CHAPTER 3

[Uh…?]

[Let me be frank. What I need is someone who can help both Rose and me. There’s no way Rose can be normal when she’s lost her parents, in a strange house, with an uncle who’s never been a parent before being the primary caregiver. She needs someone to teach her that a six-year-old should be in bed before twelve, things like that, desperately].

Being a tutor is one thing, but a live-in-home tutor? Minhee had never even considered the idea.

[I need some time to think about…]

[Starting this Sunday afternoon until June 15th, for about four months, the base pay is $100,000.]

Dropping the number like he was delivering weather information in a dry tone, Taejun paused for a moment, waiting for all these numbers to sink into Minhee, and watched her reaction. When Minhee’s lips parted, and a silent gasp escaped, Taejun continued.

[I’ll give you one of your weekends off, and if you work on the weekend, I’ll pay you triple your daily rate. I promise you a $50,000 signing bonus as soon as you sign the contract, and a $50,000 success bonus at the end of June].

[…!]

Minhee was momentarily dumbfounded. It was as if a stack of bills with huge sums of money was falling down on her head in slow motion. If she worked for just four months, she could pay off the student loans that had weighed on her shoulders for years and even have some extra money.

‘Still, going into a single man’s home as a live-in tutor seems a bit risky… But wait, he could be married, right?’

Minhee side-eyed Taejun’s left hand and was drawn to his large one. Blue veins protruded from the back of his hand like branches, and his long fingers were covered in scars.

The palm that held Minhee’s hand and helped her up had calluses like a laborer’s. Although she had vaguely heard that he was the head of a hedge fund, she was surprised that someone with a white-collar job had rough hands like someone who did manual labor.

Upon closer inspection, there was no ring on the ring finger of his left hand.

‘Well, if he was married, he would have gotten help from his wife, not me. I bet he’s not really living alone, he has Rose and probably a nanny. But, when he first saw me, he thought I was a student. I’m not sure any man has ever seen me as a woman.’

Minhee looked at Taejun with a wry smile. Taejun was a young, successful financier and an attractive man.

‘There’s no way a guy like him would bother with me. With that appearance and that status, he must have a girlfriend. Yeah, I’m safe. But still…’

[Give me some time to think about it].

[Please contact me by tomorrow afternoon, Miss Mini.]

Taejun nodded briefly, stood up, and handed Minhee his business card.

***

Returning to her small apartment in the East Village after her master’s school classes, Minhee confided in her roommate and best friend, Miho.

With her mauve, partially bleached hair tied back in a tight bun to reveal her pierced ears, Miho was hunched over a pen and mouse, drawing colorful floral patterns on a large computer monitor.

“What should I do, Miho? Should I do it or not?”

“Do it.”

Miho answered without turning around.

“But I’m a bit scared of Rose’s uncle.”

“Why?”

Miho made a clicking sound and scratched her pen mouse across the pad, and the petals on the monitor disappeared.

“He’s as big as a football player, and he’s a little rugged looking. Just looking at him makes my heart shrink. Do you think I can help someone like that? I’ve only ever taught girls under ten.”

“Then don’t do it.”

“It’s over $200,000 for four months. Just think about it. In Korean currency, that’s almost…, oh! Over 200 million won!”

“Then do it.”

“Miho, Miho, what should I do!”

Miho sighed heavily, finally looking away from the monitor and glancing at Minhee.

“Ugh, just do it. Do it! After paying off the student loans, you have to pay for the next semester’s masters school tuition anyway. What’s there to think about or hesitate?”

“Hmph……. maybe it’s because you haven’t seen the guy.”

“Huh. I’m already struggling to draw pink flower patterns, and you keep bothering me! Why do they keep asking only for stupid flower patterns, damn it! Look at me, I’m so sick of florals, you fabric company sadists. They’re only ordering florals on purpose to torment me.”

“Oh, that’s because you’re good at it. Besides, that company was originally famous for flower patterns. Um, skulls or splattering blood gore…, I know you like that kind of stuff, but there aren’t that many people who want clothes made with those prints… Can I get you an iced coffee if you’re upset? Two Korean mixed coffees with ice?”

“Just make it very cold.”

“Alright!”

Miho, who came to the U.S. in high school with her parents, both professors, majored in textile design in college and worked as a freelance fabric designer, creating fiber art in her spare time.

Three years ago, Miho posted an ad for a roommate on a Korean-American website. When Minhee saw it and came to look at the apartment, Miho tried to kick her out.

‘No, you can’t!’

‘I’m twenty-two years old.’

‘Where did you learn this damn nonsense? You’re a runaway!’

‘No, really, I’m twenty-two years old….’

Minhee nervously held out her driver’s license. Only then did Miho, who had been standing stiffly, comparing Minhee and her driver’s licenses, answer decisively.

‘Passed. You can move in anytime.’

Over the next three years, Minhee and Miho, who were the same age, became best friends, like sisters. Despite having completely different tastes and lifestyles, they oddly got along well.

When Minhee offered Miho an iced coffee, she sighed heavily and asked,

“Do you have a picture of him so I can take a look and see if he looks like a r*pist or a murderer?”

“I heard he’s some kind of hedge fund boss. If we search, will a picture come up?”

“Wall Street scumbag. He probably has dirty money. Google him. It will come up.”

Sure enough, when they searched his name, a bunch of photos from financial news and conferences popped up.

“Whoa. What’s this? He doesn’t look scary at all. He’s a pretty boy like your favorite idol, that King guy, right?”

“You really can’t judge guys! Pretty boy? I’ve told you multiple times that King J is an idol but looks like a manly actor!”

As Miho muttered her bias’s name, Minhee couldn’t take it anymore and retorted. Miho chuckled with a mischievous expression.

“Minmin, it’s because you don’t actually know people who are scary-looking. Should I show you a picture of Marilyn Manson? That should meet your criteria for someone scary-looking, right?”

“Mihoho, that’s because your taste is so-“

“Minmin, let’s respect each other’s preferences, okay?”

Cutting off Minhee’s words, Miho tapped Taejun’s shoulder on the screen with her black manicured nails and zoomed in on his face.

“He’s tall, and bulked up on muscles, that’s why he looks rugged, but his face is obviously handsome. His overall features, what should I say, he is graceful. With scars on his forehead and a fierce gaze, it seems like he’s been through a lot, like a ‘serene beauty’ in terms of women.”

Miho evaluated Taejun’s physiognomy, exuding an air of expertise.

“This kind of ascetic style looks subtly sexy and is popular, you know? It’s weirdly flattering to girls. I don’t know about girls our age, but older girls would be all over him. Look at this, check out his lipline! It looks like he’s good at oral.”

“Hey! Stop with that kind of talk!”

“Tsk. Come to think of it, it seems a bit challenging for you to handle.”

“Right? Even in the morning meeting, I spilled my books and hit him with a heart pin, he made me blush and gave me a starburst……. Ha.”

Minhee covered her face with both hands and shook her head deeply.

“At least he doesn’t look like a r*pist.”

“…”

“You said you wanted to help Rose. You said her mom and dad both died at the same time.”

Miho, for once, stared at Minhee with a serious expression.

“Yeah. I want to help because I know what it’s like.”

Minhee nodded heavily.

“Do it, then.”

“……Yes. I wanted to, actually.”

“You always end up doing that. Why the f*ck did you come to me for permission after you’d already decided? Can’t you see I’m already mentally exhausted from all that flower-painting?”

Miho narrowed her eyes, bared her teeth, and growled like a cat.

“Because you’re smarter than me, I thought I might be wrong about my thoughts. I put your favorite triple chocolate ice cream in the freezer.”

“……Ugh, seriously. Where did you smoothly slip that in? Don’t pay the rent while you’re there!”

“Oh, come on.”

“Instead, come over on your days off and stock the fridge with sweets. I’ll survive on that while you’re not here. If it looks like my life is in danger due to flower pattern syndrome, nurse me a bit. Okay? Agree before I change my mind.”

“Okay, I love you, Miho!”

A smiling Miho picked up the pen mouse again and began to draw the pink petals one by one with a delicate touch. After a few moments, Minhee sent an email accepting the proposal of becoming a live-in-home tutor to the email address Taejun had given.

As soon as she sent the email as if he’d been waiting for her, he sent her a twenty-page employment contract.

‘Dad said I must read the contract and manual carefully….’

The black text on her monitor looked like ants crawling on a white background. Minhee quickly skimmed through, confirming the amounts in the places where numbers and dollars were written, and then signed.

‘But since I’m going to be a tutor, shouldn’t I send a lesson plan or something’

Using the Aster School preschool learning material template, she created a simple plan.

She added cute drawings to the front and back, and highlighted important words in different colors, making it visually pleasing, so she was satisfied with the way it looked. She also added a note saying it would be good to familiarize oneself in advance and attached it with the contract, sending it to Taejun.

* * *

1. Ask Rose about her day over dinner, preferably every night. Spending as much time together as possible is the fastest way to get to know each other.
2. Routines and Rules

•  We recommend doing at least one activity together after school or before dinner.
• Timetable for a 6-year-old: Wake up between 6-7 AM, mandatory breakfast, dinner at 6 PM, shower at 7 PM, and recommended bedtime before 8 PM. Ensure Rose gets at least 10-11 hours of sleep.

3. Read and thoroughly review emails or printouts from school, and prepare clothes or items the day before. Read a book to Rose for 10 minutes every day. (Reading is a homework subject.)
4. Check if shoes or clothes fit when the seasons change. Before they become too small, buy clothes suitable for the season. For winter school days, send gloves, scarves, and hats. In summer, make sure Rose wears shorts under her uniform.
5. Adjust the food to suit Rose’s taste moderately but ensure a balanced intake of vegetables, fruits, and protein-rich foods.
6. Have regular check-ups with your child’s pediatrician and dentist once a year, keep up with age-required vaccines, and update health-related information on the school website before each semester registration. (Mandatory before each academic year.)
7. To nurture social skills, have regular after-school play dates with classmates to build socialization. Once a week is appropriate.
8. Continuously express care and affection, as much as needed, to avoid resorting to unusual behavior to attract guardians’ attention. Having lost her parents, what Rose needs most right now is a stable, constant source of affection.

* * *

The large monitor on the wall blared a steady stream of news from the major stock markets around the world. Taejun sat at his desk in the study, reading the colorfully decorated lesson plan, and sank into the large chair with a long sigh.

He brushed his hair out of his face, disheveled, and clicked on an email from Lara Rosenburg.

A list of junior boarding schools for elementary and middle school students on the East Coast of the United States popped up. Lara’s words seemed to pierce through the monitor, gripping his collar.

< TJ,

We haven’t been in touch lately. How’s everything going? I hope you’ve decided by now. You’re not seriously thinking about raising that kid yourself, are you?

My dad sent me off to boarding school in England when I was seven and came to visit once a year, and I turned out just fine.

Considering that, I looked into boarding schools on the East Coast since Europe seemed too far.

You know better than anyone that you’re incapable of loving someone. Sending Rose to a boarding school is the best for you and that child.

If she doesn’t have anyone around, she’ll learn to survive without relying on anyone. Like me. And like you. I hope you make a wise judgment.

Yours,

Lara >

Taejun chuckled at Lara’s claim that they both grew up well. It was clear that Lara thought she had escaped Taejun’s notice of her constantly going to rehab for bipolar disorder, alcoholism, and drug addiction.

Taejun often suffered from headaches so severe that he felt smashing his head with bricks might be better. It was the result of an overloaded brain that hadn’t been able to block out the information that was pouring into it.

‘Did I grow up well just because I endured the monotonous and meaningless life, barely holding back the urge to put a gun to my head?’

But Lara’s words weren’t entirely wrong.

Love…he didn’t know what that felt like. No, he didn’t want to know.

‘Cause I’ve seen with my own eyes how that insubstantial emotion can destroy a person.’

Taejun recalled a few scenes stored in his mind without much thought. His father had taken pictures of him crying after dropping an ice cream cone, or laughing out loud with his head tilted back as he hugged his mom, all preserved in photos magnetically attached to the refrigerator.

‘When I was young, I was an ordinary child who could cry, laugh, and sometimes feel happy or sad.’

Despite his ability to recall a lot of information at once, Taejun couldn’t easily recall what he had felt at specific moments.

After a while, he began to feel numb, as if his emotional storage space had been swallowed up by a barrage of meaningless information. Now he was accustomed to observing his own existence from a distance, immersed in an empty indifference.

Taejun knew that something was broken within himself.

On the third Friday of every month, when he went to his brother’s house for dinner, his neck itched. Rose would laugh while clinging to his brother, and his brother would tickle Rose, then turn his face and kiss his sister-in-law beside him.

Taejun would tune out most of the conversation at the dinner table because it was trivial information, but he remembered what his brother said to him as he looked at Rose with an inexplicable look in his eyes.

‘Taejun, I love Rose more than myself and I don’t want her to grow up like you, my brother. I will give her everything I can, and I will raise her as a happy child.’

He felt an unfamiliar stiffness, like a thorn in the center of his throat. It throbbed with a dull ache from his temples to the back of his head. While rubbing his neck with his thumb, he scrutinized the monitor again, focusing on a different type of pain than the headache.

He closed Lara’s email and clicked on Miss Minnie’s colorful lesson plan again for an unknown reason. Although he had perfectly memorized every word, he read through each word again, calming his jumbled thoughts.

‘Since the new semester starts in September, I can’t send Rose to a boarding school now, as it’s already February. Just until then, I hope I won’t ruin Rose more than I already have, as Lara said.’

Another image flashed into his mind, overlapping with the layout of the lesson plan.

The flushed cheeks, the skin so white it looked transparent, the cherry-colored lips, the heart bobbing above her head, the purple bruise on her inner thigh when she knelt, the feel of her soft hands, the tingling sensation in his ears from her murmuring voice.

Without warning, he felt his stomach clench at the images in his head.

‘I’ve finally lost my mind.’

Taejun glanced down and let out a long sigh at the sudden surge of self-loathing. Out of habit, he wrapped both hands around his forehead and pressed his thumbs firmly against his temples. However, something felt odd.

‘When did the headache go away?’

His head felt lighter without the throbbing pain of all the blood rushing to his head at once. Instead, the discomfort seemed to have shifted downwards. He removed his hands from his forehead and smirked.

‘I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go crazy once in a while.’