A little thought and a little kindness are often worth more than a great deal of money.
-- John Ruskin
 

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Yongguk’s POV

            A few weeks passed by relatively quietly at the hotel. Because Jieun was in such a high position, she was often locked up in her own office, going days without seeing anyone but her personal secretary who I’d see carry cups of coffee in and out the door. Just how much paperwork did she put aside by going to Korea? Or perhaps it was just a part of her personality that preferred isolation from everything else. I would do my daily rounds of greeting guests, only to find myself back in the lobby, glancing through the translucent drapes of her office windows, wondering if I’d get to see her face today or tomorrow. All the staffs here were friendly, but communicating with them required the use of English. I had slowly succumbed to the reality that I was feeling a little homesick, and the short conversations I’d have with Jieun every now and then comforted me. It became a regular thing, for me to hover around outside her office with hopes that she’d come out to speak to me. And today she did.

            The weather was hot, and even though the AC was on inside, nothing could compare to the feeling of fresh air blowing against my cheeks. I pulled at my tie, loosening its grip around my neck. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was past noon, so a lunch break wouldn’t hurt.

            “I’m going on my lunch break, I’ll be just outside,” I informed the receptionist at the front desk who nodded in reply. She gave me the same hospitable smile as she did to every guest and even Jieun, as if it was the only face she was capable of making. When she returned to her phone call, I left the lobby and headed to the kitchen area, looking for a bite to eat. The branch here wasn’t exactly five-star but it had class. The restaurant was purposely dimly lit, candles in a glass cup glowing as a centerpiece during dinner hours. I wondered whether the poor lighting was decided to lower electricity bills, but the chaebol bosses probably didn’t care for those things.

            “Yongguk! Here for lunch?” A younger, but more experienced staff member called out to me when I stepped into the kitchen. He wore his chefs jacket smudged in spaghetti sauce and wiped his hands messily with a towel on the counter as he smiled at me. I didn’t make very many friends when I came here, but this kid was surely one of them. I never bothered to remember his real name though, because everyone knew him by Junior. He was the ‘maknae’ of the kitchen staff, but no less dedicated than the rest.

            “Yeah,” I smiled back, “Handled the lunch rush well?” Junior was Caucasian, born and raised in Vancouver so all our conversations happened in English. I supposed one of the reasons I liked him was because other than Jieun, he was the only one who could pronounce my name properly. The two of us tried brainstorming an English name for me to go by during my time in Vancouver, but honestly there was none that I liked.

            “We’ve had crazier. What ‘cha craving today?” He confidently inquired, glancing at the prepared ingredients the chefs laid out. He was probably expecting me to choose a classy dish I could challenge him with, but all I really wanted was a sandwich and some orange juice. I figured that no matter how talented a chef was working here, no one could produce the kind of food I craved—authentic Korean bulgogi. Rather than frustrating them with my recipe, I stayed quiet.

            “Just a turkey sandwich,” I insisted, turning to the small fridge for a box of orange juice. He almost twitched in response, but decided that as the chef he’d accommodate anyone he could. Within five minutes the sandwich was ready, and I was on my way out of the kitchen.

            “If you see Jieun on your way let her know the inventory report from the kitchen is ready and she can come pick it up.” Junior informed as I walked away. I turned around and nodded, a little amused by his request. At least now if we met again I’d have something important to say.

            The hallway was hotter than the lobby, and by the time I was near the front floor my forehead was practically drenched in sweat. Thank goodness I was off my shift right now. I wouldn’t want to greet anyone looking like this anyway. My exit out the front door felt a little like heaven, the cold rush of wind blowing against my body as I stepped through the doors. I was almost tempted to retrace a few steps in pursuit of that refreshing feeling again, but decided against it.

            The parking lot was filled with cars, ranging from rows of tour buses getting ready to departure to rented vans painted a bright white with darkly tinted windows. Those were the kinds of vehicles companies rented out to tourists lately, but to me they looked more like e trucks, where old men could smuggle children and store them where no one could see. If one of those vans drove past me on a walk along a sidewalk even I’d be cautious. Now that the wind brought my body temperature back down, I finally took a bite of my turkey sandwich. It tasted like any other turkey sandwich would, and it was satisfying.

 A thought suddenly struck my mind. I had never seen the entire outside of the hotel before, and I’d worked here for many weeks already. I still had fifteen minutes left of my break so I decided on a mini adventure around the facilities. As I turned the west corner, I saw a shadow shuffle to the side. Before me sat a middle aged man, gruff in appearance with raggedy clothes and unwashed hair, rolled into a ball with a small crack between his bangs to look up at me. His eyes looked terrified, and his shoulders trembled as I walked closer. Sunlight bounced off the side of my nametag and shot his eyes, causing him to hide his entire face. My hand that held the orange juice rose up to cover my name tag. It was probably safe to assume that he was homeless. The way they looked in Canada was not much different from how I’d seen them back in Korea. Poverty was universal.

“Excuse me,” I coughed, hoping he’d look up at me again. Instinctively, I knelt down to be at eye level with him. Seeing a man so vulnerable had a strange kind of effect on me, like I could understand exactly how he had felt and exactly what he needed at this very moment—A random act of kindness.

            “I’m sorry; I know I shouldn’t be loitering but…” His weak and fragile voice cracked as he spoke back to me, sounding as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. I glanced at the location he was sitting, and behind him was a small vent. Cool air came out of the hotel through that vent in the summer and hot air conveniently during the winter. After speaking, he raised his head higher, revealing strips of sun burnt skin on his face. His eyes were sunken in and he looked absolutely dehydrated. Just how long had he been living like this? Every few days I’d hear the receptionists’ gossip about homeless people loitering by the west side of the hotel. They’d say wretched things about the poverty stricken people, often ignorantly without even trying to understand them.

Jieun’s POV

            “You look dehydrated. Drink this,” Yongguk offered, extending his orange juice out in front of him. I watched them from the side of the corner, my arms crossed as I waited for the man to accept the juice. Instead, he backed away a little and shook his head.

            “You’ll get a heatstroke if you don’t. “Yongguk warned, keeping his extended arm straight. He hopped from the side to the front of the man and looked him right in the eyes, a caring smile plastered on his face. This was something I’d never seen the staff here do, and it fascinated me. Reluctantly, I headed back to the lobby, to a stand of bulletins and pamphlets. I grabbed about three different ones along with a cold water bottle form the small cooler in my office. When I went back to the corner, I saw that Yongguk was leaning against the hotel’s exterior with his back, his legs extended out with a relaxed expression beside the homeless man. He had given his entire lunch to him, and the man ate in small nibbles as Yongguk spoke.

Unable to hold in my delight, I approached the two of them quietly. They turned in one synchronized motion as my shadow fell upon them.

“This isn’t much, but please consider it a small gift from the hotel,” I handed him the cold water bottle and the three pamphlets. They were referrals to various charity organizations targeted to helping the homeless. His hand reached out slowly, unsteady as he received it from me. His expression was shocked, and he opened his mouth to speak before any words could come out.

“Th-thank you…” He mumbled, as if he was holding back tears. The quivering from his voice was enough to convince me that he was touched.

“Oh, my break is over,” Yongguk jumped up from his sitting position suddenly, glancing at his watch, “Before I go, I want to leave you with something to think about. When you’re at the bottom, there’s no where you can go but up. I know that from experience.” With one last smile, he waited until the homeless man nodded before turning around, going back to the entrance without even looking at me. I glanced back and forth between the two a few times, and then politely bowed to the homeless man.

“Best of luck,” I turned to leave, sneaking one last glance at him to see that he was browsing through the pamphlets as he drank the orange juice. Once inside the lobby, my first instinct was to look for Yongguk. What I had just seen wasn’t an everyday occurrence; it was more or less a miracle. I’d hear gossip from various staff about loitering homeless and the strategies they’d use to get rid of them. Never once had they shown any compassion. Lately, it felt as if this hotel—my hotel—had slowly transformed into one like my father’s. That was something I feared more than death itself. Yongguk’s short display of compassion gave me a little more faith in humanity and my purpose for being here. I wanted to show my father and the world that being money-driven wasn’t the only way to success, that ulterior manipulation was wrong.

I knew the staff here well, and almost all of them entered with money as a priority. Though it was logical, it bothered me. Working in a hotel was not just a part time summer job for many of the staff here. It was a career. To spend their entire lives pursuing a career with no other goals than obtaining money seemed depressing and even a little pathetic to me.

“Yongguk-sshi,” I finally found him, hanging out near the restaurant chatting to Junior. They were chuckling together, and Yongguk had gotten a new box of orange juice. As I came closer, Junior bowed politely to me and then backed away a little. Though he was a youthful bucket filled with energy, he was never show with showing respect. Yongguk looked up at me, sipping his orange juice a little confused. His posture showed that he was probably expecting a scolding, but I had nothing like that in mind.

“Good job out there,” I started, smiling as I gave him a playful pat on the back. After all, we were pretty much the same age anyway. With my staff, I wanted to be treated like a friend, not a boss.

“But, if you don’t mind me asking,” I began, allowing my curiosity to drive the conversation completely, “What did you talk to him about?” Yongguk straightened up, and then focused on the ceiling before looking back at me.

“This and that, I guess,” It was a typical ‘guy’ answer, but he wasn’t finished.

“I was just sharing with him my own story, hoping that it’d inspire him somehow.” He shrugged it off as if it was nothing, but his comment only fed my curiosity more. Had Yongguk himself been homeless at one point? It was a possibility, but I wasn’t going to jump to that conclusion. After contemplating whether I should ask further, I finally spoke,

“Your St—“

“The report—I’m sorry!” Junior stuttered, accidentally interrupting me. His head hung low in embarrassment, and I hoped that he’d just laugh it off. He was the only employee that showed any intimidation in my presence.

“I’ll tell you about it another time. You’re busy right now.” Yongguk stepped forward and suggested, already looking like he was ready to leave.

“We have the inventory report ready.” Junior finished his previous sentence, and then scurried back into the kitchen.

“Alright,” I sighed, getting my mind back in work mode. Without looking back at Yongguk, I entered the kitchen to greet the head chef. There was something about the expression Yongguk had before he turned away that lingered in my head. Perhaps his story would inspire me as well? I was excited to find out.

A/N: Sorry I'm not updating as fast as I thought I would!! Actually this part of the plot like I said in the previous chapter is harder to write because i don't have it planned as thoroughly (so the events are kind of improvised as I write). I hope this chapter wasn't too random or anything. I think the following updates will be a lot better and i'll try not to procrastinate! Honestly... I blame EXO for turning me into a wild fangirl .____. I'd tell myself I'd update and then start admiring Kris and Tao's beautiful faces. -cough- anyway, leave some thoughts below? :D!

And if you guys are interested, check out my Duet of Going Crazy - Song Jieun Feat. Bang Yongguk with a dear friend of mine ^^ (I'm covering for Yongguk)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7nCI8rhQiA