara didn't understand what just happened but she didn't care as she had other things to do. She continued to walk as she turned to an alley.

"Going somewhere?" An old woman asked between nagging coughs.

"Ahjumma." Dara acknowledged the woman as she approached her and