The crowd outside the small auditorium murmured in hushed tones as Kim Hajin adjusted the tie around his neck.
The stiff fabric felt like a noose, but he had no choice.
This was graduation day, and even if he was at the bottom of his class, he was expected to look the part.
He glanced at the crumpled program in his hands.
His name, listed dead last, glared back at him.
A reminder of how unremarkable his college journey had been.
As the ceremony concluded, Hajin shuffled off stage with his diploma.
Trying to ignore the disappointed glances from his parents in the audience.
Second class, last place—it wasn't exactly a resume highlight.
Still, he couldn't dwell on it.
He had a job lined up, a small victory in a string of otherwise mediocre outcomes.
The position was with Mirae Ventures, a mid-sized investment firm with a decent reputation.
It wasn't glamorous, but it was stable—or so he thought.
