Prologue
Prologue
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Inside the empty kitchen, Jo Minjoon quietly stared at the clock.
Don’t go. Stop.
Despite his silent plea, the second hand continued moving steadily, just as it always did.
11:59:57.
Fifty-eight seconds.
Fifty-nine seconds.
And then, midnight.
It was New Year’s Eve. Jo Minjoon had reached the end of his twenties and the beginning of his thirties.
He let out a deep sigh as a sudden weariness washed over him. Time had passed so quickly, yet when he thought about everything he had spent those years doing, it seemed as though he had gained nothing at all.
Jo Minjoon had been a high school teacher. More precisely, an English teacher. Like most teaching jobs, it was neither a particularly successful career nor a failure. At least, that had been true until the spring of his twenty-eighth year.
Then, in March, Jo Minjoon resigned from his teaching position.
He knew teaching was not meant for him. In fact, he had never once dreamed of becoming a teacher. Ever since he was young, what Jo Minjoon had wanted was to become a chef.
However, he had been unable to go against his parents’ wishes. At the time, Jo Minjoon had decent grades and had already been accepted into university through early admission. So when he suddenly announced that he wanted to become a chef instead, what parents would have supported such a rash decision?
Ten years passed after that.
Jo Minjoon followed his parents’ wishes and eventually secured a position at a high school. But that was all. His parents kept telling him that one day he would thank them for it, but that day never came. Yes, the job was stable, but all Jo Minjoon felt was emptiness.
In the end, he resigned.
Afterwards, he began working at a restaurant. He found a job as a dishwasher at a famous restaurant in Gangnam. He washed dishes for half a year, and after a year, he finally began making salads and other simple side dishes.
That was everything he had accomplished in thirty years of life.
On New Year’s Day, with nowhere else to go, he sat alone in a dark, empty kitchen and watched time pass.
There was no point complaining about it now. This was a choice he had made himself, so he had no right to complain about how frustrating his life had become.
Just then, a chime sounded, and the restaurant lights came on.
“Oh, Minjoon hyung. You’re still here?”
(Translator’s Note: Hyung —A Korean term used by a male speaker to address or refer to an older brother or an older male with whom he has a relatively close relationship. It can be used between relatives, friends, and male colleagues and reflects Korea’s age-based social hierarchy.)
It was Park Yooseok. He was two years younger than Jo Minjoon, but he was still his superior at work. He was expected to become head chef within the next few years.
“Ah, yes. Sunbae. What brings you here?” Jo Minjoon spoke to him politely. He had little choice. Hierarchy was strictly observed in the culinary world.
(Translator’s Note: Sunbae —A Korean term for someone senior within the same school, university, workplace, profession, or organisation. Seniority is generally based on experience or entry order rather than simply age.)
Park Yooseok pretended that Jo Minjoon’s respectful manner made him uncomfortable, but secretly, he enjoyed it.
Park Yooseok took a wallet from one corner of the kitchen and waved it in front of Jo Minjoon.
“Ah, what a relief. I thought I’d left it somewhere else. Hyung, peel those garlic cloves while I go. Looks like we’re running low. Since you’re already here, wouldn’t it be better to peel them now instead of doing it tomorrow morning?”
“I’m a little tired right now.”
“Ha… Hyung, please help me maintain some respect for my elders. The other hoobaes never talk back when I ask them to do little chores like this.”
(Translator’s Note: Hoobae — The counterpart to sunbae, referring to someone junior within the same school, workplace, profession, or organisation.)
“…Understood.”
“I’ll be going, then. Take care.”
Park Yooseok left, but just before he disappeared, Jo Minjoon caught what he muttered under his breath.
“Does he think he’s something special just because he’s older? Fucking scary.”
Jo Minjoon could only stare at Park Yooseok’s retreating back. He was furious, but he could not say anything. If he did, word would spread that he was reckless and had no respect for hierarchy.
He had no choice but to swallow his anger.
“Garlic, my arse.”
Even as he muttered the complaint, Jo Minjoon was already taking the garlic out of the refrigerator.
After peeling cloves for a while, he turned on his smartphone and opened his blog. These days, the blog was the only thing that brought him any comfort. He posted about the dishes he made, and reading the comments people left beneath them helped put his mind at ease.
Jo Minjoon tapped the ‘Write Post’ button.
The subject was simple: New Year’s greetings.
The post itself was equally simple and boring.
For around ten minutes, no comments appeared. Jo Minjoon was not exactly a famous blogger. While he was browsing other cooking blogs and taking notes on recipes, a notification suddenly appeared.
The username was familiar.
CookingGuru: @JoChef-nim, Happy New Year~ ^^ Your New Year’s greeting was the first one I received.
(Translator’s Note: -nim —A Korean honorific suffix attached to names, titles, occupations, or usernames to indicate politeness or respect.)
JoChef was Jo Minjoon’s username. Even though it was only one person, some of the gloom weighing on him lifted. He quickly replied.
JoChef: Happy New Year to you too, @CookingGuru-nim. Yours was the first greeting I received as well.
CookingGuru: Hehe. Hmm, there wasn’t any post about dinner. Don’t tell me you didn’t eat?
JoChef: Somehow, it ended up that way. T__T
For a while, the two exchanged casual small talk. After around ten comments, however, the conversation grew more serious.
CookingGuru: Then @JoChef-nim, you’re still in your second year?
JoChef: Yes. I show off my cooking a bit on my blog, but in reality, I’m just peeling garlic at some restaurant. lol…
CookingGuru: Ah… that’s a shame. If you’d changed paths just a little earlier, I’m sure you’d be in a better situation by now.
JoChef: What can I do? It’s my own fault. I didn’t have the courage back then. I realised too late that everyone has their own path.
CookingGuru: If you could go back to when you were younger, would you enter the culinary world straight away?
JoChef: Yes, I would. Now I’m certain that this is the path for me. Of course, things are pretty rough right now, but still…
After that comment, there was no reply for quite some time.
Perhaps CookingGuru had grown tired of such a serious conversation. It was, after all, a rather depressing topic for New Year’s.
Jo Minjoon rested his head on one of the tables outside the kitchen and closed his eyes.
He was sleepy. Exhausted.
He did not want to think about anything.
Around ten minutes after Jo Minjoon fell asleep, the dark screen of his phone suddenly lit up with a new-comment notification.