Welcome to the District Office
“Good morning.”
“Come on in, Secretary Park.”
“How was your holiday weekend, everyone?”
I set my bag on my desk and took my seat at the table. As soon as I sat down, the Office Manager led the way, and the on-duty staff gathered one by one around the table, settling into their chairs and looking my way. While the Office Manager effectively ran the district party office, with my position as congressional secretary, I was the senior staffer here in this regional committee office. Moments later, Kim Yeosa, who volunteered full-time at the office, brought over coffee and placed a cup in front of each of us before returning to her seat.
“Yeosa, come join us here.”
“I'm not even on duty.”
“We're all family. No need to stand on ceremony—this isn't a formal meeting.”
“You've been running this district office so well up to now. I hope I haven't come down here like some unwanted guest.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Anyway, just keep doing what you've been doing. You and the on-duty folks know the local scene way better than I do, so me butting in would just get in your way. Unless it's something major, just run things by the Office Manager like always and handle it.”
“Glad you're here with us. How long you planning to stay?”
“No orders to head back up to Seoul, so I'm thinking I'll stick around Busan. Seoul doesn't suit me anyway, and my work isn't something that has to be done there.”
“If anything's off, just say the word anytime.”
“Got it. I'm counting on you, hyung.”
“Secretary Park, this is an official setting.”
“Ah, right. Sorry. Got scolded the minute I got here. Forgive me, everyone—I've got a long history with the boss here, so I slipped up.”
After the quick greetings, we dove into a rundown of the district situation, and before I knew it, time had flown by. As lunchtime approached, a package from Seoul arrived, so I set up my computer on my desk and got ready to dive into work. Once it was all configured, I headed out with the office crew to the pork rib joint next door for lunch. Had to do the proper welcome ritual, after all.
“Eat up, everyone. This might be your only shot at a free meal from me.”
“That's it? Don't we need a proper welcome dinner tonight?”
The Youth Committee Chair's words drew a chorus of agreement—“Hear, hear!”—and the evening drinks were locked in. Looked like I'd have to cancel on Ara. The on-duty staff turned the pork ribs into anju, passing around soju shots while tossing occasional questions about life in Seoul and prying for stories about the boss, gradually satisfying their curiosity about me. Truth be told, aside from the Office Manager, I barely knew the rest beyond glimpses from election time, so this was a good chance for us all to get acquainted.
I wrapped up the chat with Ara and headed back to the office, settling in to surf the web. I skimmed the politics pages first, then society and economy sections, but nothing jumped out as needing urgent attention. For folks in our line of work, no alarming headlines meant ordinary people could breathe easy—a good sign for the nation and its leaders.
After scanning the news, I checked my SNS accounts, replying personally to direct messages and commenting on posts needing clarification, easing back into my core duties. With the general election half a year out, it was time to ramp up preparations, plus lay groundwork for the party leadership race that'd follow amid accountability debates. Top priority: Propping up the boss as party rep. Couldn't slack on that. Sure, there was my hyung handling chief of staff duties and Secretary Seo, but hyung had zero interest in running, and while Seo outranked me, he had no local ties and was still an outsider. If the boss stepped back from the district, handing it to me wouldn't be tough. Assuming Eun-mi backs me hard from the shadows.
That alone meant I'd need to win over the on-duty staff here for the foreseeable future, plus build trust with precinct leaders and sub-precinct heads through actions, not just words. Beyond my online secretary role, I'd have to get active offline too—face time with voters, checking the district pulse up close.
“Alright, time to head out.”
Time had slipped away. The Youth Committee Chair approached me. I tidied my desk, stood, and asked the crew where to.
“First round: simple samgyeopsal for dinner and drinks. Second: karaoke?”
“We're hosting a congressional secretary—karaoke feels off. Nightclub?”
The Youth Committee Chair suggested karaoke for round two; the Office Manager upped it to a nightclub. The Women's Committee Chair raised both hands in approval, and volunteer Kim Yeosa clapped along. Damn that meddlesome Office Manager—now I was in for a long night. We grabbed dinner at the samgyeopsal spot next door, then split between my car and the Youth Committee Chair's (our designated driver) to Yeonsan-dong.
Even on a weekday evening, the club buzzed with customers. We grabbed a table per the waiter's lead, poured beers, toasted, and hit the stage as the music pumped. After shaking it out till sweat poured, we returned to find an unexpected face sharing a beer with the Office Manager.
“Whoa, President Kim! Long time.”
“Heard you were back in town, Secretary Park.”
“Did hyung call you over?”
“I told President Kim to come foot the bill. Otherwise, you'd blow your whole month's salary and end up broke.”
“Aigoo, hyung, always worrying. You think I can't handle it?”
“Forget it. I mentioned your welcome bash, and he said he wanted to see your face.”
“Anyway, how've you been? Sorry I headed up last time without a proper goodbye.”
“Busy guy like you? I get it. Stuck following the boss's schedule.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“Sticking around Busan for good now?”
“Yeah, cleared it with the boss.”
“Swing by my office when you got time.”
“Will do.”
President Kim ran a construction firm and was someone I owed big time. Politics always pinches the wallet, but election season hits like a bloodbath—every ' measly won' counts, and you can't exactly invoice it. Without sponsors, aides like us end up tangled in scandals to cover costs. Guys like President Kim were lifesavers.
Fast beats faded into blue time, and the crew swarmed back. They all knew President Kim well, so greetings flew and glasses clinked.
Music shifted; some staff hit the stage, others nursed drinks. The club was a fresh vibe for my new start—speakers thumping my chest alive.
“Secretary Park, get up!”
Kim Yeosa grabbed my hand, pulling me out.
“Yeosa, hold on. I already went once—take the president and boss first.”
“They'll follow. You're the star tonight—can't sit this out.”
Right on cue, the Women's and Youth Committee Chairs dragged the Office Manager and President Kim to the stage. Kim Yeosa hauled me up too. No face to save now. Sober as I was, I went wild—shaking, belting lyrics, lost in the vibe.
It blew off steam perfectly. After thrashing onstage, we chugged cold beers back at the table, repeated a few rounds, then spilled out late. Despite my protests, President Kim insisted on paying.
Cooling off with a smoke outside, President Kim sidled up.
“Before the others come out—pocket this.”
“What's this?”
“Petty cash for now. No arguments—stash it. They'll think it's weird.”
He stuffed an envelope in my pants pocket and headed to his car. I slipped it into my suit's inner pocket and followed. The group emerged; we piled into cars and dispersed home. After dropping my passengers, I peeked inside: a hefty sum, no small change.
“President Kim, this is too much.”
“Everyone get home safe?”
“Yeah, thanks to you. But seriously, it's a lot.”
“You'll burn through it quick. You came down here for a reason—use it easy. Need more, just holler.”
“Got it. Thanks—I'll put it to good use. Sleep well.”
“Become a great politician—that's all I ask.”
“Will do. I'll make it happen.”
Always felt it, but he was a solid guy. Not just for me—funneled aid through the Office Manager without a peep. Adding his envelope to the cash from Eun-mi and her friend Mi-hyang meant no money worries for a while. Blessed.
And so another night slipped away.