"Why do you always take the credit for my work?" Jin-ho's voice trembled, though he tried to keep the anger out of it.
The fluorescent lights buzzed in the office, casting an unflattering glare on the outdated furniture. Across the desk, Choi Min-jae leaned back in his chair, twirling a sleek silver pen between his fingers. His lips curled into that smug, infuriating smirk Jin-ho had grown to hate.
"Why?" Min-jae tilted his head like Jin-ho had asked something absurd. "Because you're not going to do anything about it. That's why."
The pen stopped twirling as Min-jae pointed it at Jin-ho like a weapon. "Do you even hear yourself right now? Complaining to me about how life isn't fair? God, you sound pathetic."
Jin-ho clenched his fists under the desk, his nails biting into his palms. "That presentation was mine," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady. "I stayed up for three nights working on it. I ran the numbers. I fixed the entire draft after you-"
"After I submitted it to the client and saved the deal," Min-jae interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "You're good at grunt work, Jin-ho. But the workplace isn't about hard work. It's about knowing where to place the blame when shit hits the fan."
Jin-ho's jaw tightened. "You mean someone else's shoulders."
"Exactly!" Min-jae said with a laugh, like Jin-ho had finally gotten the joke. He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me give you some advice, kid. Keep your head down. Smile when I take credit. Do what I say, and you might actually keep this job."
Jin-ho stared at him, stunned by the sheer audacity. Was this a joke to him? Did Min-jae even realize how many nights Jin-ho had spent in that suffocating office, hunched over spreadsheets, sacrificing what little life he had for this job?
Apparently not.
"Oh, one more thing," Min-jae added as he stood, brushing invisible lint off his designer suit. "You've got a disciplinary meeting next week. Don't look so surprised; it's about that supplier contract issue. Turns out, it was signed incorrectly."
Jin-ho blinked. "But that wasn't me. I wasn't even in the office that day."
Min-jae patted him on the shoulder, the gesture as fake as his crocodile smile. "Don't worry. I told HR I'd vouch for you. They might let you keep your pathetic little position... assuming you take the fall gracefully."
The words were like a punch to the gut. Jin-ho felt his stomach churn as Min-jae walked away, humming to himself like nothing had happened.
Jin-ho didn't remember how long he sat there, staring blankly at the computer screen. His hands hovered over the keyboard, but the words wouldn't come.
The office around him bustled with life. Phones rang incessantly. Colleagues chatted by the water cooler, their laughter sharp and grating. Somewhere behind him, the copier whirred as someone printed a thick stack of papers. It was a cacophony of sound, but none of it touched him. He felt like he was underwater, watching the world pass him by through a murky haze.
How did it come to this?
He thought of the job interview five years ago when he had walked into this same office with bright eyes and big dreams. Back then, he'd believed in hard work. In fairness. In the idea that if he just kept pushing forward, success would eventually find him.
But that was a lifetime ago.
The sun was already setting by the time Jin-ho left the building. He clutched his worn-out backpack tightly as he stepped onto the crowded Seoul street, the chill of the evening air biting at his skin. Neon signs flickered to life above him, painting the sidewalks in shades of electric blue and crimson.
People hurried past, their faces illuminated by the glow of their phones. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be, something important to do. Jin-ho felt like a ghost, invisible in the rush of life around him.
As he walked, the weight of his situation pressed down on him. His landlord had already given him one too many warnings about late rent. His bills were piling up, unopened envelopes shoved into the back of his desk drawer. And now he was about to lose the only thing keeping him afloat.
He stopped at a convenience store, staring blankly at the shelves of instant noodles and cheap snacks. His stomach growled, but he couldn't bring himself to move.
What's the point?
The sound of laughter snapped him out of his daze.
He turned to see a group of men standing outside the store, cans of beer in hand. His heart sank when he recognized them. Min-jae and two other coworkers, laughing loudly as they shared some joke at his expense.
"You should've seen his face," Min-jae said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Poor bastard actually thought he could take credit for something."
The others laughed, their voices loud and sharp in the cold night air. Jin-ho's grip on his backpack tightened as he turned to leave, but their next words stopped him in his tracks.
"Anyway, about tomorrow," one of them said, lowering his voice. "You're sure So-yeon's the best target? HR loves her. This could blow back on us."
Min-jae snorted. "Exactly why it'll hurt more when she takes the fall. Relax; I've already laid the groundwork. She won't know what hit her."
Jin-ho's fists clenched at his sides. So-yeon was one of the few people in the office who had always been kind to him. She didn't deserve this.
Minutes later, Jin-ho found himself following So-yeon as she walked home. His heart pounded with every step, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to warn her.
"So-yeon!" he called out, his voice hoarse.
She turned, her expression puzzled. "Jin-ho? What's wrong?"
Before he could answer, the sound of screeching brakes filled the air.
Jin-ho's head snapped toward the intersection just in time to see a truck hurtling toward them, its headlights glaring like twin suns.
Time slowed.
Without thinking, Jin-ho lunged forward, shoving So-yeon out of the truck's path.
Pain exploded through his body as the truck slammed into him, sending him crashing onto the pavement. The cold seeped into his skin, sharp and unrelenting. Somewhere in the distance, he heard So-yeon screaming, but the sound was muffled, like he was underwater again.
As Jin-ho lay there, the world fading around him, his thoughts came in fragments.
I didn't get the job I wanted. I didn't make my parents proud. I didn't even have the guts to stand up for myself.
But then he thought of So-yeon's face, which was alive and unscathed.
Maybe I wasn't completely useless after all.
And then everything went dark.