“Clean it all up”. 

 

Su Ryeon gasps faced what she can only describe as a monstrous pile of trash towering before her. 

 

“Here you go” That rude teacher, Mr Lee, says as he gives her a pair of thick rubber gloves and trash bags. She agreed to after-school volunteer work to show her daughter the meaning of her actions. Gathering trash in her Atelier Versace ‘21 wrap dress is not what she signed up for. 

 

Then again, this is why he’s doing it. He doesn’t bother to hide the smirk from his face as he struts to the back, leaving her wondering if it’s too late to back out. 

 

But no, that’s exactly what he wants. 

 

In the few occasions she’s been in the presence of Mr Lee -Logan, he’s younger than her- one thing is clear: he doesn’t belong. He may look the part, always dressed like a tennis pro booked for a luxury brand endorsement. (He was the talk of the town in that PTA meeting, a young teacher who looks straight off the Ralph Lauren catalog is catnip for bored housewives). But his scowl, the permanent lines of anger framing his eyes and his bluntness to the face of her circle set him apart from… everyone else she knows. He doesn’t handle parents with the polite expression -the off face- the other teachers do. None of the smiles and compliments many men offer her. She doesn’t know why, but he looks at her like she’s the enemy. Only she doesn’t remember firing the first shot. 

 

As if he senses her angry thoughts, he turns back “Don’t even think of skipping out your work, Mrs Shim. I'll be watching you”. 

 

“Great, let’s both waste our time”, she mutters.  

 

She gathers up her skirt in a knot, trying to avoid it being ruined by the whims of a man in yet another pair of pristine Nikes. Does he collect them or is punishing parents his only hobby? She dons the gloves, grabs the bags and sorts through the mountain of trash. 

 

A repulsive odor hits her nostrils and she gags. The trash is overflowing with rotten leftovers, and they’re kept in the sun, leaking. Sensing Logan's eyes on her -true to his word, unfortunately- she picks up various disgusting pieces and sorts them. She winces again at the sight of a banana peel so molded, it’s the color of fresh vomit. When she squeezes without thinking, a dirty liquid oozes from it. There’s even broken glass and pieces of furniture, dust, and an ungodly amount of dirt. 

 

Having enough money for three cleaners, she’s never faced with the filth hiding in her own home. It’s kept orderly, everything in its place and shining, garnering compliments from the guests, which she accepts falsely. If she searched for it, she’d encounter the dirt beneath. She dissociates, lets her body do the work and free her mind to a better, cleaner place. Her home, smelling of fresh-cut flowers, her garden with the swing, where she took turns rocking the twins to sleep on warm summer nights. 

 

Seok Kyun.

 

Her little princess who grew up to be a monster. 

 

She shuts her eyes and wills this realization away. If she admits what her daughter did, what her daughter is, her whole life will fall into pieces. 

 

“Are you stopping?” Logan asks from behind her, annoyance evident in his tone. She's picking trash and he’s annoyed? 

 

“Don’t worry, I will accomplish the task you so thoughtfully bestowed on me” she says in her saccharine voice, like with all the men who doubted her. And because he’s enjoying seeing her like this, she counters. “Is this what you make students do too? There must be a better, more professional way, Mr Sports Teacher”. 

 

The man has the audacity to smirk. 

 

“What do you know about teaching, Mrs Shim? If i can judge from your daughter’s actions you-”

 

“And you think if you humiliate me, she’s going to start acting nice?” she approaches him and growls. “What do you know about parenting?”

 

As his smile falters, she knows it’s an unfair hit. Having kids doesn’t make one a good parent. But she wants him to feel the same tinge of pain. 

 

“I know how to deal with bullies. Seok Hyun wasn’t born like that. Kids adopt what behaviors they see at home". 

 

If only he knew what she sees at home. 

 

“Me” it’s not a question, but he nods. He thinks she’s the bully in their home. It’s so ridiculous she almost laughs, but the hurt wins. She stares deep into his eyes -dark brown, immense overpowering the white- and whispers. “You think I'm like that?”

 

He opens his mouth, but something stops him. His eyes fall down and back at her face.

 

“Prove me wrong” but instead of a challenge, he holds her eyes pleadingly. 

 

He fell for her puppy eyes, so she launches into attack. 

 

“I have nothing to prove to you. You’ve already made up your mind about me. That's why I'm covered in slime and dirt.” She brandishes the slime covered gloves. “And I don’t make a habit of explaining what I do at home with my kids to a vindictive, small man who doesn’t have the guts to go for my husband, so punishes me instead. I'm not the easy target, Logan.” he flinches. “When I finish with you I’m going home to my family and you’ll go to bed alone with a hole in your heart you tried to fill with punishing others.”

 

–

 

The gym is spotless. Logan inspects every corner with the compulsion of a health inspector, but she’s scraped it to shine. He spots his reflection on the sparkling glass and he doesn’t like the bitter, tight-jaw man he sees. He wanted for her to fail, to give up, to throw the mop on his face and give him a reason to hate her even more. To validate the image of her he has, the witch in the ivory tower. 

 

You think I'm like that?

 

She wasn’t a witch at that moment, her soft whisper doing something to his heart. Before ripping it out of his chest and forcing him to eat it.

 

He hoped she’d give up but she doesn’t allow him this erse satisfaction. She comes to the school, takes whatever cleaning materials he points at and starts working. 

 

There's no mistake she’s dreading it every time, her eyes forming thin lines as she bites her lip to hold herself back. Yet, she persists, and he can’t snipe at her without sounding like the bad guy. 

 

“What fresh hell do you have for me today?” he turns to her voice and almost smiles at her phrasing. He’s caught by her look. There’s no flowing dress draped on her lithe body and sets of matching shiny jewelry today. She has black leggings and a simple t-shirt on, her hair in a high ponytail with a few strands escaping on her forehead. And sneakers. She mistakes his silence as ignoring. “What? No toilets to clean, no attic dusty enough to throw me into?”

 

She was the picture of curated elegance to others, but he sees this raw person who says exactly what she’s thinking, like last time, to his face. 

 

He’s saved from answering when a small girl collides with him. 

 

“Sem” she calls him distressed, hugging his leg. The school day for primary kids like Sung Ah has long been over and worry fills him at the sight of her here. He crouches down and asks her what’s wrong. 

 

“Dada isn’t here” he knows the man. Her “dada” is an ultra rich real estate developer who gained custody of his daughter after the divorce, only for him to neglect her and park her with nannies and chauffeurs. Absent parents hit a little too close to home.

 

Logan pushes her now messy hair off her face to reveal two teary eyes and wombly lips. instinctively he opens his arms and hugs the girl, until her sobs subside. 

 

“It’s alright honey, you can stay with us until he comes. I’m sure he didn’t forget you” or rather, he’ll make sure he doesn’t forget to pick her ever again. 

 

Handing her a tissue, he crouches down and asks about the unicorn stickers on her shows and nag. Distraction accomplished. 

 

“Can we play Tigerball?” for the first time she notices Su Ryeon. “Will you play with us?”

 

She’s looking at the girl intently, almost wistfully, with a sadness he can’t place. A few suspended moments pass and she breaks into a beautiful smile. 

 

“Only if you show me”. 

 

—

 

Tigerball, Logan explains, is a game he made up where each player throws the ball and if it hits the center target, all players need to hop on a mark immediately, otherwise they lose the point. It seems unfair to play against a child, but what she lacks in step size she makes up for in sheer energy. 

 

Sadness forgotten, she’s an AA battery. 

 

“My turn, munchkin!” Logan takes the ball from her and purposefully misses the target, to help Sung Ah. She doesn’t want to think about how warm he is with the child. Worried for her, spending his free time playing until she’s not sad, making her laugh at every turn. She tries to picture Dan Tae playing with a little Seok Kyun after work and can’t even conjure the image. 

 

When they’re on the spots next to each other, she asks about this game.

 

“They’re too young for regular sports”, he explains while she throws. “I make up games so they’ll work with each other and have fun. That’s how they become friends”. And not bullies, she adds on her mind. 

 

He gestures with the passion of a man who has found his purpose and shares it. A flame of guilt across the lining of her stomach remembering what she told him the other day. 

 

You sleep alone, bitter and unloved. 

 

“She loves playing with you”. She settles for an olive branch.

 

He looks bashful.

 

“I’m the teacher who lets them run around and play, of course she does”, he deflects the compliment. Was she complimenting him?

 

“So much they make you friendship bracelets?” She picks his sleeve up -careful not to touch him- and shows the macaroni art on his wrist. 

 

He plays with its clasp fondly. 

 

“It’s too precious not to wear”. 

 

“Seok Kyun made one for me when she was in preschool” she touches her empty wrist wistfully.

 

“She’s too old for that now”. It’s a kind thing for him to say. But she doesn’t deserve it. 

 

“Or she doesn’t love me anymore”. She bites her lips hard.  

 

She shouldn’t have given him an opening, after what she said the other day. He could hit her where it hurts. She runs to Sung Ah’s side, partly to score the point, partly to avoid his reaction. 

 

He stretches his arm and swiftly intercepts the ball, passing it to the girl. 

 

“If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t act out to get your attention”. 

 

–

 

The game is in full swing. He has an ease with children. 

 

“Do you have nieces and nephews?” 

 

“No, my brother’s too wild for that.” his smile doesn’t warn her for what comes next “I had a little sister once”. 

 

The ball falls from her hands. 

 

“What happened to her?”

 

“She’s gone” and with that he passes to Sung Ah and she fling the ball towards her point and they scramble to reach their new marks. Thankful for her trainers -and her choosing athletic wear- Su Ryeon sprints to the spot but Logan steps on it in the nick of time. But she can’t stop her moving body, whose full force collides with Logan's torso and knocks the breath out of his lungs. He groans at the impact, and she braces for the inevitable fall, but just as she’s about to slide to the ground, his arms come around her. 

 

For a second she’s engulfed in him and there’s stillness. He holds her head to his chest and she could hide here forever. His shirt smells fresh, even after all the running and jumping. Below her cheek there’s solid muscle. Close to her ear, the thump of a heart. 

 

Only when he softly lifts her chin she realizes she’s clinging to his chest and she tries to take a step back. He holds her in place, no doubt the concerned teacher part of him taking the reins. 

 

“What's going on here?” A tall figure in a long gray coat strides to them. 

 

“Dada!” Sung Ah runs to him. He doesn’t move to pick her up. 

 

“Is this how you’re supervising my daughter?” he gestures between them, still very close. Logan tenses beside her and whatever she saw when he was looking at her a second ago transforms into hot rage. He marches towards him and she takes Sung Ah behind. 

 

“You didn’t show up”, he barks. “Your daughter was alone and crying, long after school was over, and we kept her company. All because of you”.

 

“I was busy. Some of us have important jobs”. 

 

The way he shrugs off responsibility hits painfully familiar. This isn't far from her own reaction, when confronted with her daughter’s misdeeds. She came high and mighty, bulldozing Logan. Is she like this? So stuck in her privilege she discarded his teachings? She’s not a monster, but in Logan’s eyes, how different is she from this man?

 

“Isn’t teaching your daughter important? Because that’s what he’s trying to do”, she steps in. 

 

He turns to Su Ryeon, glaring. 

 

“I'm sorry, teacher’s girlfriend, did I ask for your input?”  

 

She enjoys the last moments before she introduces herself. “Shim Su Ryeon”.

 

He looks her up and down until his eyes bulge, fighting a mortified expression.

 

“My apologies. I didn’t know you were Ju Dan Tae’s wife". 

 

Dan Tae’s wife. That's all she is in people’s eyes. A powerful man’s wife. No name, profession, personality. Someone’s girlfriend to someone’s wife to someone’s mother. What a life. 

 

“It’s him you should apologize to”, she points at Logan. 

 

She stands her ground, willing him to fix at least this. He comes closer to her, grabs Sung Ah’s hand and leaves. 

 

“He can’t talk to you like that”. 

 

Logan tilts his head. 

 

“Not my first time arguing with rich parents”. His hint is not so subtle. 

 

“I'm sorry for-”, she runs a hand through her hair, messing up her ponytail, “being like that.”

 

He squints at her, searching. Whatever it is, he finds it and his tone softens. 

 

“You’re not. He's absent, you’re protective”.

 

“To a fault”. 

 

He nods. 

 

There’s more she wants to say, to apologize for every parent who blames teachers for their kid’s behavior. He teaches the kids all day and after hours he’s dealing with entitled parents. But words won’t get her out this time. 

 

“I’ll go back to cleaning”, she says and grabs a soapy sponge.

 

As she is crouched down scrubbing the court seats, Logan wordlessly picks up another sponge and starts cleaning beside her.

 

_

 

He does it a lot from then on. Like they have some unspoken agreement, he does the chores with her. 

 

When she asks he brushes it off, saying he wants to go home faster. 

 

Once, when they're cleaning his office, she stops at the wall of drawings gifted by his students. He's always with a cap and a ball and depending on the child's level, in various athletic situations. All are bright and warm, though. The kids must adore him. 

 

And there’s the time where he tossed the sponge so fast in the bucket, soapy water splattered everywhere. She waited for the panic to hit her as the dirty water soaked through her brown slacks, but she burst out laughing and he couldn’t help but join in. Even when she flung foam at his hair and almost slipped off the wet floor, she couldn’t contain her giggling. In there she was far from a perfect lady, she could let go. 

 

–