Playing Hooky
I got the rejection email for the interview I'd gone to last week.
It would be a lie to say I hadn't been hoping for anything. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have opened my laptop the second I sat down at the café this morning and gone straight to my inbox.
"My first final interview… and of course I didn't make it."
For about the first two months, I'd been rejected at the document stage almost every single time. I simply hadn't known how to write the kind of application a company actually wanted. Once the third month rolled around, I started getting through here and there—but with zero interview experience, I washed out at the first round for most of those too.
Two rejections that way. This had been my third interview, and things had gone so smoothly that I'd advanced from the first round all the way to the final. Honestly, I'd been nervous. Still, I'd prepared as hard as I could, and I didn't think I'd made any major mistakes once I got there.
"You say you highly regard my capabilities, so why are you rejecting me?"
Every time I got one of these absurd rejection emails, a hollow laugh slipped out of me. Back when I'd listened to older seniors talk about this, they'd all said the same thing: early on, getting rejected is normal, so don't let it crush you. Building up experience by failing a lot is important too, or something like that.
So I'd told myself I wasn't expecting much. I'd told myself I never thought I'd get in on only my third try.
…Guess that wasn't really true.
The hit was bigger than I'd expected. It felt like the moment you realize a test you thought you'd aced had actually gone to hell. Like getting assigned a temporary number at a university where you were sure you'd been accepted, only to find out you weren't even on the waitlist. People get gloomy after enough failures—that much was natural. And when you'd already failed a few times, only to get that this time it might actually work feeling and then fall short anyway, the drop was even steeper.
"I need to do something, though…"
I knew that. I needed to wipe the failed interview clean from my mind, start sending out new applications, scout new companies, and get on with everything else I was supposed to do today. But the reality of how I felt was that I didn't want to do a single thing. Negative thoughts even started creeping in—what's the point of keeping at this if I'm just going to get rejected every time?
I couldn't let myself go there. I really couldn't. But no matter how hard I tried to pull myself together, emotional gloom didn't just clear up in an instant. I stared blankly out the window and let the time slip by. Before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I only snapped out of it when I realized Seorin was already standing next to me.
"Ijun."
"…"
"Ijun?"
"Ah—yeah."
"We're going to eat, right?"
"Yeah. We should."
I didn't particularly feel like eating anything. Even so, humans were animals at the end of the day, and hunger was one thing I couldn't ignore—my stomach let out a loud growl.
…Fine. Wasting the morning was unavoidable. I'll eat, come back, get my head on straight, and actually try.
Thinking that, I stood up with Seorin. Maybe stepping outside the café and walking through the cold air would take the edge off this miserable mood.
"Ijun."
"…"
"Ijun~"
"Huh? Yeah, yeah. What is it?"
I jumped at Seorin's gentle voice and answered. I'd been picking at my food without really eating, so I was worried my gloom might have shown through. I didn't necessarily need to hide it, but I didn't want to make a big deal of it either. Part of it was just being a guy who didn't want to look pathetic in front of the girl he liked. If she heard I'd failed an interview, all I'd get back was either comfort or a pitying look.
"Something happened today, didn't it."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"How would I know? But something really hard for you. Stressful. Or something that's been eating at you."
Was I just that bad at hiding it? Or was Seorin just that sharp? The second I thought I wanted to keep it under wraps, she already seemed to know exactly how I felt.
"No? It's not like that—"
"Don't lie."
"Why do you think I'm lying?"
"Do you realize you're eating rice with your chopsticks right now? You don't normally do that. And you've gone for the kimchi three times already. Even though you ordered the spicy pork right next to it."
Had I? At her words, I looked down at the kimchi pinched between my chopsticks. The steaming plate of spicy stir-fried pork sat completely untouched. The only marks left on my white rice were red streaks of kimchi seasoning. Given that I hadn't even registered whether food was going into my mouth, it made sense.
"And earlier at the café, you weren't studying properly either—you just kept staring out the window."
"Ugh."
"Think that's all? You've been completely checked out of our conversation this whole time. I call you and you don't even answer."
That was probably the easiest thing for her to notice. My reactions were nothing like usual. Sitting across from someone, giving half-answers while zoning out over and over. If I'd been alone, maybe. But I knew full well that was rude to the person who'd come to eat with me.
"…I'm sorry."
Whatever the reason, wrong was wrong. I apologized to her properly. Only then did Seorin's expression soften as she asked,
"I didn't say all that because I wanted an apology. But you know it doesn't make any sense to be this obvious about it and then tell me not to worry, right?"
"…You're right."
"If it's something you really want to keep to yourself, I can pretend I don't notice and let it go."
"…"
"But honestly, I'd rather you told me. When things get hard for me, I want to be able to tell you. But if you keep hiding stuff like this, then I can't either."
She phrased it that way, but I was sure it wasn't just for some selfish reason. The Seorin I knew was the type who thought of other people before herself. This was just her way of making it easier for me to open up.
"And besides that… when a guy I care about is struggling, I can't help but worry. I just want to know what's going on."
She said it with a faint flush rising to her cheeks.
…Straight to the gut.
Did she even realize how embarrassing that line was? Hearing it made me even more flustered, and a cough slipped out of me. Then a small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Thank you, Seorin."
"Huh? For what?"
"Because of you, I smiled for the first time today. I've been down all day."
What was the point of hiding anything from a girl like this? It wasn't even some grand secret. Just the kind of failure every job seeker went through. An utterly ordinary failure. Rather than putting on some cool front over something so trivial, I decided I'd rather just be honest—and maybe a little more likable for it. So I told her.
"Do you remember I mentioned I had an interview last week?"
"Ah, the day you came late for lunch?"
"Yeah. I said I'd gone to the interview that morning."
"Right, you did."
"Well, I got an email this morning saying I didn't get it. So I guess I've been a little depressed. Couldn't focus."
"…Ah. I see. That makes sense. Of course it would."
"I heard from seniors before that people fail dozens of interviews all the time, so I shouldn't take it too hard."
"…"
"But even when you try not to care, I guess as long as you're human, you can't help it. Especially this interview—I had pretty high hopes for it."
"Why? Was it a company you really wanted to get into?"
"No, not exactly. It's just that until now I'd mostly been rejected at the document stage or the first round. This one actually took me all the way to the final."
"Ahh~ so you thought you might actually get it."
"I didn't make any big mistakes, and I felt like I'd prepared well. Getting rejected after that just left me with this bigger sense of loss."
"Yeah. When something that felt like a sure thing falls through, that's the most disappointing. Really tears into your mental state, too."
"Right? And I know I'll have way more interviews ahead of me, and that I should just forget this one fast and start preparing for the next. But I just can't seem to get my head on straight."
Seorin made a thoughtful sound and nodded along, clearly relating. She sat with it for a moment, then set her spoon down on the table with a soft clack and looked at me.
"On days like that, nothing sticks. The more you try to force yourself to do something, the more you just end up feeling worthless."
Had she been through something similar? She was reading my state almost too accurately. I looked at her, a little amazed, and she smiled at my face before saying,
"I know a good solution, if you want to hear it."
"Really? What is it?"
If it could blast away this awful mood and help me focus again, that was a proposal I had zero reason to turn down. I leaned in, interested. Seeing that, Seorin giggled like a little troublemaker.
"There's an old saying, right? When you're stuck, take a detour."
"Yeah, I guess so? But is there somewhere for me to detour to right now?"
All I had was a rejection email and a pile of job-hunting I still needed to do. Where exactly was I supposed to go back to?
"And there's another saying."
"What?"
"When you're depressed, go play."
"Who said that?"
"Lee Seorin."
Watching my dumbfounded expression, Seorin snickered, then leaned in and whispered like a little devil,
"Want to play hooky with me today?"