This Car-Poor Bastard Needs an Avante N (2)
“Hey, Ha-rin. I heard Han Dae-jin’s buying an Avante N.”
Yoon Ha-rin was sipping coffee at Cheongto Cafe with her friends, just hearing about Han Dae-jin for the first time.
But she didn’t really care.
“Even if he drives an Avante N, chicks won’t flock to him. Might as well get a Miata, right?”
Ha-rin sucked on her iced coffee through the straw, sounding indifferent.
“You’re not bothered? The guy’s YouTube channel’s blowing up lately.”
One of her friends showed her the video where Han Dae-jin chased 9THSILVER and racked up nearly five million views. Ha-rin didn’t even glance at it before swatting the phone away.
“I don’t give a shit.”
“But he’s straight-up invading your street Yangka vibe YouTube territory.”
Another friend pointed out.
“What the fuck can that loser do? You all done with your coffee?”
Ha-rin stood up first, and the others followed, gathering their things.
Outside, Ha-rin and her friends lit up cigarettes. She quietly inhaled the smoke, mulling over her next video.
“Ah… fuck…”
In her head, she was brainstorming an interview with that Matiz Swimmer that had been making waves lately. It seemed like prime material—some punk taking on Jeonikup rides in a Matiz.
Meanwhile, her friends had already left Cheongto. Ha-rin stayed behind, smoking a few more.
That’s when she spotted Han Dae-jin and the infamous Matiz Swimmer.
She watched them for a bit. Han Dae-jin set up his action cam for some shots of the light car, then started interviewing the owner.
Irritation boiled up inside Ha-rin. This fucking asshole’s stealing my material…
She lurked, watching the interview. Once it wrapped and the owner drove off, Han Dae-jin packed his gear. That’s when Ha-rin approached.
“Well, if it isn’t you, you fucking bitch.”
Han Dae-jin greeted her cheerfully, but she didn’t react.
“That Matiz. I was gonna interview it first.”
“Just ’cause it’s in your head doesn’t make it your boyfriend, sweetheart.”
Ha-rin’s face flushed red and purple, grinding her teeth before slapping him hard across the cheek.
“You fucking crazy bitch.”
“Why do you have to ruin everything I try to do? Can’t you just quit YouTube? You’ve got a way better job than me. Stick to collecting that salary.”
“Fuck off, what do you care what I do? If I quit, what’re you gonna do for me?”
“If you really quit, I’ll fuck you instead of that married slut.”
Han Dae-jin snorted in disbelief.
“Yeah, no kids means you’d be tighter, I guess. But I’m not interested. Big tits or not.”
He slammed the trunk shut after loading his gear.
“Anything else?”
“I work too. But the office only has five people, and it’s all dispatching outsiders or fuckups whose lives are ruined. I’m just trying to survive. You’ve got it easy, even if your side chick’s shady. Why pick on me?”
“Then go join some porn site and sell your shit. If you’ve got the brains to offer it to strangers, you’ve got the brains for porn.”
Ha-rin slapped him again. Tears streamed down her face as she stormed to her car and peeled out of Cheongto noisily.
“What a fucking weirdo psycho bitch.”
Han Dae-jin grumbled, locked his car, and headed back inside.
The next day, Yoon Ha-rin woke in her rundown Incheon apartment to Dori’s barking alarm.
She fed Dori, then showered naked in the bathroom with its striking red interior (straight out of the ’90s…).
Staring in the mirror, she replayed what she’d said to Han Dae-jin yesterday.
Why’d I have to be so pathetic? Was that really all I had going for me?
She finished showering, got dressed, did her makeup, and prepped for work. She skipped breakfast.
Down in the apartment parking lot, she climbed into her silver S38 daily driver instead of the Avante 3 Sport.
She drove to a labor dispatch office in an Incheon industrial complex.
She clocked in at 7:20 a.m. to send out the first workers for the factories starting at 8:00.
Soon, workers arrived at the office. Ha-rin called the factory, loaded a few into her car, and dropped them off.
On the way back, she bought smokes at a convenience store.
Sitting on a stool there, she lit one up and checked her YouTube channel.
50,000 subscribers. Latest video at 10,000 views. Subscribers hadn’t even hit 100k, and views were dropping. That worried her.
Her income relied on BeStar ads and group buys, but with YouTube growth stalling, even those were lagging.
She chain-smoked a few butts right there before dragging herself back to the office.
Lunch was at a Korean buffet popular with factory workers. Ha-rin liked meat, but she worried the buffet’s meat sides would make her gain weight if she overdid it.
But no choice—money was tight, so she’d eat the boss’s treat.
After work, back home, she changed and flopped on the bed to watch Han Dae-jin’s quick-upload Matiz Swimmer video.
The light car Swimmer tearing up the Yeongdong and Gyeongbu Expressways, even clowning around at Ma-seong—it already had 100k views.
Ha-rin screamed and chucked her phone.
Regaining her senses, she picked it up, tossed it on the bed, stripped naked, and stood before the mirror.
Her body: decent-sized tits, but short stature, unkempt bush, waist almost blocky.
“What kind of porn could I sell with this body…”
She sighed, dressed again, and lay back down.
Honestly, tits were an asset, but the waist? Was it the gut? Maybe she should work out.
Thoughts swirled. Then she stripped off pants and panties, headed to the bathroom.
She grabbed the women’s shave cream from a BeStargram promo sample, wet her bush, slathered it on, and started shaving with a lady razor.
Once clean, she rinsed with the showerhead, patted dry, stripped fully, and posed in the mirror again.
“Better…”
Ha-rin pondered, until Dori barked chasing after her.
She snapped out of it, dressed, and fed him.
At the same time, Han Dae-jin was having dinner alone with the HR department head, chatting about work life and his car upgrade plans.
“But Dae-jin, you’ve got talents, yet you don’t use them right—developing them properly, I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like… if you made videos the company needs, with techniques tailored for that… but you don’t.”
“Hmm…”
“No ‘hmm.’ You write well enough to ghostwrite for the CEO, but your paperwork’s so sloppy.”
Han Dae-jin scratched his head.
“And now switching cars? An Avante N? That screams you won’t focus on work—you’ll be tearing around like a maniac.”
He flinched awkwardly, cutting his steak.
The HR head smirked and sipped her grape juice.
After dinner, before seeing her off, he watched her smoke.
Did she smoke? Never seen her at the company smoker. Same department as Kim Ji-ho?
“Anyway, you need work-life balance. Work and personal life all mixed up—it’s a mess.”
He turned to her.
“Ah, yeah, got it.”
“I’m not saying dump Ji-ho. But there are plenty of good people out there besides her. For her to stick around 20 years, she needs family stability. If you two remarry, it’ll be chaos. I’m saying this as your team’s number two.”
She said goodbye and left first.
Han Dae-jin drove out of the restaurant, sighing.