Out of the Room

She dragged her throbbing body out of the room and into the brightly lit store.

The moment she dropped into the chair behind the register, the pain came flooding in.

…Did I do something wrong?

When a young man and woman met, they were bound to bicker sometimes. That was all it was.

The part-timer girl who had chased after Do-yoon grumbled under her breath.

It hadn't even been a guy — someone who might have become her sister-in-law had snapped at her out of nowhere, so she hadn't even managed a proper excuse.

More shocking than that, though:

He had a girlfriend?

Then why does he only ever come during my shifts, and why does he keep shooting me those lonely, yearning looks?

Anger roughened her breathing, but when she turned it over in her head the answer came clear enough.

If he came again, she could calmly talk things through then.

The part-timer let the hours drift by, painting the next meeting with him in her mind.

I should've at least found out where he lives.

Some time later, still waiting out the rest of her shift inside her daydreams—

—Ding-a-ling.

The doorbell rang and scattered her thoughts.

She looked at the person pushing through the convenience-store door.

A beauty of moderately tall height, with a soft yet classically elegant air. Her coat hem swayed lightly with each step; when she swept her long black hair back, the clean lines of her face were so sharp she didn't look like an ordinary person at all.

The woman's gaze went not to the shelves but straight to the register.

—Click. Click.

The sound of flat heels tapping the store floor drew closer with every step until she stopped in front of the counter.

"Hello?"

A gentle voice.

"…Ah, hello? Is there something you need?"

She returned the greeting half in a daze.

The woman murmured quietly toward her.

"…Ah. Right. That voice."

"…?"

The woman's eyes slid over the dirt-stained uniform.

"The dirt on the side, too."

The corner of her mouth curved up faintly, but her eyes were not smiling at all.

"So it was you. The one who harassed our Do-yoon."

"…What? Wh-who…? Y-you're not his girlfriend, are you?"

The woman didn't answer.

She simply kept that thinly curled corner of her mouth in place ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and quietly stared at the part-timer's face. The chill settled over that carefully made-up beauty stood out even more under the convenience-store fluorescents.

"You're not even prettier than me. And your figure…… hmm. Small."

"…!"

"Where do you get the confidence?"

"……"

It was the first time in her life she had heard a comparison that raw. But the woman in front of her was so objectively superior that the words stuck in her throat.

…E-even so!

Love wasn't all about looks, was it?

The part-timer bit her lip, parted it again, and opened and closed her mouth with a trembling voice.

"…I-I can treat him better. Give him to me— y-yield— euk!"

Before she finished speaking, a face came right up close—whoosh. A subtle, fresh scent of green leaves tickled her nose, and by her ear came a voice so small it was almost a breath, yet crystal clear.

"Try wagging that tongue so carelessly in front of me one more time. I'll tear it right out. Because of you, the kid's been having a hard time. I'm holding back a lot right now, you know?"

"E-eek—!"

Clatter-crash—

As the chair slid backward, the part-timer's body tumbled to the floor. Her rear hit the store tiles and her back smacked into a display shelf, but the woman remained standing exactly where she was.

The smile that had been at the corner of her mouth was gone. With her expression dry and composed, she simply looked down at the part-timer for several long seconds — steadily, as if to make plain that she was not joking. Coldly.

—Click.

Then she turned on her heel. Her coat hem swayed lightly. The footsteps heading for the door sounded even lighter than when she had come in.

—Ding-a-ling.

Even after the doorbell rang once more and the woman had left the store, the part-timer, still plopped on her rear and thoroughly overwhelmed, could not get up right away.

She braced a hand against the wall, barely hauled herself upright, and crawled back behind the counter — and her eyes moved unconsciously past the glass.

Wondering if she was gone.

"Huk!"

The woman outside had turned her head toward the convenience store, and their eyes met dead-on.

She didn't open her mouth. She simply raised one finger slowly and pointed straight at the part-timer.

Then she vanished back into the dark.

"Hnnngh—"

A thin scream leaked from the part-timer's lips.

…S-scary.

What the hell is with that bitch.

Unlike the violent girl from earlier, there had been no real physical harm — and still the trembling would not stop.

She startled at every thought until closing time, then fled the convenience store like she was escaping. And the next afternoon, she received a phone call from the convenience-store owner, who was furious about what on earth she had done.

She lost the job on the spot……

But when she thought she would never have to meet those ice-cold eyes again, a faint, strange sense of relief spread through her.

I thought that once ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I shared my worries I would greet a fresh morning, but hell no — nothing of the sort.

For one thing, sleep wouldn't come easily, and time had no intention of waiting until I was mentally prepared.

Early morning, before my parents left for work, I opened my mouth in the living room.

"…Um. Actually, there's something I need to tell you."

Just the fact that I had come out of my room and summoned them like this already had Mom and Dad looking extremely uneasy. With my attitude unstable on top of that, I probably didn't look like a particularly trustworthy son.

Ah, whatever. Just list the facts.

"…I've been working as a composer."

That under the name Yeong-il I had written various songs, that I was affiliated with a company, and that I wanted to keep writing songs going forward. In summary, that was the kind of story I spat out.

I waited tensely for their reaction — and an unexpected answer came back.

"We didn't know it in this much detail, but Muse Family, was it? We knew you were working there."

"What? How?"

"Well, our Seoyun told us, of course. 'Don't worry about Oppa.'"

"Mom! I never said the last part!!"

"Hahaha."

I told her to keep it secret from our parents, and this brat—

"Why~? Whenever Oppa went out somewhere, you'd go trailing after him, right? You said you were worried. You've already even been to where that company is, haven't you?"

"Uwaaaa it's not like that! I just happened to stop by out of curiosity on the way out! Co!in!ci!den!tal!ly! What do you even know, Mom! Don't make stuff up!"

Looking at my energetic little sister first thing in the morning, I realized.

Ah. So that's why my sister was outside yesterday.

Whether it was my pride-wounded, fuming little sister, or my parents who had known about my movements and still pretended not to — the fact that I had been silently protected made me embarrassed, yet also gave me more courage.

I hoped I could keep moving forward without causing them any more worry either.

I calmly told them about what had happened ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠yesterday, and that with the company's help I wanted to stay outside for a while.

Father and Mother looked surprised yet worried, and Seoyun immediately pushed back.

"Outside? The company? Isn't it better to just stay home? I don't trust this…"

"Yeah, do you really have to go?"

I'd expected the opposition. Even I was still half in doubt, so of course the family would come out more conservatively.

"My manager said to contact her if there was opposition at home."

Han So-yeong had also said that if I was a twenty-one-year-old young man, my parents wouldn't like sending their child away. So at that time, I should definitely call her over.

My family seemed curious what kind of person my coworker was too, so we decided to call right away.

"Hello? Ah, yes, So-yeong. Would you like to talk with my father and mother? What? You're downstairs?"

She was already in the apartment parking lot.

My parents, moved by that sincerity, readily agreed and told her to come right up, and—

—Ding-dong—!

About two minutes later the doorbell rang.

When Seoyun ran over and opened the door, there stood Han So-yeong in a black suit with sunglasses on, and the still-scary-looking security uncle.

"Th-these people are…?"

No, why did they come dressed so fully for business. Standing side by side like that, they looked like a yakuza lady boss and her secretary.

Even standing still, Han So-yeong gave off an imposing air; with a perfectly tailored suit on top of it, her presence was intense.

Sure enough, my sister's expression turned complicated. She looked at me, then at Han So-yeong, then at me again. I could clearly see her pupils shaking.

"…Oppa, you do work at a proper place, right?"

Before I could even make an excuse, Han So-yeong removed her sunglasses and bowed politely.

"Hello. I'm Han So-yeong, operations manager at Muse Family. I handle the overall operations of the company."

After handing over a business card, she demurely sat on one side of the sofa at Father's gesture, and slowly added introductions and explanations.

What kind of agency Muse Family was. What kind of influence Composer Yeong-il held within it. How impressive the chart results and award-show outcomes had been. What weight and meaning a composer named Do-yoon carried at the company level.

Heat kept rising in my ears as I listened.

Hearing it put like this is embarrassing.

There was some padding in there, no doubt, but seeing my parents looking dazed, I also felt inwardly proud.

Except for Seoyun, the atmosphere seemed to be turning warm and friendly.

"A composer that precious gets harassed at a neighborhood convenience store?"

"Seoyun."

Mother tried to stop her from the side, but my sister kept muttering in a dissatisfied tone.

Han So-yeong didn't make excuses.

"I'm sorry. It's true that our management was insufficient. We deeply regret it as well and consider it a wrong with no room for excuses. We should have grasped the artist's hardships and concerns in advance and worked harder so that he wouldn't be put in danger."

"It's not that much…."

Whoa, what is this. My conscience is stinging. Is this a new form of torture.

With every single one of Han So-yeong's words, I felt a pang of guilt. I was the one who had rejected all support just to do things my own way.

"So! That's why I came today. As a preventive measure, I wanted to personally explain our future care plans."

Han So-yeong straightened her posture and began explaining in earnest.

Since Muse Family's profits had greatly increased after Composer Yeong-il joined, they were only now getting their systems in place as they scrambled to hire staff late. Construction on the employee cafeteria on one side of the building was in its final stages, so nutritional management would be possible, and as with the security staff accompanying her, they had professional protection personnel as well. Also, if Do-yoon wanted, they could assign a professional counselor — he just had to say the word anytime.

"…Given that an unfortunate incident occurred, we judged that for the time being at least, staying inside the company building would be safest. We'll prepare everything so there's no inconvenience."

"……"

"If you want to come back home, you can do so anytime. We're not forcing anything."

Under Han So-yeong's offensive, Mother nodded, and Father's expression softened more than at first.

In the good atmosphere, Han So-yeong suddenly stood up.

"If you would just trust me once and entrust your son to me!"

"…Huh?"

"Whaaat?!"

Everyone's gazes focused on Han So-yeong at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once.

…Ah, yes?

"Ah! That's not what I meant. I meant I'll care for him that diligently. I got a bit too into it for a moment. Ahem!"

She hurriedly waved her hands and sat back down.

With Han So-yeong's serious persuasion, my parents seemed to have set their minds somewhat at ease — as if they would try trusting their son who was gradually overcoming a long trauma.

In the warm atmosphere, only my sister still hadn't relaxed her triangular eyes. Whether it was the slip of the tongue from earlier that was the problem, her gaze had grown even sharper.

To that sister, Father first threw an unexpected card.

"Seoyun, you go to Oppa's company with him today."

"…Huh? Me?"

"Go with him and look around. If you're suspicious, seeing it yourself is fastest. If it's my daughter, Dad can trust her too."

My parents had to leave for work soon, so they couldn't go right away.

"Yeah, Mom will feel better once Seoyun's seen it too. Go check it out carefully for us, little sister. Take good care of Oppa?"

"Hmm, maybe I will. Okay then."

"……"

Something about the roles feels completely reversed.

Telling the little sister to take good care of her older brother.

Anyway.

Permission had been granted.

I went back to my room and checked the luggage I'd roughly packed yesterday — the identical clothes I'd bought in bulk online, and my precious guitar and work laptop.

With the security uncle's help I moved the luggage easily, and I brought along my little sister, who was sparkling her eyes at the black van the size of someone declaring I am a celebrity—, and we boarded.

Familiar roads continued outside the car window, and before long we arrived at the Muse Family Studio.