Chapter 4.4

“A parasite, but pretending to be some kind of princess all this time, huh?”  

“She’s probably not even on basic welfare benefits. Didn’t that assemblywoman get her dad a job? If he has a job, they don’t qualify.”  

“Who cares? If her dad’s disabled, they’re probably getting tons of support money anyway. In the end, she’s living off the taxes we pay.”  

Disgusting.  

That word followed Su-eon everywhere she went. Her desk was covered with graffiti written in permanent marker, and even when she left the classroom and walked down the hallway, there were students who openly insulted her or deliberately bumped into her as they passed.  

Despite all the bullying, Su-eon managed to stay composed. But what shook her the most was the change in J’s attitude.  

“Sorry, I’m busy with tutoring, so I’ll head out first.”  

“…”

“What should I do? I already made plans to have lunch with the kids from Class 3.”  

It was a signal. A clear line being drawn, saying, ‘From this moment on, we’re no longer friends.’  

Even though she understood, Su-eon didn’t know how to react. Panicked, she clung to J.  

“Then, then… what about the letters? That’s something we do together…”  

“I don’t need them anymore.”  

“…What?”  

“From now on, I’ll take care of it myself, so don’t worry about it.”  

With a cold gaze and an even colder voice, J cut off Su-eon’s words and turned her back on her.  

Whenever society or others rejected her, Su-eon felt as if an invisible glass door slammed shut in front of her. Each time, something inside her also closed along with it.  

That lunchtime, Su-eon wrote a very long letter and placed it in J’s desk drawer.  

[Did I do something wrong? Is there a reason you’re suddenly avoiding me? If there’s something going on that I don’t know about, please tell me. I’m having such a hard time right now. I need you.]

It was a letter filled with earnest feelings, written with desperate sincerity. After anxiously waiting, the reply that came was J tearing the letter into pieces, leaving the scraps on Su-eon’s desk, and walking away with a resolute back.  

Su-eon never got to hear why J’s attitude had changed. What Su-eon learned then was that the people who left her side never explained their reasons for leaving. Just like her mother, who had abandoned her.  

A transparent glass wall surrounded Su-eon. It was a wall of deep humiliation, where no one approached her or spoke to her. While she endured there alone, Park Min-hee and the girls who followed her came in, linking arms with J as if to flaunt it, and walked out.  

“She lied to you too, didn’t she? Isn’t she basically a pathological liar at this point? Let’s stop calling her Su-eon and start calling her ‘Liar’ from now on. What do you think?”  

From that day onward, Su-eon became invisible in her class. Like a fern that neither produces flowers nor seeds, quietly staying in its place, Su-eon silently remained in hers.  

Later, when she heard the news about Ki Seung-jo studying abroad, Su-eon finally understood why J no longer needed her. Soon after, Su-eon quit the track team. It was the only act of rebellion she could manage in a life where she had no choices.  

To Su-eon, her school days were both a horrifying time, like walking through a tunnel with no exit, and a period filled with radiant memories so bittersweet that they brought her to tears. Thus, it was a painfully dazzling youth.  

***

“Pathological lying is a mental illness.”  

The man’s agitated tone snapped Su-eon out of her daze as she held her coffee cup. Falling into a stupor with her eyes open—such was life as a six-year veteran of the K-workforce. Her survival skills were improving by the day.  

Recently, Su-eon had been suffering from a lack of sleep. The first reason was the nightmares that visited her every night, triggered by the memories of her school days, which had opened up like Pandora’s box, spreading disaster into her world. The second reason was the man sitting in front of her.  

Ever since the day they were first introduced, he had been pestering her, day and night. When she ignored his endless text messages, he started calling her. When she refused to answer his calls, he showed up at her hotel—unannounced.  

“Lying about studying abroad, lying about going to a prestigious university—there are so many people who get married by doing that. But in South Korea, for a man in his thirties, it’s impossible to have that kind of academic background and career. Do you know how hard studying abroad is?”  

The man, who claimed to have stayed in Shanghai for a year as an exchange student, had been rambling about the struggles of studying abroad for an hour.  

“I wanted to take the opportunity to study more in the field of business, but since I’m an only son, my parents were so worried that I had no choice but to return.”  

After saying that, the man gulped down his ice water. It was already the fifth time he had asked for a refill.  

Su-eon stared at her coffee cup, which had gone cold and stiff at the bottom. She herself desperately needed a refill. But she endured, stubbornly ignoring the glances from the staff who kept sneaking looks at her. She had already provided enough entertainment for them.  

“As I mentioned before, we have five stores, including the branches. Since my parents only manage the main store, I’m the only one who can go around and oversee the branches.”  

With a lifeless smile, Su-eon nodded as she set her empty cup on the table and checked the time. It had been well over an hour since she left the office, yet her phone remained silent. If it were Jung Cho-ah, who acted like someone with separation anxiety, she would have come down looking for her by now.  

Surely, she wasn’t still asleep, was she?  

“These days, even hiring one person isn’t easy. With minimum wages, insurance, and all that, young people don’t have any sense of responsibility. No one wants to do hard work anymore, and it’s a big problem.”  

The man, who had placed a clutch bag featuring a luxury brand pattern and a smart key with a three-pointed star logo on the table, criticized the current state of society. Honestly, she wanted to ask, ‘What does that have to do with me?’  

He had claimed he had something important to say, but if she had known it would just be this kind of talk, she wouldn’t have given in to his persistence.  

[Still, Assemblywoman Yeo introduced us. Isn’t it too rude to reject me without even giving me a proper chance?]  

The man, who had essentially kidnapped her time with half-threatening words even by visiting her workplace, was someone Assemblywoman Yeo had set up as her potential marriage partner.  

About a week ago, during a weekday lunch break, Su-eon had been urgently summoned. When she arrived, not only was Assemblywoman Yeo waiting for her, but also this man and someone who introduced himself as his father. The man’s father was reportedly an executive in a merchant association, running several pork belly restaurants in the area around the train station in Assemblywoman Yeo’s district in Gyeonggi Province.  

Having been dragged into the situation without hearing a single word beforehand, Su-eon had to sit there listening to Assemblywoman Yeo’s ridiculous claim that she had raised her like a daughter for the past 28 years. Just like that day in her school years—the day her nightmares began—when she was suddenly called after school, dressed in new clothes, and made to stand in front of a camera, this time too, Su-eon had no choice in the matter.  

[You need to think about your dad. Isn’t he about ready to retire? He can’t stay at our house forever, and you can’t take care of him yourself. Wouldn’t it be nice to set him up with a small flower shop and a house where he can spend his retirement in peace?]  

As Su-eon grew older, Assemblywoman Yeo demanded more. Once again, her father was the shackle tying her down. Su-eon was beginning to grow sick of how they used her father as an excuse to manipulate her life at will.  

Su-eon knew why Assemblywoman Yeo had suddenly changed her attitude and was now rushing to marry her off. The day after Ki Seung-jo visited the World Hotel, news of his matchmaking meeting with Jung Cho-ah spread quickly, and talks of marriage between the two families began to gain momentum. Assemblywoman Yeo, not wanting to miss this opportunity, was eager to marry off Jung Cho-ah.  

[Chief Jung can’t bring you along to K.U. Electronics. You should meet someone nice before it’s too late. How long are you going to keep following Chief Jung around?]  

It was clear what she meant: she no longer needed Su-eon and wanted her gone—for good. From the house and from the hotel.  

Even though Su-eon had always known they were the kind of people who would do this, she had assumed she would at least be responsible for helping prepare Jung Cho-ah’s wedding. Seeing through Assemblywoman Yeo’s transparent intentions to get rid of her before that, Su-eon returned home that night, sat at the empty dining table, and laughed for a long time.  

Truly, they treated people—right to the bitter end—like this.