Joyful songs that I had sung in the past turned dull in a matter of seconds. The crippled cement that lie below my feet, the carelessly littered paper cups and wrappers that made a thin second layer on the pavement, the feel of the broken fences as I let my fingers move across them had all played that crucial part of making my life a bore.

I don’t know how to splash a little colour into my life when all the citizens around me don’t even give a damn about the dying society of this city. Companies shut down in a nanosecond; quick, while my previous neighbours moved from here, without another person’s notice. As the city’s census of population plummets, so does the effort of our city council. Streets are left horrendous and criminals, let loose as a result of the apathetic policemen. However, even the criminals had turned away and shunned this place.

If I am to put in a nutshell, my city, it would be nothing but advice- Get out of here, as fast as you can. But sadly, I can’t as my workplace lies here, diurnally active but deathly silent during the night. Due to the downhill of crime, the CEO has decided that firing the night guards would be an excellent idea as it would also aid in stretching our already measly revenue. Boss had even mentioned a higher pay, but I doubt it, even though CEO Johnston’s one of the most influential men I had ever met. Demand of our product is running low, how can my paycheque ever hit that one thousand and five hundred mark ever again?

Luckily though, my monthly rent is going down and canned products are getting cheaper because of the government’s sick little methods. I, for one though, still crave a healthy and balanced diet. I would definitely live through a better life if I had the choice, but finding work outside this city’s making me lethargic. Barely would a man ever want a woman like me in their company, that’s how modern men think. Good representatives of the company counts, that means higher levels of degrees but mostly, better looks. I fulfil only one.

I sigh in defeat as I walk past these empty alleys, my day of pitiful work complete. Now the mode of enjoyment comes on. But what is there really to enjoy? Nothing can fully satisfy my hunger for actual happiness, not even my laptop back at home. The sound of my sneakers squeaking against the cracked road enters my ears as I inhale some air. How long ago had I since placed high heels under my feet? Well, all the memories I possess now of those stilettoes is the conclusion that they are worthless without a feeling of joy in my heart.

Digging in my pocket for the stainless steel keys-most ironic things I own as they are covered in rust, the sight of my plain, wooden door comes into my view. I remain expressionless throughout the entire process of opening my door, placing my shoes near the entrance and finally taking a lukewarm shower before emerging out the bathroom door, totally drenched. A smell of the fake rose scent enters my nostrils while I put on a baggy shirt and a pair of surfer’s pants, my usual attire.

I frown at the thought of this tiresome process that I partake in every single day. I wake up, eat, go to work, actually work, eat, work more, come back home, have a little ‘me time’, eat and go to bed. It’s monotonous in nature but I guess that’s life.

When will I ever find something, something that will change me for the better, but never the worst? Will that opportunity come once I step into my twilight years? But, for me, it’s better late than never.

I do not care that I blew an entire one and a half months’ salary on my laptop. It has given me more freedom than I had ever experienced growing up in this crippling area. I remember how my mother used to start fights with my dad, mainly because of my poor upbringing as a result of my former school’s bad reputation. She wanted so much for me, for me to breathe clear air, for me to run through green, grassy fields, for me to have actual, trustworthy friends and other advantages of living in a modern city I now consider the luxuries in life.

The fights my parents had usually ended with my dad slamming the door right in front of my mother, but later pulling her into the room for God knows what reason. He still regrets ever doing that up till today; he’d rather give into a million of their fights than witness my mother getting her own gravestone.

***

Work, today, had given me equal excitement it had given me yesterday and the day before. Utter rubbish although I wish I can say more for nothing can actually realistically express how I am feeling now. What do working in a grey office, trying to think up fantasy-like toys and my co-workers constantly bickering about the fate of our company have in common? Nothing. Exactly. And the fact that I go through this every single day, three hundred and sixty five days non-stop just worries me. Just what have I gotten myself into?

I watch in awe as I pass the only electronics shop in the city. Televisions are stacked neatly near the windows which already have scratches and chips on it despite it being changed merely a few days ago. People are too desperate these days. Why, why can’t I be like one of those women in those commercials on that TV? Why must I be born in this stupid excuse for a city? Why couldn’t I have been born in Los Angeles, San Fran, New York or even Las Vegas? I want to see the light, the light of freedom from this place. I dig deeper, deeper, higher and higher but there’s still nothing in sight, no matter how hard I try.

“Just, just head back home.”

 I’m used to talking to myself, it’s a habit I’ve acquired over years living alone, by myself. I take steps as I force myself to inhale and exhale, as a sort of calming method. But just too suddenly, I felt something hit my shoe. I look down and see a phone. Now, it’s not that uncommon to find a phone littered on the streets, as if worthless like a piece of tissue in this place. These are usually black market phones or how I call them, cheap and useless junk. They don’t work at all and I know of that fact as I had experienced the immense sadness upon learning their absolute ty-ness.

I walk past the phone, having no particular use in the plastic nonsense, merely giving it a short glance. I now continue, back to my home. Is it sweet? No.

I now feel a little bit lighter. I do not know why but I do feel a bit lighter than usual after that short encounter with the black market phone. It could be my senses playing with me, making me think that what is there isn’t there. But to be sure, I’ll just have to check. Plunging a hand into my pocket, I feel for any apparent item missing. There’s the usual worn-out leather wallet, the copper change but…where the hell are my keys?

“Could it be?” 

In a matter of minutes, I found my keys right next to that same, untouched phone. Well at least since I set my eyes on it. I turn my back to leave, but I feel the urge to do something. Should I just have a peek at the phone? I mean I haven’t seen one up close like it in months. Should I test its properties? Should I? I don’t want anyone to think I’m a leech but what the heck, most of them are probably leeches as well.

Instantly, an unusual cold metal sensation tingled my fingertips. This definitely isn’t a black market phone. It can’t be. I press the button and the screen lights up, unveiling a lock screen with a background picture of an attractive woman. She is, I presume, of Korean decent and is most likely around my age group. Matter of fact, she’s mighty beautiful. So, so beautiful, she can even pass as perfect if her character matches her degree of beauty. I can’t help but to run my finger across the screen. I need to know who she is, anyway. Is she the owner of the phone? She looks rich and the picture looks as if it was taken by her so the chances are high.

I take a few seconds to inspect the phone, to see if there is a way to unlock it, but it required a password. Placing the device as well as my keys in my pocket, I walk back, with steps a bit lighter than before. I guess the phone owner’s gorgeousness has something to do with that.

***

‘Dear Jessica Jung Soo Yeon,

First and foremost, as you know, the company, Johnston Toys & Games Inc. , is currently doing very much badly in terms of revenue, more so in terms of profit. I, Mark Johnston, the current CEO and Founder of this company, plead for you to accept my offer. This offer in which I had granted for you goes like this- My brother-in-law, Hwang Joo Kyung, proud Founder of the Autumn Silver Designs Group, has agreed to my enquiry for me to send you to his company, to work for him. I, in all honesty, think that you are one of the top-notch designers I’ve met in my life. And so, please, agree to this. This will do you more good than harm, I promise.

Mark Johnston’

Have I been looking at this letter for more than a year? My watch tells me no and yet I still can’t comprehend this message. It seems so sudden. Re-reading this just confuses me even more. Why? I know the one-worded question repeats itself at least a dozen times every single hour of every single day in my life, but really, why? Conclusions, as well, appear a few times a day. Right now, it’s telling me that my life is a non-stop story book; full of twists and turns.

My cold fingertips touch the plastic of my house phone as I use the other hand to punch in Johnston’s number. I gulp in saliva, a feeling in my chest that I’ve experienced uncountable times before, yet I know not its name. The closest that I can think of is a mixed emotion, but that word is terribly hazy.

“Mr Johnston, about this letter that I’ve received from you-“

I was interrupted by his words, telling me, no, urging me to agree with him. Looking up at my low ceiling, I contemplate my next statement. Should I accept or deny? The offer is outrageously considerable, he said, as it was guaranteeing a steady job with quite an admirable income, that is, if I do well. I gulp once again.

“Sure.”

“I knew that you would say that word. Now do you see the plane ticket? Flight’s tomorrow morning at eleven, a guide will pick you up at the airport and will show you around. Remember to call me, yeah? I’ll hear from you soon, Miss Jung. Goodbye.”

With that, he hung up. I’m speechless. That’s…That’s a miracle. Am I dreaming? Is this real? This has got to be a joke. Craning my neck in the envelope’s direction, I notice the plane ticket. If I reach out my hand, if I feel the ticket, if I see the passenger’s name and details…

It’s mine. It’s real. This is real.

***

‘All passengers aboard this plane, please proceed to the-”

It was a mind-blowing experience for me. Never in my life had I ever boarded a plane, even though my dad had a private jet. And now, this first experience is coming to an end, but I willingly bid farewell to planes in general until the day I leave this place, South Korea. That is only if I feel that the densely-populated, first-world city is too much for me to handle. Today, as it is indeed a special day, I had chosen to wear my heels for a change. They click against the waxy airport floor as I make my way to Incheon International Airport’s main terminal.

Beaten and old suitcase in hand, I await my guide whom I presume is fluent in the English language; otherwise I would fit in as much as a sheepdog in a pack of zebras.  Staring at my watch does no good and the only entertainment that’s before me now is the two birds perched on top of a car, challenging each other for the stray piece of cracker.

“Are you Jessica Jung?”

I turn around, a Korean lady in her business outfit walks up to me with her arm stretched out. She grabs me by my forearm and pulls me over to a seemingly expensive car. The outline so sleek, so shiny and new, but I’ll never achieve that much abundance in life if I still laze around here.

“Yah, snap out of it! Now, I want you to listen carefully. I’m Lee Ann. I work in Autumn Silver as someone you do not need to know for now, but this is a hint-I guide newbies, okay?”

With a red hand print on my forehead, I nod.

“Good, at least you can listen. Now, for your first day at work you’re going to be shown around the building, later on we’ll test you; see if you’re good enough to take on our newest and most challenging project.”

The engine made its noise following her words. She drives calmly, unlike her personality. Reaching into the bag, I pull out the note that Mr Johnston gave me, along with the phone with the woman’s picture as its background. I hear the car screech to a stop right in front of this architectural giant, standing tall and grand with numerous trees surrounding and adorning it. Lee Ann motions for me to get out of the car and to follow her into the building, to which I simply shove those two things into my pocket and get out of the vehicle as swiftly as can be.

But as soon as I step out, her eyes lay on my body, particularly my outfit. She inspects me thoroughly, putting her hand under her chin and walking around me in circles, intimidating me. She shrugs and, yet again, drags me to the front door without a moment’s warning. She shows me all around the company building, the rooms, the lavatories, the galleries and all of that nonsense. Why would she even bother to show me around if there’s a map of the entire floor at every single corner?

“Right, now to get down to business.”

She leads me to the tenth floor and right into ‘Hwang’s Office’, which I suspect is Mr Hwang Joo Kyung’s office, although there are tons of Hwangs in Korea. She knocks on the wooden door, later opening it and pushing me inside. There, I see a man of fairly old age in a suit, staring right at me, documents in both his hands.

“This is your brother-in-law’s past employee, Jessica Jung Soo Yeon. Best of luck, Jung.”

After I hear the door slam shut, I place my handbag down on the carpeted floor and bow at a ninety-degree angle, a sign of respect for elders. I then greet him and sit down, legs crossed unlike my usual seating position. He takes a deep breath and initiates the conversation.

“Well, first thing’s first, welcome to Seoul, Jessica. And no, don’t worry, most of us are fluent in English. It is sort of a requirement, as is the requirement for you to possess the knowledge of basic Korean. On your desk, there will be a brand new laptop for you to use as well as the Rosetta Stone Korean Programme installed in it. If you need, in the lounge, you will find a great spread of Korean language textbooks and fictional and non-fictional books. But, let’s push that aside for a while, shall we?”

I nod, again.

“You see, just the other day, we have received some depressing but still a little bit exciting news. Ever heard of Girls’ Generation? “

Huh? Is it a group of fashion designers? Are they supposed to be popular here?

“Well, they are a South Korean girl group that’s been around here for quite some time, around seven years. They have proven extraordinary success in both Korea and other parts of the world. But now, sadly, one of them is about to go. She’s my niece, Tiffany Hwang. The exciting part of it is though is the fact that we’re going to design their ‘Goodbye Fany Fany Tiffany!’ concert costumes.”

“Huh? Who’s Tiffany again?”

“Never mind…All you need to know now is that we’re dealing with an important client! But before I can let you join that team, I’ll have to give you this.”

After frantically searching through the drawers, he pulled out a few pieces of paper and gave them to me. This is going to take a long time. I’m assured that it will. I can’t understand a single word of it.

“It’s in Korean. Once you learn the actual language, you will be able to complete this test. The faster you get it done, the higher the numbers on your first pay check.”

“You-you have that much assurance in me? That I’ll do fine in your company?”

“Well, I can’t upset my brother-in-law, can I? Besides, your portfolio shows that your ability is quite adequate. Now, go on and Ann will guide you to your desk.”

He gestured for me to go off, his head lowering, tons upon tons of words engulfing his brain as he picks up his ball point pen. Adjusting my bag over my shoulder, I head for the door and step outside, an indifferent-looking Ann standing right in front. Unfortunately, my clearing my throat did not help this silence either. Instead, she shot me a glare of death, or perhaps she is just in a bad mood, I don’t know as I am horrible at face reading.

For the rest of the minute-long journey she walked without ever turning her head around, nor did she utter a single word. I nearly have a panic-attack after I tripped over of my heels and luckily, I got myself together just in time before I would crash down.  I’m not that good with heels.

As she leads me to my desk, my spirit is lifted and the word ‘happiness’ is now written all over my face despite the awful jet lag that I am experiencing.  The desk is much more pristine than my old one. Actually, even that is an understatement. And as said, there’s a computer right in the middle. I switch it on and place the test beside it.

“Good Luck, Have Fun,” said its background.

Great, now they’re mocking my deficiency in the Korean language.