A Vanity Table...? (1)
Ms. Chatterbox had been mid-sip of water when people came running over, and now she stood there flinching like a bird about to bolt. The look on her face—the unmistakable expression of someone about to be scolded—was a masterpiece.
'Yeji, you're so petty. I should be allowed to ride the elevator... no, wait. Is there some security reason I'm only supposed to take it when heading to the CEO's office?'
"No, it's fine. She might just not have known. Don't be too hard on her."
— First floor. —
Perhaps taking pity on Ms. Chatterbox, the elevator dispatched a rescue vessel. With her escape route secured, it was only right to set her free—better to flee before the demon's henchwoman caught her and put her through the wringer.
"Hurry along, then. Before Yeji scolds you even more."
"Ah, thank you!! I'll be off, then!"
With a brisk bow, she truly did bolt, pattering away at a run, and watching her go wrung a laugh out of me before I knew it.
"Ha-hah. Goodness... to think people that bright still exist."
"You're not exactly gloomy yourself, Unni?"
"Well... it's just astonishing that anyone can stay that sunny while working at a company."
Freelance work had been my livelihood, sure, but I had held an office job once. Only, the atmosphere back then hadn't been merely dreary—everyone in that office carried a personal raincloud overhead.
"She's only been here three months. She makes mistakes often, too."
"Hmm..."
Three months meant she'd only just cleared her probation, so the occasional slip on the job was only to be expected...
'...Maybe the real problem is simply that she's careless.'
However charitably I looked at it, three months should have been long enough for the work to sink in. But an employee who kept repeating the same mistakes even after being warned—getting chewed out by her superiors every time—was likely making far worse blunders wherever no one was watching.
Placed in some other department, she'd probably be the coworker who brightened the whole office; placed in yours, she'd be an accident-prone troublemaker who manufactured work for everyone.
Stepping off the elevator, I gave a brief nod to the front desk staff whose eyes happened to meet mine, passed them by, and headed out through the main doors.
"Still, these are comfortable, I'll give them that... heels and all, and they're genuinely comfortable..."
"That's because your ankles are already stretched flat from the high heels. Keep wearing heels long enough, and one day you'll look down to find your ankles have all but frozen that way."
'So the reason these felt comfier than men's dress shoes was that my feet were already wrecked?'
If I ever caught sight of my ankles permanently flattened like that, it might honestly be a little unsettling.
—Beep.
Reaching the car, I opened the door, started the engine, and pressed the pedal as I had before—shoes were a clear improvement over bare feet. Barefoot, the soles of my feet had ached horribly; the anti-slip grooves carved into the pedal might as well have been acupressure slippers. Pure torment then, pure comfort now.
Sinking into that comfort, I pulled away at a leisurely pace, and Yeji looked over at me.
"Oh, right. Unni, so what are you going to buy?"
'I told her I'd explain later, then got completely sidetracked by that walking disaster Ms. Chatterbox.'
"Furniture-wise: a desk and chair for my work. A dining table so Lee Suho and I can eat together. And my wardrobe... ah, right, Suho said there's already a wardrobe, so I can just use that... I think that's everything?"
The plan was to buy the essentials first and pick up the rest later, as the need arose. No sense purchasing things in advance that I didn't strictly need.
"What about a dresser and a vanity table?"
"I suppose I do need those. Hm?"
'Do I actually need a vanity table?'
I didn't know the first thing about applying makeup, and I had no intention of wearing it unless I absolutely had to. All I'd been asked for was photos of myself dressed and made up when going out—so naturally, someone planning to hole up at home writing and doing housework had to wonder.
"Why would I need a vanity table?"
"You said you'd be streaming too, didn't you? Then you'll need at least some makeup. No matter how cute that face of yours is, you can't go on camera barefaced."
"Ugh, too much hassle... You said I only need to put on makeup and take pictures when I go out."
"If a situation ever comes up where strangers might see your face, I'll simply classify all of those as outings."
How many times was she going to rewrite the terms? Pure sophistry.
"That's not a thing!!"
"That's exactly how it works. The light's changed, Unni—aren't you going to go?"
The traffic light had only been dutifully doing its job, yet I loathed it. Had there ever been a single moment in my life behind the wheel when a green light felt unwelcome?
"Haah... Fine, fine, I got it! If I'm doing this anyway, I'll do it properly."
"Yes. I'll be looking forward to it."
The contract would take time to run its course either way. And even knowledge destined to become useless later had never once done me wrong—neither the process of gaining it nor the results.
Whenever a new programming language came out, learning it in advance—even one I never ended up using—had turned into an opportunity to land more freelance work. I'd also held onto knowledge I didn't strictly need, only to put it to use later while writing a novel.
Knowledge isn't something you pile up when you need it; you stockpile it ahead of time and draw it out when the moment comes.
'And wouldn't the things I picked up from chatting with women—from a woman's own point of view—come in handy for writing emotional scenes, too?'
Besides, I had no way of knowing how much I would end up writing. At the very least, if I wanted to keep delivering completed works that would satisfy me—and Lee Suho—I needed to keep generating material starting now.
Twenty-nine was hardly a small number, so I had to be ready to clear them as quickly as possible. There was no time to lie around.
Back at my old place, of everything I'd owned—setting aside the fixtures and my laptop—the single most expensive items had been my chair and desk.
I sat all day, so I'd bought a Motion Desk to let me work standing up for stretches; and I sat all day, so naturally I couldn't skimp on a chair that held my posture and spared my body.
According to Suho, some pieces might be in poor condition after years of use, and the shipping would call for a cargo van rather than ordinary parcels—so the arrangement had been made to simply take the secondhand price and have only my things that could reasonably travel by courier sent over.
At the old place, I'd receive by parcel whatever could be shipped, while everything too bulky to deliver would stay behind in that house as fixtures, and I'd be paid out roughly its secondhand value.
Since I'd decided to buy what I needed new here anyway, it amounted to free money for me—and from the landlord's perspective, suddenly losing a tenant stung less when the room came with more fixtures to help lure the next one. Everyone won.
"The products in this section are our premium line."
Escorted with the practiced charm befitting a premium-section employee, we arrived at... a whole new world.
The price tags made me flinch—was anyone truly meant to pay this much?—but Yeji leaned in to murmur that I could shop without a care, so I resolved to stop looking at prices altogether.
"Could I see the Motion Desks first?"
"Of course. I'll show you the way—please follow me."
The model I'd been using, purchased years ago now, was nowhere in sight.
'Well... that was a budget model, so maybe it just doesn't appear in the premium line.'
"Samonim, you use a Motion Desk?"
Hearing Samonim again after so long made me flinch, but I answered, and that seemed to satisfy Yeji's curiosity.
"Yeah. Sitting all day makes my back ache and my legs go stiff. I like working standing up sometimes."
"Ah."
"This line here is our Motion Desks."
"Thank you. I'll browse a little."
"Of course. Please take your time. If there's anything else you need, just ring for us."
Handing over a call bell shaped like a TV remote, the employee drifted off elsewhere.
"They hand out these...?"
"Probably because hardly anyone ever comes to this section."
That tracked.
"It feels strange. I've never been waited on like this."
"You'd better get used to it, no?"
"Hm? Ah—this one's nice. The features and... mm, it has wheels, too."
I'd been about to ask why, exactly, I needed to get used to it, but then I found a desk that hit every note.
"This one... let me jot down the model number..."
"Unni, if you're not going to look at anything else, wouldn't it be better to just order this one and ask to be shown the chairs?"
"Fair point."
—Chirrr~ chirp-chirp-chirp.
When I pressed the call bell the employee had left with us, what rang out from far across the floor wasn't the ding-dong I'd expected, but birdsong.
'I suppose a ding-dong would clash with the mood in here, but bird calls are a bit much.'
True, in a store piping in faux-refined classical music, a sudden ding-dong would have felt jarring.
The birdsong was odd in its own right, but at least it seemed to blend with the classical.
An employee came toward us at a brisk clip, greeting us with a smile.
'That must be exhausting.'
"Yes, how may I help you?"
"I'd like to order this one, and could you show me to the chairs as well? Oh—I'll pay for everything together."
"Of course. One moment, please."
She pulled out a tablet, tapped a few times, then looked up at me and smiled again.
"All done. I'll show you to the chair section. Right this way."
After that, the employee walked us through the chair section, then the dining tables. To spare us a trek back from the far end of the floor, I kept asking for her recommendations—trying out chairs, sitting in them alongside Yeji to compare—until I had a general feel for it all, and then decided to buy the dresser Yeji had recommended as well.
At last we reached the final section—the vanity corner I'd never planned to shop in—and the furniture, subdued in tone until now, changed completely.
"I'll just browse the vanity section a little and let you know."
"Of course. Please use the call bell we provided earlier. Take your time."
Once the employee had drawn back a little, I murmured to Yeji, low enough not to carry:
"Isn't this place a little too colorful?"
"That's what makes it so wonderful, no?"
'No...'