Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Still, heavy dampness hung in the air as Bong-Soon opened up shop for the day. She yawned, shaking her head and trying in vain to shrug off the last remnants of sleep.

She savored these moments—quietly restocking, setting up chairs, and wiping down the machines. She didn’t have to deal with customers yet; it was just her and the sweet aroma of her first cup of coffee quietly beginning to brew.

Since Sunrise Sip was horribly understaffed (and because Gook Doo was always late), Bong-Soon always had the beginnings of the Tuesday morning shift to herself. She sipped her coffee, savoring its rich and bitter notes alike, and waited for the first early birds to trickle in.

She fell into the rhythm. The bell chimed. She took their order, tamped the coffee grounds, pulled the espresso, set a cup below to catch the espresso, then noticed a spill—the bell chimed—wiped it up, greeted the next customer, and the cycle continued. Same as always and just like clockwork.

She had just finished cleaning up after the first rush cleared out and was taking another order when the bell chimed. Bong-Soon glanced over, then grinned. She called out teasingly, “Oh, good! Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes. Bong-Soon didn’t miss his shy smile, though. “Toss me an apron, will you?”

“Get it yourself—we’ve got plenty to do and you’re due for a bathroom restock anyway.”

“You’re messing with me.”

“Nope,” Bong-Soon tossed back. “We’ve been slammed for the last hour and you, punk—“ She tossed him a look— “managed to oversleep. Anything to say, hm?”

Gook-Doo grumbled and went to go clean. She shook her head, her heart warm. They had been friends for years, ever since a particularly bad scuff as kids. Gook-Doo had tried to bravely stand up for himself, but he was getting his ass handed to him, so Bong-Soon took pity on the kid and stepped in. With years of wrangling hay and larger animals than her, Bong-Soon was plenty tough enough to scare the punks off—and gained a lifelong friend in the process.

They were still close despite the complications of school and work. Nowadays, Bong-Soon worked to save up for her own place, while Gook-Doo took the occasional shift to help cover expenses during his PI training. Eventually, their lives would probably overlap less—Gook-Doo busy with cases and Bong-Soon finally successful as a programmer—, but for now, she loved these shifts together at their local coffee shop.

“I can help the next guest,” Bong-Soon called out. A few people shuffled forward and she fell back into work. Order, prep, order, pour, deliver, order,—a puppy! How hardworking—, prep, steep tea, pour, deliver with a smile, order—“Oh no, I’m short a dollar,” a kind stranger steps in—

Oh. Him.

Great.

Bong-Soon raised an eyebrow, trying not to get irritated. “Are you sure?”

“Sure of what?” Ahn Min-hyuk, the world’s most frustrating customer (and sadly, a regular), asked teasingly. “I’m offering to cover the difference out of the goodness of my heart. Do you have a problem with that?”

Bong-Soon resisted the temptation to groan, but only just. “Will this be cash or a separate card?”

“Are you really going to be like that? Seriously?”

“Yes. Cash or card?”

“Fine.” He slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter with a truly excessive amount of drama. “For the rest, and I’ll add a London fog. Oh, and keep the change.”

She hit the portafilter on the sink counter harder than was strictly necessary. After quickly washing it, she tamped and set the espresso to be prepared. As she grabbed the London fog tea from the back counter—because of course Min-hyuk couldn’t bother to choose an easy drink to prepare, plus the owner insisted on loose-leaf tea which was an utter pain—, she once again cursed her thoroughly unintimidating appearance. No, she didn’t want to look overly strong or intimidating… except for this one irritating customer.

He was harmless, thankfully. He was just careless with his money and seemed to never need to work. All he ever did was sit around Sunrise Sip, fiddling with his phone or playing goofy games. He did this almost every weekday that she saw and lingered for hours almost every time.

But it seemed that today was an exception, Bong-Soon noted. She watched as Min-hyuk took his tea (in his special tumbler that he insisted they use), tossed her a cheeky grin, and walked out. As the door closed behind him, Bong-Soon stared Gook-Doo down, daring him to comment.

He shrugged. “Don’t look at me—I’m not messing with whatever weird thing you’ve got going on.”

“We don’t have a thing. He’s annoying, but that’s the only thing I see.”

“Okay, then.” Gook-Doo poked her in the side. Bong-Soon retaliated by snapping a towel at him. He raised his arms in surrender. “Alright, alright. How can I help you today, sir?”

They wrapped up their respective shifts and headed home.

Chapter Text

It was late afternoon on Thursday. Some obscure jazz album played from the record player in the corner (because the owner was a snob, obviously) and the lemon smell of cleaner competed with the aroma of coffee. Do Bong-Soon was comfortable here.

And bored. She was really, really bored.

So she fell into her usual timekiller, sketching out options for interfaces on her pet project. Bong-Soon would eventually use her degree for something real; she had fought too hard to get through the program and to finish as one of the most advanced, qualified programmers to sit around and make lattes all day.

Not that she disliked coffee—that was the weird part. Making drinks, helping tired mothers wake up, motivating overwhelmed students to just finish one more section of work, guiding teens through their first taste of specialty coffee—it raised her spirits like nothing else. But she couldn’t give up programming, either.

Conveniently, days like today let her do a bit of both. Bong-Soon grabbed her sketchbook from the bag she had tossed in the back in a hurry that morning. Using the pen clipped to the spine, she doodled options for layouts. There was a contest circulating that promised a grant for a program that could demonstrate actual help to people’s lives. It was kind of her dream, honestly.

She paused, soaking in the light pouring in from outside. The windows welcomed the light in, hindered only by the plants sheltered inside. They looked cheerful today. Bong-Soon couldn’t resist doodling a couple before diving into her programming plans.

The current challenge was less about deciding the design itself and more about making it workable. Making it cute and fun could come later; now was the time to make it user-friendly and engaging without addictive effects. Bong-Soon saw enough of that with coffee. Apps didn’t need to do the same to be helpful. In fact, that was one of her main arguments to her work’s importance—its ability to help without detracting from daily life.

“What’s that?”

Bong-Soon jumped and slammed the sketchbook closed. Snippets of notes scattered across the counter and behind the floor. At least one landed in a sticky spot, making her wince. Min-hyuk moved to gather them together, but she slapped a hand over them before he could. 

He made a face that was probably supposed to invoke sympathy. She stuck her tongue out at him. Min-hyuk chuckled. “Very mature, as always. Again, what are you doing?”

She yanked away the papers. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” She stacked them carefully and put them away, cautious not to linger long. He tracked the movements, that same odd look on his face as usual. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh no, no,” he said. He gestured vaguely to the tea over at what had to be his favorite table. Did he seriously bring his own tea? What is with this guy, really… 

The door opened, a new patron stepping in. “Excuse me,” Bong-Soon said with a smile pressed onto her face. It felt tight, false, but it was necessary to stay at least somewhat civil—like now. “I would like to help this lovely lady first.”

“Alright, fine.” Min-hyuk put his hands up and walked away. Bong-Soon rolled her eyes. It’s not like he wouldn’t just bug her again in five minutes. Dramatic much?

She prepared the older woman’s oat milk latte, taking extra care with the design on the top. She slid the mug across the counter. The woman picked it up with care, seeming cheered by the flowers drawn in the foam.

Internally, she fumed. Of course Min-hyuk wanted to see her work. It was just her luck that the first person to notice her nearly manic interest in design would be the most frustrating regular to grace her days. 

She fought and scraped by for space to work on her goals after her family refused to help her. Sure, Gook-Doo was cool with her work, but he was struggling almost as much as she was. Plus, he didn’t care about programming or technology, not really. It was only a tool to him. That was fine. She could hardly blame him for the attitude when so many frustrating or even malicious designs existed online. 

Still, their attitudes meant Min-hyuk’s scrutiny set off all of her internal defenses. He was not getting closer. The last thing she wanted was to watch as the frustrating, abrasive, attractive, irritating (and probably wealthy, if his free time was anything to go by) customer judged her goals. 

If Eomma had reacted differently… she shook it off. There was no undoing it.

She went back to making coffee, trying in vain to shove down the naive dreams from when she was young. The sun still shone and coffee still took the same steps. Order, tamp grounds, pull espresso, pour, serve. There was stability there. Steadiness. Room to move forward, even as things around her stayed constant.

She felt relief in the routine of it all.

Chapter Text

“Bong-ki, I've told you—“ Bong-Soon hiked her purse up her shoulder. She had just parked her car and was strolling over to Sunrise Sip for the morning. Of course her brother, still working on their family’s farm, was awake at this hour. Anyone else would be insane…though he might be, with all this garbage he’s spouting. “I’m not doing it. Just leave it, okay?”

“But Bong-Soon-ah,” whined her brother. There was a thump; hopefully he hadn’t kicked anything important. “I can’t do this alone.”

Shoot—it’s later than I thought. Bong-Soon picked up the pace. “Then tell Eomma to hire someone.”

“It doesn’t work like that and you know it.”

“Well—“ She shifted her purse to her hand and fished around for the store keys. Something squished unpleasantly. Bong-Soon made a face— “You know how hard things can get, and it’s not like I can haul things around the way you can.”

Finally, the door opened. “Not my problem.” She hung up and went inside, pausing a moment to yell her frustrations. Why won’t they just leave things alone?

Finished with her unfortunate moment of feelings, she fixed her hair and moved on. Shaking off the lingering hurt and anger, Bong-Soon put away her things and grabbed an apron. Gook-Doo, in a surprising show of timeliness, hopped the counter and started prepping with her. “Which one was it this time?”

Bong-Soon started the coffee grinder. The roar almost drowned her out. “Bong-ki.”

“Of course. Cowards,” he grumbled, somehow cheery at this hour of the morning in spite of everything wrong with the world. Well, her world, but close enough. “Seriously, I don’t get why they bother calling. It’s not like you’re going to go skip home, saying, Eomma, I’m so glad my dreams of brilliance failed and I am so excited to work on the farm with you!” He used a disturbingly realistic falsetto to mimic her voice. 

She told him as much, to which he replied, “Ya, I’m just trying to raise your spirits.” He took her shoulders and lightly shook her. She was glad there were no customers here to witness this nonsense. 

Gook-Doo leaned forward to lock eyes with her. “Do not quit. Do. Not. You’ve got so much passion for doing good for everyone and you cannot let that go. I forbid it.”

She rolled her eyes. Changing the subject, she asked, “How’d you sleep?”

“How do you think?” Gook-Doo shot back. He sighed. “Better than usual, but still.”

Bong-Soon hummed sympathetically. PI training had been especially hard these past few months, since they were going over particularly gruesome past cases to look for ways to grow. Gook-Doo either wasn’t allowed or couldn’t say anything about it, but either way, it seemed to really weigh on him. Resolving to try to help, she said, “You know what would help?” 

Gook-Doo side-eyed her. “No…”

“Soju and shit talking.”

“I’m not sure I should…” he said. He hunched in on himself.

Okay, that was it. Bong-Soon couldn’t let this go. “It’s worth it. You’re sad and we’re gonna fix that.”

He caved, grumbling, “Fine, fine.”

There was a break between rushes, so Bong-Soon went to clear tables and sweep up while Gook-Doo held down the fort behind the counter. Min-Hyuk had slipped away from his usual spot, and since it looked like he had cleaned out one of their for-here cups of tea, she decided to clean off the space. You know, because she was nice like that and definitely not curious about the writing on his napkin.

To her surprise, it was some sort of note and it was addressed to her. Your work ethic is stunning and your cheer warms my heart. I hope you have a lovely evening. Face bright red, she snatched the napkin and hurried back behind the counter, brandishing it like some sort of weapon.

She showed Gook-Doo, who smiled and said, “This guy, really.”

Still blushing, she rolled her eyes. “What a punk. Hey, knock that look off your face.”

“What look?” He asked with completely false innocence. Shrugging, he added, “Maybe ask him?”

“What?”

“You heard me. You think he’s cute, bickering or no, and I refuse to listen to you whine about this until the end of time. But he’s coming over so—“ He pushed her forward. Strong she may be, but she was still small. This was unfortunately effective. “Shoo.”

“Hey.”

Min-hyuk tilted his head, face contemplative. “Can I help you?”

“I saw your note. What are you playing at, huh?” It burst out of Bong-Soon like a cup overfilled. Her face felt uncomfortably warm and she hoped it wasn’t embarrassingly red.

“I’m sorry?”

“You should be.” She stabbed at the napkin with her finger. “What kind of a joke is this? Explain yourself.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. What, is it so impossible that I might actually be nice to you?”

“Clearly,” she said dryly.

He leaned on the counter, staring her down. “Maybe I noticed how miserable you seem all the time and wanted to cheer you up.”

“As if. And I am not miserable, I’ll have you know.”

Min-hyuk scoffed. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“Whatever.” He stepped back. She felt….odd, now that he wasn’t in her space. Strange. “I need to get back to work.”

“Fine,” Min-hyuk said.

From behind the cash register, Gook-Doo called, “Thank you, finally.” She winced, realizing how much work she had been neglecting, and called out an apology.

Min-hyuk paused, seemed unable to form words, then whirled around and stormed away. Bong-Soon resolutely didn’t watch as he gathered his things. She did not. 

Chapter Text

“Alright, I’m taking thirty,” Bong-Soon called. 

“What, not two hours? Why not just go home if you need such a long rest?"

“Knock it off, Gook-Doo-ah.” She shot a look his way. Luckily, even grouchy as he was determined to be, Gook-Doo had the good sense to back off. He was no more fit to win a fight now than when they were kids, after all.

She yanked off her apron, grabbed her laptop bag, and snagged her personal favorite table—back corner, angled so that not every regular was liable to spot her.

While she waited for her laptop to boot up—the poor thing was destined to quit one of these days, but she wasn’t going to let it happen yet—, Bong-Soon sipped on her shift drink. Today it was a strawberry lemonade (technically not on the menu, but strawberry syrup is ridiculously easy to make and she used scraps from their pastries, so the owner could get over themselves) with extra strawberry bits tossed in for style. She downed half of it in one go, then got to work.

Her code was going to kill her. Maybe she just needed a rubber duck, but there was something wrong and she couldn’t find it for the life of her. She had combed through each line she suspected being at fault and nothing looked wrong. She had gone over her usual list of common issues. In a fit of desperation, she had even checked online forums to see if other people had dealt with the issue, but to no avail. But she could still be in the wrong… what to do, what to do…

“Gah, that’s it! I quit.” She pushed away from the table. Pacing around the room, Bong-Soon snatched up a broom and scrubbed the floor. It did little to relieve the boiling waves of frustration she could feel down to her bones. “I don’t want to be a programmer. I don’t want to code anything ever again in my whole life. I refuse.”

“Are you sure about that?” Gook-Doo called. 

She glared at him. “Yes, I am.”

“Prove it.”

“How? I’ll walk out right now if that’s what you’re saying.”

“Nah,” he said. “We need you here too badly. But I challenge you—I dare you—to take your break with no programming at all. Just this once.”

He called, “I’m sure you can find other ways to kill time.”

“Mhm. I will,” she shot back. Bong-Soon yanked out her chair, then sat. The chair legs scraped the ground, jarringly loud. Unsure what to do next, she tapped her fingers on the table. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. 

That didn’t feel quite right, so she shifted around to look at the room. Maybe there’s something interesting to study? No luck there. It was the same dusty, cozy, plant-filled room as always.

Great. In the process of brainstorming a distraction for herself, Bong-Soon had managed to make direct eye contact with Min-Hyuk. She couldn’t break it now—that would be defeat. But there was nothing she wanted more than to flee. His gaze unsettled her, as it always seemed to. She could never tell what he was thinking. Sure, he flirted often, but that was probably just a form of playing. It was light, friendly even. Even if his hair seemed artfully styled every time she saw him and his wool sweaters looked softer than anything she tended to throw on, that didn’t matter. He was only playing. He teased, that was all.

Another screech broke her train of thought. She blinked, coming back to reality right in time to see Min-Hyuk pull himself a chair. She blinked again, this time in pure disbelief. “What are you doing?”

He flashed her a grin. He could sell a shark toothpaste with that smile. This certainly wasn’t helping anything. “Sitting with you, of course. It’s my favorite spot, after all.”

“Really? I had no idea. That was my mistake—just let me gather my things.”

“Please don’t—“ he put out a hand, half frozen there— “I meant I wanted to sit with you.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. You’re the highlight of my day. I wasn’t going to leave you here, watching you be all—“ he gestured vaguely in her direction— “bored and lonely.”

“Ouch. Just what every woman wants to hear. That she looks dull and lonely.”

“Hey, you’re not dull…boring…whatever.” He winked. She looked away, unable to keep eye contact.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

His brow furrowed. “What question?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting with you, of course.” The espresso machine revved to life with a roar. Her mind would have been empty even without the distraction, but at least this offered an excuse, feeble as it was. “Why do you ask?”

“But that still doesn’t make sense. I know you’re here. I have eyes. What I don’t understand—“ she stomped. That wasn’t satisfying enough, so she slapped the table. Aish, that stung. “Quit laughing. What I don’t understand is why you’re here with me. What do you want from me?”

“What do I want?” Min-Hyuk scoffed. “Do I have to have a motive? You seem nice.”

At that, she burst into peals of laughter, the kind that made her lose breath for well over a minute. When she regained control of herself, she said, “I’m not nice.”

“That’s untrue.”

“In general, maybe, but never to you.”

“I can be patient.”

Bong-Soon raised an eyebrow.

“I can!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she shot back. Over Min-Hyuk’s shoulder, she caught sight of the time. “And I need to go. Work calls.”

“Fine, fine, I concede.”

She gathered her things and walked away. In spite of everything, she had actually not minded the break. Frustrated as she was with her code’s continual failure, the conversation had been oddly nice. How strange. And if later, in the privacy of her solitary closing routine, Bong-Soon found herself blushing at the thought of how he looked at her, that was no one’s business but her own. The shop could keep its own secrets well enough—what was one more in the grand scheme of it all?

Chapter Text

“And then I heard that there was something in the basement, and ooh I couldn’t stand it! I just had to shut the TV off.”

“Mm.”

“Then after that, I was getting ready for bed and I was terrified. I’m telling you, it was awful, how the house kept creaking and groaning like that.”

“Yeah.”

“Bong-Soon-ah!” Kyung-Shim smacked the counter. “I traveled all this way to visit and you keep ignoring me.”

Bong-Soon paused, then realized her friend was right. She had been absentminded all day, a concerning trend she had noticed at work. Last night had marked one month before the programming contest’s submission deadline and the dread of failure had snuck in alongside it. Because of that, she stayed up far later than normal. The bags under her eyes could probably hold groceries, or at least they felt that way.

“Yah!” Bong-Soon winced. She had spaced out again, hadn’t she? As she began prepping her shift drink—hopefully that would wake her up—, Kyung-Shim kept talking. “So? Where’s your hot friend I’ve heard so much about?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Oh—“ The grinder roared. “You know. Reasons.”

Searching her friend’s face, Bong-Soon decided, “Gook-Doo told you.”

“Mm. Now,” Kyung-Shim said. She tossed her hair dramatically and put on a pout. “Tell me all about it.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Are you sure? You certainly look like you couldn’t get someone off your mind last night.” Bong-Soon stopped tamping the espresso, wiped off her hands, and glared at her friend.

“I have not and will not lose sleep over that man.” Brandishing the tamper for emphasis, Bong-Soon continued to build up steam. “Yes, I did get terrible sleep, but this face? It’s because I am working and I cannot slow down, not now. Not when I’m so close.”

She set the espresso machine. As she kept ranting, Bong-Soon grabbed a towel and began vigorously wiping down the counter. “You know this. You’ve heard me talk about how important getting a foot into the programming industry is to me. And you want to stand here and tease about a boy?”

“Fine, forget I said anything.” Kyung-Shim sounded mad, but Bong-Soon didn’t bother looking at her to check. She was too busy fuming.

“Was that the only reason you visited?”

No answer. She poured her drink, finally adding the last bit of milk. The smell wafted up, fragrant, warm.

Bong-Soon looked out at the coffee shop. In the haze that often settled in shortly after the lunch hour, people lingered over their coffee and pastries. Their work often sat in their bags, unappealing compared to the welcome relief of a quiet moment midday. She breathed in, soaking up the rich air. The familiar blend of coffee and lemon its own kind of rest.

Then— “I’m sorry, you know.”

Bong-Soon looked up. Kyung-Shim’s shoulders hung beside her, limp like cut strings. She was sincere, then. Well. “Okay. I’ve got more work to do, so please move.”

“Bong-Soon-ah, hey—” Kyung-Shim stretched out a hand, pleading— “don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to brush me off with work. You always do.”

That cut her to the core. But Bong-Soon would always give as good as she got, so she shot back, “How can I always do it when you’re never here? How does that work, hm?”

“Fine,” Kyung-Shim snapped. A customer walked up, eyeing the two of them nervously.

Still, they broke the tension, sending the two girls giggling—Bong-Soon trying to be quiet and Kyung-Shim being unhelpful in that area. After they settled down and the customer had been served, Bong-Soon admitted, “…You might be right, though. About my feelings, I mean.”

“Really?”

Kyung-Shim’s eyes widened. She leaned in closer and Bong-Soon could tell she was resisting the temptation to pry. She decided to offer another white flag. After quickly scanning the room to make sure the wrong person couldn’t overhear, she told her everything that happened thus far. “I won’t say I like him, but he is definitely cute. Plus, there’s definitely something…”

“I knew Gook-Doo was right!” She crowed.

“Yah, there’s no need to rub it in.”

They stayed a bit awkward for the rest of the shift, but the two friends knew they would be alright. They always were. And besides, they had bigger things to worry about—like the programming contest Bong-Soon was all worked up over.

Chapter Text

Bong-Soon bustled through her apartment, scattering belongings throughout the entryway and kitchen before finally collapsing onto the couch. It was a ratty, questionably clean old thing, but the faded red fabric always caught her exactly how she needed. I’ll start dinner soon… Let me just…

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

She startled awake. It was morning already, well after the shop should have opened. Aish, no, no, you’ve got to be kidding. Bong-Soon sprinted to yank her shoes back on, not bothering to change or grab breakfast when her job was on the line. Maybe the owner will be understanding? Gook-Doo was supposed to open with me, so maybe he didn’t even notice.

With that cheery thought, she ran to her car and tossed in her bag. Half of the contents rolled out onto the floor, but she tried to ignore it.

“Aish, what do I say?” she thought aloud.

No time for debating—she was there. After sprinting to the entrance, she paused to quickly straighten her hair and clothes. Breathing deeply, she strode inside as if nothing was wrong.

Gook-Doo called out a greeting. Then he turned and saw that it was her. Her friend grimaced. Oh no. “Something for you, Bong-Soon-ah.”

“Yeah?” She replied, trying for a normal tone. “Let me just grab my apron.”

“I… wouldn’t.”

No, no, he wouldn’t— “Is it what I think?”

“Here.” Gook-Doo slid a piece of paper across the counter. “It may be better to read it yourself.”

Bong-Soon scanned the note for clues, but the truth was undeniable.

She was fired.

There was a number she could call at the bottom to speak to the owner directly about her termination, but this was just ridiculous. They had never even met her! For all Bong-Soon knew, the owner was some weirdo or creep who didn’t know the first thing about customer service or employee loyalty. Merciless, greedy jerk…

“If it makes you feel any better, Bong-Soon-ah—“

She snorted. “Sure.” It’s not like things could get worse.

“…the note was here when I came in to open.” She stood corrected. That was decidedly much, much worse. “Don’t do that! It’s not like it was my call or anything; I’m just the lackey who got stuck telling you.”

Bong-Soon tried to relax her face. She hadn’t realized she was glaring daggers, but now that Gook-Doo mentioned it, she could feel the tension in her arms and face. Deep breaths, right?

“It’s a poor move, honestly; you’re the most dedicated person on staff.”

“I know that, Gook-Doo.” She reread the note, tossing it down in disgust at the bare-bones termination. “That doesn’t tell me where I went wrong, because clearly I did something.”

“Well, I mean, you have been distracted the last few months. These last few weeks have gotten even worse if I’m being honest. Maybe the owner heard you weren’t connecting with the other staff as much as normal…”

“Hey, I go out with the others plenty.” Mostly. Although recently, she had just been so tired… aish, that’s probably it, huh?

“You should still give him a call or something. Who knows? Maybe you could fix it.”

She side-eyed her friend. “Maybe. But not right now. I need to be less angry than this. I might punch them if I met them now.”

Gook-Doo clapped a hand on her back. With a grin, he said, “There’s my mature, grown-up Bong-Soon-ah! You’ll blow the boss away with your points and totally get the job back.”

Bong-Soon grinned back. If nothing else, she had always wondered who their boss actually was. Her earlier uncharitable thoughts aside, the place was unique enough that she thought the owner was probably quite eccentric. They would be interesting to talk to, at least. She hoped they were or this would be even more painful. And all this three days before her designs were due? This has to be some sort of joke.

Chapter Text

Her apartment was truly horrid. The place felt stale, even though she had only been holed up for a few days, and the grease from her last pizza run hung in the air. Though it wouldn’t help her financial state in the long run—and the terror of not having a job hit her whenever she saw it—Bong-Soon couldn’t help but resort to takeout and other junky, quick meals. If she bothered to go in her bedroom (which she didn’t, nowadays), she would find a terror-inducing mound of laundry slowly eating its way across the floor. At this rate, she would need to find an alternate route to her bedside chest of drawers soon.

The contest didn’t help matters. Because she had nothing else to fill her time, Bong-Soon needed to busy herself. The programming competition proved to be the perfect outlet. Plus, the monetary prize was another strong incentive, she had to admit. This was no longer merely her dreams at stake; Bong-Soon was counting on the prize money to tide her over as she searched for the next job. She couldn’t use her meager savings now, not if she had any other way to make it by. She couldn’t.

One more line of code.

She blinked furiously, trying to clear the spots from her vision. It’s fine. She downed an energy drink.

Just one more line of code, then I can test it and call it for the night.

Her hands shook as she thought of the impersonal note that had overturned her life. She had never met the owner, never spoken to them once, and yet the coldness stung. Sunrise Sip had felt like home to her, crappy as that sounded. No, it wasn’t her dream job, but there was a rhythm to the work that filled her with a sense of rightness she couldn’t properly put into words. She spoke to people, created something with her hands, and helped make people smile a bit brighter every shift.

It was a small life. Nothing of consequence, sure. But it was hers all the same—and now it was just gone.

I can do this. Come on, Bong-Bong.

Her mother’s disgust flashed in her mind. Too tired to dismiss it, Bong-Soon simply sighed and let the disappointment wash over her. 

Their last phone call came to mind.  She had fought her mother’s whining to come back home. It wasn’t her home, not really, not when they just wanted to use her for her strength.

Bong-Soon wasn’t a tool or just a body or something to be used. Labor wasn’t bad, but expecting her to fulfill their needs when they directly contradicted her gifts was tearing her apart.

But her mother wouldn’t let it go. She was angry, that was clear; worse still, she manipulated everyone. Bong-Soon didn’t understand how her father and brother never seemed to see it. She cried, raged, snapped, pleaded—anything to get the reaction she wanted.

Honestly, it hurt.

More than that, it was incredibly frustrating.

Eomma?

She hadn’t called her mother that name in so long. It left her mouth sour, stinging with false closeness. Phantom children with pink sneakers raced through her mind, giggling all the while. Trusting endlessly, effortlessly, as though love was an infinite resource. Unbearable.

Now Bong-Soon lost another home. There was no changing it, no turning back; she just had to roll over and take it.

One more line of code and then I can run it.

Just this bit.

Wait, what if I…?

Bong-Soon kept adding line after line after line of code until the sun rose high in the sky and her tears finally dried.

———————

Ahn Min-Hyuk was normally a cheery sort of guy. He considered himself affable, capable, mysterious on a good day. So the dreariness he had felt for the past several days was unfamiliar. Honestly, he was exhausted by it.

“Do you think it worked?” He asked Gook-Doo, pulling up a seat at the side counter. Tucked away from customers, it was his favorite way to get a feel for how the shop was doing. Asking people only got you so far and it often off-put people far more than it helped.

“Min, man, I haven’t heard from her once. Frankly, I’m on the verge of pulling out my training—and that could get me suspended, do you get that?

“So no,” he said, hitting the coffee-press-tool with what Min-Hyuk felt was surely too much force, “No, I don’t think this is working like you dreamed.”

“I didn’t expect things to be perfect.”

“Surely you realized how much telling her she had failed at her job would crush her though, right?”

Min-Hyuk shrugged. She seemed plenty confident enough in turning him down. Sure, she didn’t know he was her boss, but that took some serious nerve to maintain a professional line.

Gook-Doo glared at him. “You didn’t even give her the dignity of telling her in person. You denied her a conversation about why you let her go. And you might have destroyed her in the process.”