Chapter 39
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Your Life
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“Hic?!”
I had a bizarre and frightening dream. My whole body was drenched in sweat, and for some reason, tears were trickling out. It felt like being trapped in a narrow space, wriggling like a bug.
“……Ah?”
She sat there dazed, wiping the streaming tears with the back of her hand, then glanced at the clock and bolted upright.
“I’m late! Part-time shift!”
Whether it was because she’d tossed and turned late into the night or because of the nightmare whose details she couldn’t recall, this was rare for her.
“Grandma! I’m off to work!”
She hastily raked her fingers through her messy hair and shouted as she rushed into the living room.
It was a cramped space that doubled as the kitchen. A single table barely left room for her and Grandma to sit.
“Be careful on the road!”
“Got it!”
Shin Do-rim, 22 years old.
She wasn’t heading to the subway. She had to pedal her bike down country roads.
As a kid, she’d been teased mercilessly about her name. But what tormented her even more was the absence of her parents.
Eighteen years living just with Grandma. She’d once been so intimidating, but now her strength was fading, leaving Do-rim to care for her.
‘Phew, made it! One minute to spare!’
Her part-time job at the convenience store ran from 8 a.m. to a full 12 hours later.
With the burden of supporting them both, she worked every day without rest. It was better than letting Grandma wander picking up cardboard, dragging a rickety cart.
“Shin Do-rim! Good work today!”
“Thanks! Head in!”
If she hadn’t taken this job, she might have been too shy to even greet the owner like this. But after two years dealing with every kind of customer, her timid nature had softened enough to fake normalcy.
There was one more reason she worked here. Even though it was in Gyeonggi Province, it was off the beaten path—quiet, with plenty of discarded food she could take home.
Sitting side by side with Grandma in front of the TV, sharing lunch boxes, triangle kimbap, bread, or milk—it was a small happiness.
Oh, and hardly any customers. On rainy days, sometimes not a single one came in 12 hours.
During those times, she read novels. Lately, the thought “Should I try writing one?” had struck her, giving her the courage to give it a shot.
‘Ah, a reply…….’
There was this author named Memento Mori. She’d gotten a message from him a month ago, but she’d binged all his works since then—lost track of time, even catching up to the latest chapters. Now, facing it all, fear had suddenly gripped her.
Why would someone this famous email her?
A scam?
【If talking on the phone feels burdensome, a text message would be fine.】
‘What do I do…….’
It was like watching TV when the male lead suddenly stuck his hand out of the screen and spoke to her.
Memento Mori was a top-tier author, yet he was showing interest in a nobody rookie like her. That very reason terrified her.
She fiddled with her phone, staring at the number that seemed to be his.
Truth be told, after posting her amateur piece online, she hadn’t written a word more. The more she read his works, the more her self-esteem plummeted. Not bursting into tears was a miracle.
Ding-a-ling.
The sound cut through her worries. The bell on the door jingled, drawing her gaze.
“Welcome……”
Her cheerful tone shrank instantly.
‘……Of all people…….’
Three women walked in. Faces so familiar she couldn’t even force a smile.
“Hey, Do-rim!”
“Shin Do-rim today too!”
“Can’t pass by Shin Do-rim!”
How could they all have such similar personalities? Stuck with them all through high school, she sighed inwardly.
One approached the counter.
“Cigarettes.”
Do-rim knew exactly what she smoked—her hand moved to the rack on instinct.
“Put it on my tab.”
Back in school, they’d tormented her worse, so settling for just running a tab now felt like a mercy.
“This too.”
Another shook a xylitol gum container.
“And this.”
The last peeled the wrapper off some bread as she spoke.
‘Haa…….’
Wherever they were headed, the glammed-up trio grabbed what they wanted and left. Peace returned to Do-rim.
Of course, the store didn’t allow tabs. Cigarettes, bread, gum—11,400 won she’d have to cover herself.
She’d lost more than her morning earnings already, but she had to swallow it. Fighting back would’ve meant getting dragged off and beaten.
“……”
This was her life.
“……”
Just another day.
Not just them—plenty of kids had looked down on her, whispered she was creepy, mocked her as trash.
She could endure it. She had to.
“……Hic.”
She thought she could tough it out, but today felt off.
Tap tap tap.
Why were tears falling again? Hadn’t they dried up long ago?
Her fingers and tears tapped the phone screen. Through blurry vision, she barely knew what she was typing.
Would it have been different if they hadn’t come?
Would she have held back the tears?
【……If we sign the contract, what will change?】
She hit send on the rude message to the famous author. No reply? She’d live with it.
Bzzz.
Was it the phone vibrating? Or her body trembling?
【Your life.】
That single short line made her burst into loud sobs.
‘Did it work?’
Number 8 had been timid and never shared her story. So I had no idea how she lived or what she did before meeting the Team Leader.
Still, it was reassuring that she’d reached out to me before that creep could drag her back. With just a little nurturing, she’d write something captivating—I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Something good happen?”
Jin-seong approached, wiping sweat with a towel.
I’d been watching the guys practice their group dance on the rooftop. DM moved like a single unit now—pretty idol-like.
But Jin-seong looked like a soldier on summer civilian duty. His loose tank top hung off him, and the rag of a towel around his neck had seen better days.
‘Hold on…….’
I hadn’t even checked my balance lately—didn’t know how much I had left. But surely enough remained to buy these guys some clothes?
I’d ask Ye-jin later.
“Jin-seong.”
“Yeah?”
“Round everyone up for dinner tonight.”
“Want me to grab some pork belly?”
“Nah, eating out today. I’ll tell Ye-jin.”
“Sweet!”
Bzzz.
A text came in mid-conversation.
“Get back to work. I’ll wrap practice by dinner.”
As Jin-seong walked off, I checked my phone.
【What should I do.......】
Should a writer spam ellipses like this? Well, personality’s hard to fix overnight.
I replied.
【Best if you can come in person to sign the contract. We can eat and chat too.】
【Part-time job makes that tough.....】
【Then share your address and time—we’ll come to you. Feedback on your writing too.】
【......Ah! Then.....】
Tomorrow evening would work. I’d tell Ye-jin.
I set the phone down and watched the group dance a bit longer. Sweat droplets flew like flower petals—time to get moving myself.
Even through those hellish 10 years, I’d learned one thing: obsess over anything, and you become a master like these guys.
Jin-seong used to yell his head off not long ago, but now the kids followed without him barking orders.
‘Cool.’
If something feels too good to keep to yourself, it’s probably about to get fun. High chance.
My novel had been like that, and so were they—coming together.
Thud.
Back in my room, I sat at the computer. Cramped, but cozy, focused, safe—no better spot.
Back when I was job-hunting, I’d dreamed vaguely of big money buying a spacious house, fancy car, sharp suit—ending the day with a satisfied smile, “Lived well today.”
Now those material desires were gone. Grown up? Or enlightened, chasing new values?
Oh, right.
Check the balance first.
‘Whoa, more than I thought?’
With all the dependents, payroll, utilities, payments everywhere—even after that, about 30 million won usable.
‘30 million…….’
Honestly, I didn’t grasp how much that was. Just numbers on a screen, unreal.
I handled way bigger sums monthly but never reaped direct benefits. Still eating Jin-seong’s cooking, wearing the same old clothes.
So?
I’m content.
‘Feed my kids well, clothe ’em next.’
Food’s covered—time for outfits.
Department stores close early, so we met at 6.
The kids were all so pretty, drawing stares constantly. In a fancy place like this, their casual clothes felt shabby.
‘Some people’s everyday.’
Not mine—first time here.
“Ooh, that’s cute!”
“New release?”
“Looks like it! Let’s go!”
Even in the department store, they beelined for sports brands—same level as me.
Ye-jin watched them and said,
“You sure we can blow the whole budget?”
“Told you. Gotta hold out till sponsorships kick in.”
“True, but……”
“Interviews, events—they need a few outfits.”
One guy’s easy. Five? Back-breaking. But knowing their potential value, I invested boldly.
Ye-jin wouldn’t splurge on luxury, though.
‘Raising idols costs a fortune.’
As Ye-jin followed them into the store, I leaned against the wall outside, tallying expenses.
More to pour in later, but debut minimum: 500 million won.
Songs to buy, Min Team Leader’s salary, recording, album shoots.
‘Still, we’re getting off cheap.’
Goshiwon living, practice room, skill-master Min pulling double duty—bare minimum costs.
So no penny-pinching today.
“Huh? Out already?”
Jin-seong slinked out.
“Not big on clothes.”
“Not buying for you to admire.”
“Ha, true. If you say wear it, I will.”
For a guy who looks good in anything, brands don’t matter. Real luxury’s the substance.
“They’ve bulked up—might need a size up from before.”
“Already?”
“Hard work pays off. Min Team Leader says bulk a bit more on muscle, then stop. Beastly vibe’s good, but too much and they’re bears, not wolves.”
Jin-seong’s proud grin was charming. All that sweat had toughened him up; the pretty boys’ reverse-macho builds would win hearts.
“Yeah, idols can’t be bears. You’re tiger-level already, though……”
One per group’s fine. Suited the vibe too.
Then,
—Hey!
Someone jogged over from across the way, waving.