Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Little Sister Rolls In
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"Ah, I knew it."
The tragic scene unfolding before my eyes.
A cheerful family dinner. A gathering of company colleagues.
They look harmonious, but to us part-timers, they're just potential work.
And I'm a part-timer.
It's not even been an hour since dinner service started, and the place is packed. It's always like this on rainy days.
Customers pour in in droves.
Something about the sizzle of meat grease sounding like the rain, or whatever.
Every table is full.
The floor's damp from the rain.
Waiting room outside has numbers up to 10.
But only 8 tables inside. That's the trap.
Probably full for the next two hours at least.
"Hey, Joo-hyun. Table 3's meat is ready—take it out quick."
"Yeah... on my way."
The Auntieie sets three portions of pork belly on a tray and hands it toward the dining area.
I grab it quick and head to Table 3 with hurried steps.
Low pressure's got my body dragging, but I push through.
If I let the weather beat me now, I'll be wiped out body and soul all shift.
On the way to Table 3.
Anxiety hits before I even set down the meat.
The customers' eyes boring into me like they're spilling over.
They're pissed.
And not just that.
They're not even trying to hide it from me.
"Your pork belly, three portions, as ordered."
"No kidding, how long ago did we order? Why's it taking forever?"
"Ah... We're full up today, and a rush hit all at once, so orders backed up a bit. Sorry about that."
"Ugh, just grill it quick. I'm starving."
Condescending tone plus casual speech—two strikes out already. Still, this is tame.
Customers with drinks get rough in speech and wild in actions sometimes.
Getting mad at every one just wears me out for no reason.
Sizzle—
I play it cool and lay the meat on the hot grill.
The sharp part-time colleague had pulled her hips way back while serving sides earlier—suspicious as hell.
And my gut feelings never lie.
"Hey, part-timer. Come here a sec."
"...Yes?"
"Bro, check this guy out. Pretty face on him—must be nice."
"Yeah, not bad. Should thank his parents."
"Kids these days gotta honor their folks. Mine? Walk in the door, won't even say hi, just nag for cash outta nowhere..."
"..."
I clamp my mouth shut and focus on grilling. They switch topics quick among themselves.
They probably meant it as a compliment, but it doesn't sit right. Not thrilled to hear it from random uncles.
The filial piety lecture sucks too.
Especially when you don't know what's up in someone else's family.
Feels reckless.
"Enjoy your meal."
"Yeah, thanks."
"Man, this place grills meat like nowhere else. That part-timer's got skills?"
Pork belly grilled to a pretty Maillard reaction, golden and glossy with fat blending just right. I push it to the edge of the grill.
And bolt from Table 3 fast.
"Just think of it as mental training."
I mutter to myself.
Part-time life's more about mental toughness than body or skills—that's my philosophy.
Got me through seven years.
From the days I couldn't even buy a beer at the convenience store freely to now.
Arguing with customers like these just tires you out.
If it escalates, it hurts not just me but the Boss too. Best to avoid that.
Today's no different.
"I'll endure."
One word steels my resolve as I head back to the kitchen.
Prepping for the next table.
Auntie hands over more meat with deft moves. I take it to the next table.
From the kitchen depths, I catch the Boss's pleased smile watching me.
A quick nod, then back to the floor.
**
Part-timers limp through closing like wilted veggies.
Boss finishes prepping meat for tomorrow and gets ready to head out.
Kitchen Aunties untie aprons, fold them neat. Rub waists or knees now and then.
Sales say victory, but staff look like defeated soldiers.
Same as always—today was war.
Or a bit more intense than usual.
I poke my head into the kitchen for a goodbye.
"Good work, everyone~."
"Yeah, good work! See you tomorrow."
Strong reply back.
Boss is always like that—full of energy.
Worthy of emulation.
Never seen him down or drained, not once in my time here.
Tomorrow.
Yeah, gotta come back.
Boss is the nicest guy, that's why I've stuck here seven years, but the work's no cakewalk.
Grilling meat splatters oil that stings your hands.
Drunk troublemakers aplenty too.
High hourly wage outweighs it, I guess.
Few part-time gigs pay this well and keep you indoors.
Chose it for the math—started at 18.
Not a bad pick.
No choice, really.
I'm the kid who cut ties with parents early.
Had to earn for every meal.
That's it.
"Joo-hyun Hyung, see you tomorrow~!"
"Yeah, tomorrow. Good work."
I head out first.
Part-time colleague walks me to the door outside for a wave. Maybe feels bad for dodging that trouble table earlier.
Funny thing—my way home's left alone.
Everyone else's right.
No need to sync up—solo commute home.
Simple, suits me.
Sky's cleared like it meant to, full moon haloed overhead.
Lingering damp chill makes moonlight shimmer brighter.
Read in a book once.
Only fair view for all humans is the sky. That's why we glance up absentmindedly on walks.
Kinda wanna bask in what others do, even a little.
If I'd had family to share my heart with, would life be different?
Sentimental mood hits.
Lost in thought, steps home feel extra heavy.
Snap out—right at my alley.
"Huh? What's this, lights on."
Villa lights glow soft in the night alley.
Problem is, mine too.
I live alone.
"Weird. Did I leave without turning it off?"
Nah, more like I never turned it on to leave.
I'm a closet saver—early afternoon shifts, lights stay off.
So that means.
I hurry up.
Second floor—close enough.
Beep, beep, beep, beep.
Unlock the door—warmth wafts out.
"You're late. Good work."
"Grandma, you came? Should've called ahead."
"I did call, didn't I? You never pick up, so I had no choice but to come straight. Weather's turning chilly out there anyway."
March nights do bite.
Rain didn't help.
Check my phone—missed calls logged.
[Beloved Grandma]
[4 Missed Calls]
I drape my coat over a chair, sit by her.
Seeing her face after so long eases the day's grind a bit.
"What brings you here?"
I ask, and spot it.
Something bulky behind her back, hidden from view.
I twist casual to peek.
But.
Swish—
Dodges?
She just shifted away from my gaze.
"Hey! Yoon-seul, come say hi. Can't hide like that."
Grandmother lays down the law stern, and out shuffles a cute little angel of a girl, all hesitant.
Belly bow.
"I'm Jang Yoon-seul."
"Uh, yeah. Hi...."
Awkward reply.
Seeing a kid this young in my place hits different.
Usually spot 'em at the restaurant with parents.
Always soured my mood then.
"Why bring a kid all this way? Your back's not great."
"There's a reason. Got a favor to ask you."
"What favor...?"
"First, let me introduce her proper. Jang Yoon-seul, your mother's daughter."
Sidesteps calling her my half-sibling. Consideration for me.
"So, that woman's new kid?"
Grandmother nods silent.
Cut ties with birth mom, never met.
Skipped her funeral last month too, so first time seeing Yoon-seul.
"Why bring her all the way here?"
"Hate to even bring this up to you... but still.
If you're okay with it, how about living with Yoon-seul?"
"Ah."
Shadows under Grandmother's eyes.
I get the heart behind it—my stomach drops.
My life's crap enough, but Grandmother's only daughter had it rough too.
Married poor to poor. Both poets, no steady income—husband died young.
Didn't end there. Passed her grief straight to her lone daughter.
Starvation, beatings, neglect, fuck.
Grandma saved me from that.
Years pass, she remarries, starts new family—or so I heard. Then car crash wipes 'em both.
No sadness, no pity.
But this little one's separate.
"The kid—she, I mean Yoon-seul—she's okay?"
"I raised her myself. My daughter's mess—how could I stand by after what you went through?
Can't let this one suffer the same."
New husband no good either, huh. Birds of a feather.
Probably kept quiet about the kid to spare my bad feelings.
Her asking if I'd live with Yoon-seul means nowhere else panned out.
Grandmother, you're tapped out too.
Pushing eighty, worn thin chasing her daughter's wake.
Funeral just a month back—no room body or soul for raising another.
Blood sister's mine anyway—no real aversion to living together.
But it's not just us adults' call.
"Yoon-seul, come here a sec?"
She toddles over on tiny feet, bouncy.
Our eyes lock as I sit, she stands. Meet in mid-air.
She's that small still.
"Yes?"
"If Yoon-seul's okay with it, wanna stay here with me awhile? What do you think?"
"Um... no."
Yeah, she says no.