She bounced out of bed early in the morning, hours before her actual time to wake up, her face flashing with thrill and joy.  It was 4 o’clock in the morning. She chuckled to herself as she headed towards the kitchen. Hard to believe indeed, her, Emile, was actually responding towards the alarm clock, let alone wake up earlier than usual. If her friends knew that, they would send her to a doctor. She was officially known as”the person in coma”. She quickly stuffed a piece of bread in , grabbing rushing back to her room, grabbing the 12 “outcomes” of outfits she had come up with. “The first impression is so important,” she said to herself, mouth full of bread, “so at least I should wear something punk-ish to indicate I’m a decent designer.” She stuffed the extremely fashionable gray jean shirt on herself, peering cautiously at the mirror. “I look fat.” She mumbled. “How can a fashion designer be fat? People won’t even want to employ you anymore because you can’t even take care of yourself. Stupid jerk.” She glanced at the dark suit. “Is that too formal? Because I’m starting to think that I need a very impressive impression. So they’ll know I’m serious about this.” After striking numerous poses in front of the mirror, she decided it was a no. “I look like some sales assistant manager.” Picking up a flashy shirt, she suddenly spotted the ideal, ultimate pants she had dreamed for. “Gosh! Emile, you have such nice pants and you don’t know! How come I never knew I had this? Eureka!” Raising her hopes high, she put them on and slowly inched towards the mirror, her heart full with expectation. The image totally destructed her. “They totally on me! Uggh!” Discouraged and defeated in shame, she hugged herself tight, collapsing into a bundle on the floor.

“How come I have no clothes!” She whined.

After two long hours, she finally decided what she was going to wear. The black and white flashy top that had the mirror-like material was definitely going with the prompt yellow skirt. It was the best she could get at. She grasped towards her messy hair and crossed her arms, beaming. Good, she thought, that’s it: a mix of both concepts; stunning designer and trustworthy origin of responsibility. 

She glanced at her watch. “Oh my God!” She exclaimed. There was only an hour left. She rushed to the bathroom, grabbing bags of cosmetics as she made her way into the bathroom, knocking down her shampoo. “Shoot!” She yelled, combing her hair. She blamed her fat self. “If I weren’t so fat I wouldn’t have to choose my clothes for such a long time! If I were so slim, I’d look good in everything, even in the cheapest costume! And I wouldn’t spend so much stupid time! Now I’ve run out of time! It’s all because of you! ” She poked at her stomach and kicked the shampoo bottle.

She breathed in deeply. She batted her eyelashes at her own reflection.”Black or pink? Black emphasizes how deep my eyes are, since I have grey eyes. Black it is.” 

“I suffer too much having internal arguments with myself all the time.”She said as she poked her foot into her silver heels. “You just did.” Her brain gave her a gentle reminder. She slapped her hand and told herself to shut up.

She arrived at JYP building at 8 o’clock, a huge smile pressed across her face.

“Boy is it hard,” she thought to herself. “Since I’ve found my new concept of clothing for every work day now, that means I’ll have to wake up way earlier every single day to pair up what I’m gonna wear.”

A receptionist with a face so grave and serious that he seemed to be attending a funeral approached Emile in broad steps. “Annyeonghaseyo! Jang cheong min ibnida. You must be Emile ssi, am I right?” It took her minutes to figure out what on earth he was saying. Korean was not an easy thing for her. “erm...” she stuttered. “Nae. Jang cheong min sunbae ssi, annyeonghaseyo!” She bowed and felt her face flush at her poor accent. He nodded, extending his arm towards a room. “Room 407” He said, heading towards it and opened the door. “Gamsahabnida!” She bowed in return, walking cautiously into the empty room. Another lady whose face was so serious Emile felt discouraged just looking at her walked towards the table where Emile was standing at and bowed, gesturing her to sit down.

“Annyeonghaseyo! Emi—“ She was cut off by the lady’s cold expression before she could continue.

“I know.” The lady said, not even looking at her.

Emile didn’t know what to do for a moment, she felt her eyes go wide. She hadn’t been to Korea for such a long period of time, she had only arrived for approximately 2 months. Back at Britain it was considered very rude to speak like that—cutting someone off; if she had spoke to anyone like that at home, even her sister, she would have been sent to her room if she was lucky and it was her father who were present, if it were her mother who had heard that, she’d have a great time listening to a very long lecture and enjoying the wind outside her house while pulling her ears.

“Joesonghabnida.” She bowed her head low, afraid if she had done anything impolite or somehow offending to the lady.

“No need to be. I understand that you are a newbie. Well, nice to meet you. I will be your boss for this upcoming year.  ”The lady’s glare was cold and her icy voice sent a shrill down Emile’s spine. She had a feeling she would not be able to cope well with this lady as her boss. After a brief introduction with the rules of the office and her job, she left, leaving Emile’s working form behind on the table.

Emile unfolded the sheet and looked, according to her boss’s instructions. It didn’t take her long to find out that she was not able to read it, for as far as she knew she only knew Romanization but not proper Korean characters. Under the help of her translate dictionary she had decided to stuff in her bag, she finished reading her instruction list.

Feeling a bit disappointed that she wasn’t going to have the chance to work with Miss A, her favorite good.  she glanced at her watch, sighing. At UK things weren’t like that. People there were more friendly and positive, not so serious. They all seemed so sunny at all times, making compliments or jokes while they greeted each other. Here it was not like that, people bowed 90 degrees to greet each other. Nobody had to tell her that, but she just knew by the way things went, there seemed to be an invisible board hanging around everyone’s necks, saying “Don’t mess around. Every minute is going to be used properly. Work hard and keep silent”.  She remembered her mother’s joke before her parents sent her to the plane: “It’s gonna be quite hard for you to work in an Asian country. People will turn out like me, dead serious, strict and very efficient. You’ll have to try hard.”

The group she was going to work for was 2pm. A boy band. For some reason she felt her skin tingle. She gave her hand a slap for the other time. “Stop it ok?” She whispered fustratedly at herself? Language problems, difficult environments that she knew she wouldn’t be able to cope with, that was pretty much too perfect for her first day. She could definitely imagine what WAS going to happen in the future.

“Emile nobody gets success such easily ok? Lift your spirits, it’s only your first day of work. I know it’s frustrating but keep calm and go on!” She heard her mother lecturing her in her head. “Yes mom,” she replied aloud. The door creaked, her boss stared at her queerly. She felt herself blush at the thought of letting someone hear her babbling on to herself like an idiot. Emile stood up, bowing again.  Her boss led her down the alleyway, towards a small office. “This is the place where you’ll work.” Her boss said. Emile thanked her and sat down, arranging a few documents on her desk. Her boss left, then returned after a few minutes, a coffee mug in her hand. “Now come on, I’ll tell you something about the boy band that you will design for. I’m afraid you will not be able to meet them for the time being though, they are very busy and have very packed schedules.”

She led Emile on and told her mountains of information. Emile wasn’t sure if she had gotten it all straight. Right now she had a poster of the boy group. They looked...cool.  Well now she was sure of the few facts that she had caught on with: they were beastly idols and her designs would have to be very manly and beastly, they could not wear overtight clothes due to their dance moves that were of high level difficulty, they would preferably wear clothes which emphasized their nice body shape or muscles. She took out their portfolios and read again, trying to get all the important stuff memorized. She read out, “ Kim Junsu, also known as Jun K. Lee Junho. Ok Taecyeon. Nickhun. Jang Wooyoung. Hwang Chansung.” She skipped to the next line, about their body measures.

“Wow! Perfect body measurement!” She couldn’t help but exclaim. “Emile, I don’t want to know that you are falling for a stupid guy again. Last warning, miss.” She slapped her hand, AGAIN.

“Annyeonghaseyo?” Her door opened. She spinned her chair around.