Kyunghee had a sister.
Her name was Ahn Yoori. The two were no longer a part of each other's lives, but it wasn't always like this. Kyunghee's estranged relationship with Yoori began a few years after their mother left. In fact, when Gong Miryung abandoned her girls, she had also given Kyunghee—her eldest—the responsibility of single-handedly gluing the broken pieces back together.
When Gong Miryung packed up her bags and left, Yoori had only been nine years old. She was still quite young to fully grasp the situation.
Kyunghee had come home from school that day to find a handwritten letter from their mother, telling them how unhappy she was with their life. Gong Miryung could no longer live in that kind of misery; she needed an escape. Her boyfriend had offered her a once in a lifetime chance for escape, but on the condition that she would have to choose between her children or him.
Kyunghee didn't know who was crueler—that man for making a woman choose between her children and him, or that woman for her heartless decision.
At fourteen, she remembered how she had ran out the house with tears streaming down her face as she hysterically searched for her mother everywhere in the neighborhood. She knocked doors, asked strangers, and begged the neighbors for help. Some of them tried to help, but when she showed them the letter, they merely shook their heads and went home. They told her that she was wasting her time searching for someone who had left on her own free will.
Kyunghee didn't believe them. How could she believe them? How could she readily believe that a mother would abandon her young children? So Kyunghee searched for hours until reality eventually knocked down the last barrier of hope.
Gong Miryung left. She wasn't lost or hiding somewhere; she had abandoned them for good. When Kyunghee finally gave up looking for her mother and came home, Yoori had been waiting and crying from the chaos and confusion. She had asked for their mother, but Kyunghee didn't know what to tell her little sister. How could she put it in a way that wouldn't break Yoori's fragile heart?
Kyunghee simply hugged Yoori, and they both cried. Their mother left them with nothing but shattered pieces of the heart, a shaken will, and a dreadful reputation as the druggie's daughters. Some part of them died that day.
Even though Kyunghee didn't say anything, perhaps Yoori had already known—or at least felt it—on some subconscious level. Wanting to save Yoori from the pain, Kyunghee hid the letter and came up with lies until the lie could no longer be kept. One month after they were abandoned, the social workers found them.
Yoori had never asked to see the letter. In fact, the moment the social workers found them, Yoori never asked for her mother again. Kyunghee never talked about it either. In a lot of ways, it was like they were both secretly trying to protect each other from reopening the sordid wound. But the more they tried to act as if having no mother was a normal thing, the more painful it became to face reality. So they kept hiding, kept lying to each other, to themselves.
Unfortunately, being found by the social workers also meant they could no longer live together due to their age differences. Since Yoori was still young, she was taken to an orphanage facilitated by a not-for-profit organization. On the other hand, Kyunghee was placed in the foster care system. Despite not being able to live together, the two were still able to keep in contact. Kyunghee would visit and volunteer at the orphanage center every day just so she could keep an eye on her little sister.
For two years, things weren't bad. They adjusted to their new life as they went about normal things, such as going to school and making friends. Then things turned for the worse, until it got to the point of being irreparable…
"Kyunghee!"
Kyunghee snapped out of her reverie, her head whirling to the sound of her name. Jiwon's face appeared in her line of sight. Kyunghee realized she had been staring at a pair of arguing sisters who looked about ten to fourteen years old and zoning out in a daze, until Jiwon called for her attention.
"What are you thinking about that you're so focused?" Jiwon arched an eyebrow.
They were sitting at the food court at Lotte World. The drone show they came to watch had just finished half an hour ago. A lot of people were getting ready to leave the park since the sky had darkened and the park was about to close in an hour. Kyunghee and Jiwon was in the middle of finishing up their food court dinner when Kyunghee's attention landed on the pair of siblings. Memories flooded to mind as her heart ached for her own sister to be by her side.
Kyunghee smiled wanly. As much as she trusted and respected Jiwon, there were some things she didn't want to talk about. Yoori was one such topic. Even though Jiwon knew Kyunghee had a little sister, she didn't know the details of their past.
"Unnie, what did you think Bongseok meant by that text he sent to the staff's group chat?" Kyunghee asked thoughtfully, steering the conversation in another direction. "Why is he suddenly prohibiting us from letting customers tip us on stage?"
Earlier this afternoon, Bongseok pinned an announcement to the staff's group chat, stipulating that dancers were no longer allowed to accept tips from customers on stage. Customers were also prohibited from going up on stage and would have to remain a distance from the dancers. Customers were also not allowed to film such videos and post it on social media. This brought about a whole bunch of questions and confusion from the girls. Why was he prohibiting them from earning more money? And what did he mean by customers had to remain a distance? It was contradictory to the services they were selling.
The group chat had been going off with an endless supply of dissatisfaction from the girls. Unsurprisingly, Bongseok went silent after he pinned the announcement and simply said that it was "management's discretion".
"It doesn't make any sense what he's saying," Kyunghee analyzed. "Not that I'm complaining about the no filming videos, but what made him change his mind? He was all for the social media gimmick."
Jiwon perused Kyunghee's bewildered expression, sighing inwardly to herself. My dear, the reason is you, she wanted to say but held back. Instead Jiwon shrugged it off. "Maybe he has a better idea or maybe management really doesn't like his promotional tactics. I don't really know what goes on in that man's head. Enough about him. Have you started looking for a new place? You said you wanted to move to a new area because of the other tenants."
Kyunghee shook her head. "I'll start later when I get home."
"If you really can't stand it, you can live with me until you find a place," Jiwon offered kindly. She had some idea of the judgemental and nasty tenants Kyunghee called 'neighbors', especially the annoying couple upstairs. The wife's suspicions was never-ending and the husband had wandering eyes. "I can't imagine how insufferable that couple from hell is."
"I'll be fine. I've put up with them for so long. I can certainly hold it in for a couple more weeks. Thank you though, unnie," Kyunghee declined. Although living with Jiwon temporarily was a very tempting offer, Kyunghee didn't want to inconvenience her.
"Darling, if you need any help, don't be afraid to ask me," Jiwon supported. There was a long pause before she added, "You have a habit of not asking for help and taking on all the responsibilities. I know it's because you had to grow up faster than other people when you were young, but Kyunghee, humans are born social. We have to rely and depend on other people to survive." Jiwon reached over and grabbed Kyunghee's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I see you as my little sister, so treat me like your unnie. Let me know if you need any support."
"Jiwon unnie, having you in my life is enough support. If it wasn't for you when I was at my darkest moments, I…" Trailing off, Kyunghee couldn't find it in herself to complete the sentence. Even recalling the memories of that incident had her throat clogged up as a deep sense of sorrow and loss seeped into her soul. Inhaling deeply, Kyunghee grinned reassuringly, "Anyway, just don't get annoyed with me when I'm constantly bugging you for things. By then, it will be too late for you to regret."
"I'm waiting for you to come annoy me anytime. Anyway, should we get going?" Jiwon looked around the emptying amusement park. "There's not much to do here now that the show's over. Looks like they're going to close soon too."
Jiwon had an evening appointment, so the two of them said goodbye at the gate. Kyunghee stood and waved as Jiwon's cab slowly disappeared, feeling uplifted after talking to Jiwon. When the cab was out of sight, Kyunghee turned around and started making her way toward the nearest bus station. Instead of heading home right away, Kyunghee decided to stop by the nearest supermarket to grab a couple of things.
"Ahh! Help! Help! Thief! Please somebody stop him!"
Right then, Kyunghee felt someone bump their shoulder into hers, nearly causing her to trip and fall over on to the sidewalk. Catching her balance, Kyunghee realized there was a frail, elderly woman crying out, chasing breathlessly after the man who had just ran away with her purse.
Kyunghee rushed over and held the elder woman's arm for support. "Halmoni, are you okay?"
"Help…he—he took my purse. Please help!" The elderly lady panted, pointing a shaky finger after the figure. She suddenly grabbed a hold of Kyunghee's hand and looked at her with shimmering, tearful eyes, pleading woefully, "Please help me! My—my purse…!"
The look in the elder woman's eyes grabbed Kyunghee's heart, squeezing the breath out of it and for some reason, causing it to throb in sympathy. Aside from the fact it was basic human decency and required respect for the elders, there was also something indescribable in the woman's eyes that wouldn't allow Kyunghee to say no.
"Halmoni, stay here," Kyunghee said, then she turned around and sprinted after the culprit. "Stop! You thieving bastard!" Kyunghee shouted angrily, forcing her legs to run even faster as she chased the culprit across the streets. What kind of an immoral jerk would steal from an old granny? She gritted her teeth in determination.
"Move!" Suddenly, a shadow appeared out of nowhere and bumped her to the side.
Kyunghee was shoved aside, hard and unexpectedly. She fell to the ground on her knees, scraping it on the asphalt in the process.
Has anyone ever tried being knocked down by a six-foot-something giant with heavy-weight muscles? It was highly recommended if you wanted a scraped knee and a taste of what it was like to temporarily stop breathing. Perhaps you might even see the entire solar system dancing as an encore.
Kyunghee was instantly flung to the side like a flimsy rag doll while the shadow blurred past and chased after the snatch thief in her sstead. Meanwhile, Kyunghee groaned in pain at her scraped flesh and ripped jeans, feeling a bit dizzy from being shoved so roughly. When she looked up, she was horrified to catch a glimpse of the person responsible for knocking her over so callously.