008. Tribulations (1)
While Im Seong-u and Shin Na-young were flirting sweetly, Kim A-ram gripped the wheel of a black Sonata, navigating the road. It was jammed up tight, just like her heart.
Why... why the hell do I have to do this?
Kim A-ram had never imagined she'd be stuck driving—of all things—after graduating from a four-year university.
"Today, I'll be your driver, babe..."
Back in college, there had been plenty of senior guys like that, which probably colored her views from the start... Anyway, that's how she saw it.
Driving's for chauffeurs or dads.
Because she was a proud mobile game planner.
Programmers are day laborers!
Animators are a dime a dozen!
Animator? Isn't that just a low-rent artist?
With prejudices like that, it was no surprise. But now, at the bottom of the office food chain, Kim A-ram's situation had flipped. She had no choice.
Im Su-yeon and Yoon Se-hee climbed into the back seat as if it were the most natural thing in the world, fiddling with their smartphones. Kim A-ram, hit with unprecedented disdain for the first time, panicked.
The driver's seat, empty as always. Their attitude screamed it was obvious.
Today's driver: Kim A-ram.
These... fucking bitch sluts...!
Though, wasn't "bitch" kinda racist? Like calling out "brown pussy" as an insult? Lumping all dark-skinned folks together in some low-class jab? Nah... whatever.
A year ago, I wouldn't have let them get away with this!
Back then, Kim A-ram had been the center of office politics. In a five-person team making an online game—where scheming was the norm—her authority was ironclad.
But now?
Honk honk!
"Hey, A-ram."
"Unnie! I'll buy coffee today!"
"Unnie, isn't Seong-u seriously hilarious?"
"Unnie... sigh. Overtime again tonight, huh? When do you think we'll make it big?"
Im Su-yeon, who used to fawn over her with "unnie this, unnie that." But she'd betrayed her.
"Drive straight, A-ram."
Even dropping the sweet "unnie" title.
"If you cut in there without signaling, you'll get chewed out? What the hell are you even doing? No blinker..."
Kim A-ram bit her lip hard. Her planner's face flushed tomato-red—not from embarrassment like Shin Na-young, but pure rage.
"Unnie, seriously... don't bad female drivers piss you off? We're the ones who get shit because of them, right?"
That was Im Su-yeon's usual refrain. Maybe that's why she drove like a pro, desperate not to get flak—honed like an old man whittling a bat to perfection. She handled the wheel like a ten-year Busan cabbie.
Under Im Su-yeon's flashy critique barrage, Kim A-ram's stomach churned, her blood pressure spiking to near-death levels. She cursed inwardly.
Accident? Didn't happen! No accident means it's fine! Argh! Fuck!
But Im Su-yeon thought differently.
"Stoooop!!!"
Screeech!
"A-ram! You just tried to blow through the crosswalk? Are you insane?"
"Sorry, I'm sorry... argh..."
Im Su-yeon exploded at her.
"Gear! Put it in gear! Shit... don't you know gears? N! Neutral! N for neutral when you park!"
Was it some trauma from getting shit for being a woman driver? Whatever world turned her into this half-mad monster, Kim A-ram didn't know. But the stress was giving her tics that weren't there before as she drove to Gwanggyo.
Suddenly, Im Su-yeon yelled.
"Fifty show!"
"...?"
Kim A-ram blinked blankly. Fifty show? She'd never heard the term in her life.
"Fifty show! Don't you know fifty show? This is a school zone! Ugh, people like you make all Korean women look bad! Speed! Slow down! Slooow doooown!!!"
"Eek..."
Yoon Se-hee hid her face behind her bangs, trembling in terror.
A fine arts major, Twitter vet of six years, artist extraordinaire. In rap battles, she could smoke 70% of Korean rappers. Give her ammo, and nothing stopped her—not even against Im Su-yeon types who schemed quietly. Hand them a pretext, and they turned traitor-harsh like colonial stooges.
Ugh... uuugh...
Kim A-ram pondered why this was happening. She reached one conclusion.
This... this is Im Seong-u's fault!
Normally, Im Seong-u or Han Yu-ra drove. But now she was. If Im Seong-u had driven, she wouldn't be getting reamed.
That was her logic.
"A-ram... not blaming you or anything, but I'll drive."
Im Seong-u's lazy offer.
"Hah. If you're so good, do it yourself! You're making it obvious."
"...Yeah, okay."
Back then, Kim A-ram accepted without thinking.
He's doing it 'cause I'm pretty, 'cause I'm worth it...
Just like that. Then a odd fact hit her.
But... when Im Seong-u drove, Im Su-yeon never said a word?
Kim A-ram ground her teeth. She had to admit it.
She might not drive as a planner... driving might be for lowly coders... but still.
Im Seong-u... you were good at driving too.
"Kim A-ram. Out."
Im Su-yeon's voice cut like a blade. No hope in this story. Kim A-ram was always the blockhead, Im Su-yeon the asshole.
Im Su-yeon started laying into her.
"Park on the shoulder! What the hell, stopping in the middle of the road? Crazy?"
Ugh...
Kim A-ram's tear ducts stung. She pulled over with a turtle neck hunch. When the tiger's away, the fox plays, huh? Getting chewed by a junior was pure humiliation.
"Before pulling to the shoulder! Blinker! Turn signal!"
"Hic... ugh..."
Now the real nagging began.
"Kim A-ram... when we get to Gwanggyo, there's a driving test. If you fail, you're done."
"Sob, hic..."
In a way, Im Su-yeon was a saint. Teaching a closet-license holder like Kim A-ram. But no room for thanks.
Im Su-yeon said it herself.
"See, Kim A-ram... when you stop, gear to N. Got it? Yeah?"
I know that... you fucking bitch... I got my license too...
But Im Su-yeon, veins bulging red in her eyes, looked ready to kill if she didn't drive right.
"Answer!"
"Y-yes..."
Thoroughly cowed, Kim A-ram got ferried to Gwanggyo. The cramped sedan felt like Prince Sado's rice chest.
...
Finally, Gwanggyo. But those 30 minutes were just the appetizer. Kim A-ram's hell was only beginning.
"Su-yeon... help? Carrying this... too heavy alone..."
Like lugging heavy stuff. A four-seater solid wood table was way too much for her solo.
But twin-tailed Im Su-yeon today was ice-cold, uncooperative.
She used to "unnie unnie" and help so nicely...!
"Whatever."
"Wh-what do you mean whatever..."
"Figure it out, A-ram. So annoying."
Then she added,
"See, you and Se-hee are taller than me, right?"
"..."
"So you'd be the most help moving this table, yeah?"
Utter bullshit logic. By that, construction sites would hire by height, boxers by weight class too.
This is about team spirit!
Kim A-ram's anti-individualist hatred bubbled up—ironic, since she'd said nothing when Im Seong-u worked.
Why not use plastic tables...?
Why? Im Seong-u's back flashed in her mind.
"Whoa, Seong-u swims? Nice build."
"Yeah... so?"
"Help with this? Pretty pleeease?"
"Sigh. Ask nicely next time? Yeah?"
Grumbling, he'd always helped. Lifting heavy shit, moving crap—he looked fit, so she used him thoughtlessly.
A year later, she finally got it.
Was Im Seong-u... that considerate? Or maybe...
Her brain hit a revelation.
Me...
Kim A-ram realized.
Gasp... it's 'cause I'm too pretty!
Anyway, huffing, she and Yoon Se-hee hauled the table. Event halls usually had wheeled ones, but not here. Darkness closed in.
No... if he liked me, he wouldn't have. Was he just nice?
Like sprouts after drought, intelligence sprouted in her brain.
He drove, jumped in for heavy lifts. What did I do? Why take it for granted?
She eyed Im Su-yeon, sucking candy, gaming annoyed on her phone.
Im Su-yeon whining didn't lighten Kim A-ram's load unless she helped.
Still, it pissed her off.
Aah... I...
At least, lounging with a lollipop while someone slaved wasn't human.
Now she knew.
"...Su-yeon."
"What."
Pre-event, Im Su-yeon had earbuds in. Flames rose in Kim A-ram.
Too much... even if...
Counter-thought: Did I do this to Seong-u? No! I was nicer! Probably! Nicer than this bitch!
"Can't you help a bit?"
"Hah."
She crescent-eyed Kim A-ram.
"Unnie, hilarious."
"..."
"Forgot what you did? Nuked the whole server and expect me to work? Joke's on you?"
"..."
"You and Se-hee do it."
Kim A-ram's vision blurred.
"Do good, A-ram. Any fuckup's on you, got it?"
Promoted Im Seong-u had dumped responsibility on her—unrelated to her life.
But now, this first taste of duty crushed her.
Ugh... why, world... why me...!
Unfair world, she vented inwardly.
Why these trials on me!
Yeah.
...
Morning. Post-setup rush, YouTubers into Sepiros Online trickled in.
Exhausted, Kim A-ram shouted.
"Yes, demos here!"
"Thanks."
Simple job: Reset programs pre-demo. No real people skills needed. Just parrot her script.
Im Su-yeon...!
Even now, that woman slacked openly—no sign, probably smoking, skipping the event.
Jealousy flared.
Ugh... why me! Why this shit!
At least, she didn't deserve it—in her mind. Even killers pity themselves, right?
So, burning up, she called Yoon Se-hee.
"Se-hee!"
"...Y-yes, uh, yes?"
A bit uneasy. Back when servers blew, she'd framed Yoon Se-hee.
Cornered then, Yoon Se-hee had snapped:
"Hic! Fuck! Sniff! I didn't!!! I swear!!! Why! Why meee!!!"
"..."
Like stacking cards. But couldn't skip coding. With astronomical reparations looming, this risk was worth it.
"Come greet people."
"B-but..."
"Su-yeon's gone, I've been busting ass! Right?"
"O-okay, got it..."
Socially challenged Yoon Se-hee took flyers, stood rigid.
Good. Standing's a full person's share. Got it?
Should be fine. Like fire safety ad starts, Kim A-ram relaxed.
Now... code a bit!
"Can't code at home? Or outside the venue?!"
Ugh...
Guilt squeezed her inexplicably, but she ignored it.