Chapter 1
The air-conditioning feature of the small convenient store was in no way helping Nayeon with her sensitivity to cold, not to mention the already gloomy weather outside, the sort where rain with big bulk of drops was threatening to strike the hard soil anytime soon.
Even with her thick jacket all hugged up on her, Nayeon still felt her knees trembling slightly, and the cold just made her hug the items in her arms even tighter to her chest. She was relieved once it was her turn to lay these items on the counter. Not too long now.
She shielded her numbing hands with the pockets of her jacket. It barely warmed her, but at least it gave her a little comfort.
The cashier recorded the items a tool Nayeon could not bother to know what was called, beeping sounds would follow after she hovered this tool on every item. Nayeon did not mind her even as she muttered the names of the snacks and other products that Nayeon wanted to purchase. The small woman was most concerned about her surrounding, turning her head in every direction, afraid that someone she knew or knew her had spotted her. But the people inside the store could be counted with the fingers of one hand, the cashier included, and deep down Nayeon was aware it just her own paranoia that made her feel uneasy.
For weeks she had been full of nothing but insecurities, they were consuming like a how a wildfire would spread relentlessly across a forest. She cried all night and spent her days just staring off into the distance. She even found it hard to remember when was the last time she tended to her laundry. It was when she saw a photograph that she figured out she could not stay there, in the place where was discarded into by everyone she loved, any longer.
The photo was of herself, taken almost 10 years ago. In the photograph, she was laughing and the more she looked at it, the clearer the sound of that laughter became. She was in a corporate attire, and behind her there were cut-out letters hanging a few feet above her: SENIORS’ CAREER DAY. What made the photo even more special was the fact that it was candid, but it bore a cosmic void in Nayeon’s chest when she realized she had been feeling as if she was looking at a different person. This 17-year-old girl in the photograph had dreams—endless of them—and she also had the spirit to achieve those. Everything about the portrait screamed hope, buoyancy, gaiety.
She wanted to become that person again. She wanted to tell her, if they ever met in any absurd way, that she had achieved her dreams, and all this 17-year-old girl had to do was keep working hard. She did not want to disappoint her, and so that very day she packed up and decided Daegu was not her place anymore.
This day was unlike the ones she had these past weeks—at least that was what she was aiming for. She understood that the wounds would still throb, and they would still be as marvelously painful as the day they were etched in every part of her that it nearly damaged her soul, but at least this time she was choosing to move forward, away from it all.
Nayeon paid for the items she hoped would suffice for the next two days: a bunch of instant noodles and canned goods, a few chips and cookies, and bottles of water. She squeezed them all away into her backpack together with a few clothes and things she needed for her day-to-day routine. She was conscious of the weird gaze the cashier was throwing in her direction, but that was the last thing she cared about at the moment.
She had a bus to catch.
**
2 MONTHS LATER
Money was by no means an issue to the Chous, especially to the youngest of their family, Tzuyu. She had no difficulty recognizing it as one of the perks of being a part of the family who owned the top grossing commerce in the country, and many other countries aside from this one. She was unsalaried, and yet here she was, going on trips as she pleased. Jumping from one destination to another without fearing what would happen the next day because, well, she had money. And these days you could buy everything with it, even ephemeral glee. But everything had pros and cons. And one of the reparations of being in a wealthy family, which Tzuyu also had no difficulty learning, was a dysfunctional household.
The reason she ended up settling in South Korea, in an apartment bought by her much-loved brother, was not because her parents shipped her there forcefully, though it was probably what they told their phony associates back in Taiwan and what they wanted to believe. It actually was because Tzuyu was sick and tired of constantly arguing with their parents and having to take the blame for something she did not even care about. For some reason, her parents always found a way to point their fingers at her, and she would not wait until her mental and emotional well-being were entirely damaged by this. In the world of gold and silver, if you were a part of a harmonious and actually happy family, you just simply did not belong.
It had been nearly 4 years since she moved here, and since she did she could safely say that she always woke up without any worries. Her parents were miles away, and she was close to her brother who took care of their business in South Korea. And top of all that, she still had access to their family money because her brother would never let her roam the streets with nothing.
Another perk of being a Chou was the discounts offered (and sometimes straight up given) to her whenever she purchased any item from a shop where workers recognized her and knew she was rich. It could be a big plus points if you were good-looking, too. And Tzuyu was both rich and good-looking.
“80% discount? That’s quite generous, Miss…” She eyed the cashier’s nametag, “Lee.”
“I know, right? But as I have said, I’ll only give it to you if you take a photo with me.”
Tzuyu had been keeping her smile on for so long that the longer the other girl stared at it, the stranger and less real it looked. The truth was, Tzuyu did not get why this woman, obviously one or two stages lower than her in the social stratification, would choose to pay an already incredibly rich woman…for a selfie.
“Nope. I don’t want to.” Tzuyu slammed an evidently freshly minted 5000 won on the countertop, its novel whiff hanging by the cashier’s nostril for a few seconds. “And I don’t need your discount. In fact, keep the change. Keep it all. Treat yourself today. You seem like you could use a little loosening up after a long while.”
But the cashier lady was relentless; she only glanced once at the money in front of her and looked back up at Tzuyu. “I will give it to you for free if you just take one photo with me!”
“Miss Lee, it’s not really about the money, okay? I have tons of that. The last thing I want right now is a bunch of other people chasing after me, asking for a selfie, too. I can’t deal with that, okay? I enjoy my privacy too much for that. So just take all this money, and let me leave peacefully.”
The cashier scowled but did not say anything after, finally seeing the point in why Tzuyu was so against it. Tzuyu picked up the disposable holder where Miss Lee slipped both coffees she ordered, and spun. They looked like scales, weighing equally in the holder, and they slightly swung back and forth as Tzuyu began to walk.
She was wearing a plain t-shirt and ripped jeans, and those sophisticated friends she left in Taiwan would probably cringe away from her and ask her, how could she dress like that? But Tzuyu preferred it this way. Simply because she had learned that low profile, less problems. Sure, being a wealthy man’s daughter had its perks, but the extra attention the public was giving her was suffocating. Even the strangers cared about how she would act, because everybody expected something from someone like her. Her department from Taiwan to Korea was even on the newspaper in her hometown for days, and she did not like that.
The moment Tzuyu pushed the door of the café open, the calm, soothing music inside intermingled with the typical city noises in the morning: the honking of cars, some people yelling—Tzuyu was almost certain she could also make out the sounds of the other people’s footsteps. The overall atmosphere changed, from the sounds to the visuals and smell, even the feeling. The further she stepped away from the café, the more she embraced at inhaled delightfully this completely different atmosphere.
Tzuyu loved the city. She easily got what she needed here given that most shops were right across where she lived. If she needed something to eat, the restaurants were lining up, just waiting for her to choose one of them, and the delivery was invented for when she was too lazy to take the walk. It was also easy to socialize with people. Just a few compliments, fake or not, you would get them to like you. Aside from that, there was just something about the city’s lack of stagnancy that in some ways made Tzuyu feel comfortable.
She was barely seen here, and as long as she kept her low profile, nobody would actually care what she was doing with her life. Whenever she thought of it, she would crack a smile thinking, ironic, isn’t it? Some people thought one could not have a peaceful life in a place as restless as this, but that was the point. Amidst all the chaos, there was a little to no likelihood of people even finding time to spare you a glance, if you only know how to take a step back and just… observe in silence.
Tzuyu’s destination was her brother’s office. Arriving at the building, she ran to the elevator. She pressed the button where the number 11 was written, and waited quietly. The building was exceedingly spacious and very white—white tiles, white walls—there even were white couches as the elevator opened to a small mini lounge—that when she stepped out of the elevator she felt an unpleasant sensation of vertigo striking her shortly. But she did not waste time staring at those probably newly purchased couches, not wanting her coffees to turn cold before they could even take a sip.
Taking the path to her brother’s office, some employees greeted her and bowed to which she only responded with a small smile. Tzuyu was known in this part of the building, especially by the team her brother was handling, but not because Tzuyu did something very heroic for the company or for anyone in there, but rather because of the scandalous dispute she had with their parents right in front of Mark’s office’s towering door.
“Mrs. Kim is not outside in her little place waiting for any of your instructions, which is so unlike the usual. Did you fire her?” Tzuyu opined, not bothering to give her brother a decent greeting simply because it was never a thing for them.
“I didn’t. She quit her job. The Kim family are moving to US, she said her son sounded very final when he said he wanted them to live with him there.”
Mark, like how he always was whenever Tzuyu visited, was frantic and active. Constantly traveling from one place to another, then back to the previous place. Just by looking at him, one would know he had a turbulent mind. Up to these days, Tzuyu would bring up the subject about when Mark got discarded by his date before because he began talking about transactions and laissez-faire.
Tzuyu sat down in one of the two seats that were facing each other, situated right in front of Mark’s tidy desk. “And you really have no secretary right now?” Tzuyu just removed the coffees from the holder, letting the other one rest on its place, and taking the other to finally get a sip of her favorite vanilla latte.
“I do, of course. I have one person from my team do the job until we find a new one, which hopefully is soon.” He turned to his laptop now and began tapping on his keyboard so furiously Tzuyu could hear the agony of each key.
“Doesn’t that still make your team’s work harder? I mean, you may have your secretary, but they lost a teammate.”
“Yep. That’s why I need to find a new secretary ASAP.” Mark seemed to be looking for something—he always was. He was muttering a word under his breath, again and again, “Proposals, proposals, proposals…”
“You seem beeping busy.”
“Yes, I am, and that’s why we need to get straight to the point today.”
“Well, you’re the one who called me up here. So you get straight to the point. What is it you wanna say?”
Mark answered just as Tzuyu raised the cup of coffee to her lips, “I’m getting married.” And Tzuyu choked on her favorite vanilla latte, sending a few drops of it on the surface of Mark’s beloved desk. “Okay, I’m going to let that one slide because I understand the reaction.”
“I’m sorry, you’re what now?!” Tzuyu asked as soon as she recovered.
“I’m getting married, Tzu,” Mark repeated with no hesitations, as if he did not just see his sister’s initial reaction to the statement.
“Yeah, I heard that part quite clearly.” Tzuyu put her coffee down on the desk and focused on her brother. Suddenly coffee was not what she wanted right now. “But why- how?”
“Jackson proposed to me last, last night.”
“Didn’t you two just get back together, like, last month?”
“Mhm, and he said he did not want to lose me again, so he’s marrying me.”
“Yeah, I suppose he hasn’t heard of divorce yet, then.” Tzuyu rolled her eyes and immediately grew defensive when Mark shot her his death glare. “What? It’s true, he can still lose you even when you’re already married.”
“Tzuyu, I don’t know how you even came up with that response.”
“Right,” she raised her hands as if to denote her defeat, “don’t get me wrong, I am happy for you. But are you really sure about this? I mean, you’re like, 26… aren’t you too young for this? I’m sure there are many things you still want to do before getting married.”
“There are things I wanna do, but I’d rather do it with him,” Mark said, and Tzuyu, suddenly getting sick to her stomach, winced and probably thought, God. People and their romances. “Look, I know you’re not really fond of Jackson-“
“Well, considering he only wanted your money at first—and don’t defend him because he admitted that.”
“I know, I know. But it’s been years, Tzuyu. He’s proven himself and his sincerity more than enough. Please, just give him a chance… I love him, Tzuyu.”
“Okay, gross.” Despite this comment, Tzuyu still rose to her feet and embraced her brother. “I’m happy if you’re happy, but you know I’m also willing to swing a bat right onto his face if he ever does you wrong. Again.”
Mark, chuckling, hugged Tzuyu too and said, “I know that very well. Thank you.”
Tzuyu was the first to disengage from the hug. “Do you need me to plan the wedding? Is that why you summoned me?”
“What? No, no. We have professionals… for that. What I need you to do is take a better care of yourself,” something about his tone made Tzuyu think he was not done yet, and she was right, “and find a job,” Mark finished.
“Okay, I did not see that coming.”
Tzuyu inhaled, still processing what his brother had just said.
“Tzu, once we get married, I’ll have other things to focus on. You will no longer be my baby—“
“I am not a baby.”
“—and I will be even busier. I just want to make sure you’ll be fine even without me. Because being a husband is not the same as being just a boyfriend. It’s a whole new level of responsibility. Plus, Tzu, you’re 24. You really should have figured some things out by now. Especially because you refuse to accept help from mom and dad.”
Tzuyu was nodding, but Mark could tell that by the way she was staring through the floor, her mind was not really in the moment. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Tzu, that’s what you say when you don’t get it.” Mark shifted on where he stood, worried about his sister. He had dreaded having to tell her this. Tzuyu was his sister, he knew her deeply—sometimes even more so than Tzuyu did. No matter how tall of a wall she built around herself, no matter how impervious she thought she was, Mark knew that many things still got to her emotions.
“Yes, I do, dummy. I’m just thinking about my favorite ice cream. I can’t wait to go home and eat it as I process every information that just came from you.”
Mark smiled, though the concern was still there. “Well, you have all the time today. I need to go. There are potential business partners I need to meet.”
But it really was not the information about the wedding and the fact that she had to get a job soon that Tzuyu had a hard time processing, it was the other things Mark had said that left her sinking deep in her thoughts all day, and the day after that, and the one after that.
He was right, Tzuyu was a grown up woman and she needed to act and think according to her age. Why had it never occurred to her that Mark’s spoiling her was bound to come to an end? Now she felt bad, and for once she wondered what Mark could have been feeling and thinking the whole time she had been depending on him.
The idea of herself being independent was all a lie, because all this time she had been depending on him, using his money for her own greedy and careless way of living. Not once, though, did he ever complain nor use it against Tzuyu whenever they had arguments. But it was wrong of her to assume that just because he never did, what she was doing was reasonable.
For three days Tzuyu’s head had been nothing but laced with these thoughts, and her heart with guilt she never thought she was ever capable of feeling.
**
The world was wired to perform tricks, events, that were bound to shake you and challenge your beliefs. Chou Tzuyu could not for love nor money forget that one memory in third when she joined a pajama party. Just her and her probably eight other friends. Her parents let her, of course. At the time she thought it was because they had trusted her not to disgrace their family name even without them keeping an eye on her, but today Tzuyu realized how wrong she was; they let her join the pajama party merely because they could not care less.
The pajama party was held at Yeh Shuhua’s house, another Taiwanese fellow in the sea of Lees and Kims. Needless to say, Tzuyu had trusted Yeh Shuhua the most that time. Tzuyu was sure they still would have been friends by now, and she still would have trusted Shuhua with her life, if the sly woman did not touch Tzuyu’s hair while she was asleep.
Tzuyu did not have a hard time whenever she recalled it, given that the memory remained as clear as day. She slept in peace in that pajama party, but the next morning she opened her eyes to the other third graders, in their colorful pajamas, gathered around her. Almost everyone was stifling a laugh, either careful not to wake her or careful not to send her to a ranging fit.
If there was something Tzuyu did not approve of, it’s the horrible, ugly human creation called “bangs”. Humans thought it was to improve the overall look of people, but it only made one look worse, unless their forehead was the size of the 24-acre land that they owned. She remembered screaming when she saw her front hair cut raggedly, as if she had been a practice subject of someone who wanted to start a business that involved hairs but had no idea what they got themselves into.
That day, instead of going to school, she asked their driver to drop her off to “any place that fixes hair. And in that place, the worker told her there was no other choice but to cut it shorter to full bangs if she at least wanted to look less…obscene. And so Chou Tzuyu, probably the biggest scoffer of bangs, walked out of that place with, well, bangs.
It did not end there, of course. Everyone questioned this new appearance of hers, not because it did not suit her but because everyone knew how she felt towards the “most absurd hairdo known to mankind”, as she called it.
The days that followed gradually taught Tzuyu that having bangs was not so bad after all. In fact, she thought it looked good on her. She never talked to Yeh Shuhua since then, because if there was another thing the experience had taught her, it was that if she could not trust that obnoxious little girl with her hair, she could definitely never trust her with her life.
An identical circumstance was happening today. Tzuyu swore she had to die before staying for more than five minutes in Poppy’s Pizza Galore because for one, she had always had a bad encounter with pizzas, and two, she liked better their rival ice cream shop just across the street. And yet, here she was, at that very place, seated in one of their booths, and soon would be served the most horrible food made in history.
“What is it?” Dahyun asked, sliding into the seat across Tzuyu, right next to the shortest girl in their circle, Chaeyoung.
“It must be important since you really came all the way here, and we all know you don’t like it here,” said Chayeoung, a hint of bitterness was obvious in her tone, as she put her crumpled red apron upon the table.
“We only have 15 minutes; we need to get back to work.”
“To work? You own this place,” Tzuyu said, matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, which is why we should be the first ones to work hard for it to thrive,” Dahyun spoke slowly, gently, as if she was talking to a kid and she wanted the kid to understand her point.
“Fine, I get it.”
“No, you don’t,” Chaeyoung argued. Tzuyu sensed she wanted to have a little verbal conflict, to confront Tzuyu about the fact the she was not so fond of the pizza place and to attempt to change her beliefs. But Dahyun shot Chaeyoung a glance that the three of them knew was telling her don’t even try. Chaeyoung could only roll her eyes, defeated. “Fine. Just tell us what it is.”
“3 days ago, my brother told me he’s getting married. And that I should get a job, basically because eventually he’s gonna stop giving me money, as he would like to spend it all with his soon-to-be husband.” Tzuyu tried to make it as brief as she could. If she had to be honest, she really was not that enthused about talking about it.
As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she was embarrassed to be this way in front of her friends.
“Well, first of all, I’m happy for him. Send my cheers to him if you could. And second of all, I’m glad you’re finally getting your life together. I’m proud of you.”
“No, Dahyun. That’s the part I’m so… beeping confused with. I have no idea where to start getting it all together.”
“Don’t you have a degree in Business?” Chaeyoung asked pointedly.
“I do. But I can’t just start a business out of nowhere.”
“You’re a Chou, of course you can do that. You have the money and people from the entrepreneurial world to help you.”
“You mean, take advantage of my inexperience,” Tzuyu corrected Chaeyoung with the effect of pointing finger. Chaeyoung made a face that acknowledged Tzuyu’s modification of the statement. “And no, I don’t have the money. My parents do, and I would pet a live rat first before I ask them for help. Plus, I also feel so guilty because it hit me just recently how much of a beeping burden I have been to my brother, and he never said a word about it.”
Tzuyu’s unease was evident by the way she could not look at her friends and the way she could not stop fiddling with her hands atop the table. No one spoke for a few seconds. Tzuyu because she was reflecting, Chaeyoung because she did not really know what to say, and Dahyun because she was afraid what she had in mind would be considered a foul once she conveyed it aloud.
A waiter came to serve a slice of pizza for each of them and Tzuyu just did not want to seem ungrateful for her friends’ company, but she wanted to much to wince at the food.
“Say it, Dahyun. You’re the smartest here, I know there’s something you wanna say,” Tzuyu urged when the waiter left.
“Well, I just think—this is just my opinion—but,” Dahyun stuttered, and Chayeoung beside her was giving her a concerned look, probably wondering how horrible the suggestion was that Dahyun was so afraid to tell Tzuyu. “Don’t you think this is fate’s way of saying you should turn to your parents?”
“Oh, not so smart now,” Chaeyoung muttered through gritted teeth, sensing she was in a situation that would not end well.
A groan escaped Tzuyu’s mouth, shoulders slacked out of disappointment. “I just said I’d rather pet a beeping live rat first before I do that.”
“Well, there are a lot of them in that ice cream shop you so happen to love. Consider it a start,” teased Chaeyoung before taking a bite on her food.
“Ew, gross. Do you say that to all of your costumers?” Tzuyu asked, disgusted, and Chaeyoung only laughed.
“Okay, there’s another suggestion… brewing,” Dahyun cut in, still hesitant, but at least a tid more confident this time. Two pairs of eyes were on her, ears waiting for the next thing she had to say. “Why don’t you… work here?”
Tzuyu opened her mouth and Dahyun knew what was going to come out of it would not be good, so Dahyun held up a hand and proceeded to elaborate:
“Listed to me first. I know you want to heave a real work, and that the last thing you want to be is involved with pizzas, but we all know you still have no idea what business it is you wanna grow. I’m just saying maybe working here would give you time and space to think about it, and while you do that you get to earn money as well.”
“Smart,” Chayeoung commented, “two stones with one bird.”
“It’s actually the other way around, Chaeng. But anyway,” Dahyun turned to Tzuyu again, “the money you will earn is not much but you’re smart, Tzuyu. So much smarter than you think. You’ll make do with it.
Tzuyu still felt the urge to convey her refusal, but Dahyun’s suggestion this time actually made some sense. She was right, like many other times. It was just Tzuyu’s pride that was still keeping her from agreeing.
But it was not the time to prioritize her pride. In fact, that was the last thing she needed to protect. At the time she had to put first what was important, and she knew she had to be thankful her friends were there helping her to figure it out instead of complaining.
Tzuyu bit her upper lip, then she said, “okay, then. Let’s give that a try.”
Dahyun looked relieved, maybe even more so than Tzuyu herself. There was always something about knowing her friends would be fine that eased her. Perhaps because in this small group she was actually the oldest one, and instinctively she had taken on the big sister role.
“Okay, that’s good. You can start tomorrow, if you want,” said Dahyun.
Chaeyoung’s eyes bawled out for a second, then she looked at Dahyun to see if she really was serious about it.
“Wait—no interviews and all that?” Tzuyu asked.
“Same question I have in mind,” said Chaeyoung.
“Well, it’s not like you’re a complete stranger.” Dahyun beamed a smile, the kind that would have comforted anyone who was in deep sorrow. “You’re our friend, Tzuyu. We trust you.”
Before leaving, Tzuyu hugged them both, whispering a heartfelt “thank you” to each of them. She went back home feeling a lot more unburdened than she felt when she left this morning. She drifted to sleep just a few seconds after slumping her body into the couch. Only then did she really realize the exhaustion of her overthinking the past days.
Back at Poppy’s Pizza Galore, as Dahyun and Chaeyoung watched Tzuyu exiting the place, Chaeyoung heaved a deep breath that said she was sure something unpleasant would eventually go down—that they just made a terrible decision.
“Are we sure about this?” Chaeyoung asked, realizing a bit late that she had just spoken her thoughts aloud.
“I am sure. Are you?” Dahyun countered, less asking and more proving a point.
“I’m sorry. It’s just… she barely knows anything about running a business, let alone a business that’s all about pizza. She doesn’t even like this place.”
“Come on, we both know her disapproval of this whole thing is not serious. She probably only expresses it to piss us off—to piss you off. And I believe even Tzuyu can set that pettiness aside for her own good.”
In the end, Chaeyoung’s eyes softens as she laid it upon Dahyun’s face. The other girl had always been so comforting. Her presence alone was so immensely appeasing, and if Chaeyoung had to be honest, she could not imagine her life without the Kim Dahyun.
“Okay. I trust your judgments.”
“Of course you do. I’m like, the least unhinged one in the team.”
Chaeyoung rolled her eyes and Dahyun launched towards her the red cap they put on once it’s time for work.
**
Mark’s office was, perhaps, the tidiest, most organized place Tzuyu had ever seen. For someone who had a lot in his plate 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, Mark sure did an excellent job still keeping the interior of his workplace pleasing to the eyes. Its floor made of white tiles was untouched by dirt. So much so that Tzuyu thought one could probably make it their mirror. His windows were wall-wide and it gave Mark, or really anyone in the room, a marvelous panorama of the city below. His desk was made of fine wood, always smooth against the skin, and lined up against the wall was a series of intimidating bookshelves standing tall next to one another.
Situated on the desk were a lampshade, his laptop, a pencil holder and a few pens in it, a neatly stacked bunch of folders, and two photographs in frame—one of his when he graduated college, and one of their own family. Tzuyu remembered when it was taken. On a dinner night the Lius, where his father attempted to be a set her up with Mr. Liu’s skinny, stiff son. It was not a pleasant night, and Tzuyu abhorred the photo.
Her scrutinizing of the place came to a halt when Mark arrived, taking fast and big steps towards his desk. He did not seem to mind that Tzuyu was the one sitting in his “spinning chair”, as Tzuyu called it, and just ran through the papers Tzuyu had been seeing since she came. He sat instead in the seat that was supposed to be for his visitors.
“Marky, you good?” Tzuyu asked, and it was also an attempt to make her presence acknowledged.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Mark was nodding, but Tzuyu sensed it was more to convince himself that he was okay. Then, he finally spared his sister a glance. “I’m sorry. It’s just been really busy. And I would tell you what it’s all about but I know how nauseous you become whenever you’re being talked to about business.”
“I’m quite impressed and touched that you know me that well.”
Mark rolled his eyes and set the papers back down on the table. He focused now on his sister. “Okay, what is it? I only have 10 minutes.”
Tzuyu groaned at him. She was getting more and more disgruntled of people clocking her. Then she thought, well, at least now I have a beeping job, too. And it will be my turn to clock your asses.
“I came because of your new secretary.”
Confused, Mark jolted his head back without realizing, then he asked, “Wha— how did you know I already have a new secretary?”
“This is a big ass company, Marky, of course applicants must have come flooding the moment you made it known that you’re looking for a new secretary.” Tzuyu leaned back against the chair, acting as she owned the office. “Plus, remember when you called me the other day? About the Koi fish? When you asked me if I thought it would be good to have an enormous embroidery of it displayed in your new home with Jackson? And I said, ‘no, that’s ugly as beep’, but you proceeded to purchase it anyway?”
“God, couldn’t you have skipped that part?”
Tzuyu’s lips twitched; oh, how she loved being a nuisance to those around her.
“Well, as we argued further on that phone call, you said something that goes. ‘Miss Im, could you bring in some tea, please?’” Tzuyu obliged her voice to sound deeper, mimicking his brother, and the civility of his tone. “And I just knew Miss Im was your new secretary. And I also had a feeling she’s very pretty. The way her last name sounds? Gives me the beeping chills, to be honest. Sounds like a Korean Athena to me.”
Mark massaged his temples, then scratched his forehead thinking, It’s not like it’s her first time hearing that last name. “Well, you’re right. But I’m sure she’s not the actual reason you’re here. Quit fooling around, Tzu. I have an appointment in less than,” he glanced at his wristwatch, “15 minutes.”
Tzuyu, nothing but fed up with his brother’s reminders of how much time he had, dropped both her hands atop the desk, making a sharp thud that bedeviled her older brother and even made the pencil holder move.
“I finally have a job.”
“Well…” Mark trailed off, and Tzuyu could discern his uncertainty as to what he should say. Which was quite a shame, and disappointing, because she came all the way here full of anticipation to see his proud reaction in person. It turned out over the phone or face-to-face, she was not bound to see the reaction she expected. “What kind of job is it?”
And that was Tzuyu’s cue to leave. She rose from the spinning chair and said, “It doesn’t matter. You’re busy, aren’t you?” It was not in her intentions to make it so obvious how disheartened she was, but her fragility was for a while apparent in her voice.
She might as well leave, because if she could not make him proud of the fact that she had a job, there was no way he would be proud of the kind of job she had landed in.
Tzuyu struggled to fight back the urge to yell at his face. All those work she had put into building her guard up, she could not waste it all just because she felt neglected again.
“Tzu…” Mark called, his tone let Tzuyu know of his apologies, and he made an attempt to hold Tzuyu’s hand as she passed by him, but she did not stop, and her hand merely brushed through his.
Tzuyu would have opened the door herself, eager to step her foot out of the office and its atmosphere which Tzuyu was not really fond of, if it somebody else on the other side did not open it before Tzuyu herself could even touch the knob. Next thing Tzuyu knew, she was looking at a woman who poked her head out into the small opening that the door gave.
“Sir, your appointment with Mr. Seo is in 10 minutes. Would you like me to get you a new coat and tie?” The woman asked, so politely that she gave Tzuyu the impression that she could never push anyone’s button.
Tzuyu stood still on where she had stopped, eyes all on the woman who did not seem to notice her presence as her body was practically shielded by the door, or if she did, she probably could not care less. Her hair was in the blurry line between brown and black, and it cascaded until her shoulders. She had cheeks that you knew were soft the moment you looked at them, and accentuated cheekbones with a faint touch of red cosmetics. Her nose, despite its being the only feature on her face that was not quite plump, complemented her other features and there was no denying that it belonged there, on the crest of her lips which reminded Tzuyu of cherries and peaches.
But among all these, Tzuyu was uttermost absorbed in her eyes. They were stars, robbed of their gleam but Tzuyu knew they once shone like no other. Their luster now could barely be beheld, and they were struggling to keep themselves from completely dying out.
A broken angel.
“Thank you for the reminder, Secretary Im. And yes, please, kindly fetch me a new coat and tie.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Secretary Im, before you leave, I want you to meet my sister,” Mark stood up and motioned his hand towards the younger Chou, “Chou Tzuyu.”
Tzuyu had just gotten a grasp on the present time when she heard her name being mentioned. “Yeah. Hi. I am Tzuyu. Chou Tzuyu,” she said. She was not quite sure what to say after, though there were some things on her mind such as, no one’s beauty but mine is allowed to startle me, you have no business breaking that rule, but she really did not think it would be a good idea to say that aloud.
Tzuyu wanted to shake her hands, to be able to know how her skin would feel against hers, but judging from the way Secretary Im could barely handle the number of folders in her arms—she was practically hugging them—Tzuyu knew she could not demand a handshake from her right now.
“Good morning, Miss Chou. It’s my pleasure to finally meet you.” Secretary Im made a polite bow, the sign of her respect, and she was smiling, but there was something about it that told Tzuyu it was feigned.
Nayeon then left the office, heels clicking against the tiles loudly.
Tzuyu turned to Mark and asked, “Finally?”
“Yeah, I’ve mentioned to her before that I have a sister who likes to barge in, and that if she ever catches her on act, she does not need to call the security.”
Tzuyu was not sure if her brother was telling the truth or just trying to break the prior tension they had before the secretary came into the room.
“I am proud of you, Tzu. I’ve always been,” said Mark, looking at her.
Tzuyu had always believed him and his assurances. He was Mark, her brother, and he would never tell her anything she did not mean.
He just gave her a tap on the shoulder before starting towards his table, probably to continue his business with those papers he left there.
“That’s the new secretary?” Tzuyu asked, shifting subjects. She pointed at the door where she last saw the girl.
“Yes. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“Does she have the brains, though?” Tzuyu asked again instead of agreeing to his last words. She had always acted indifferent to the things or people that actually aroused her interest.
“Oh, you’ll be surprised. You’d think a face like that only received the gift of beauty, but she’s actually quite smart. She’s only been here for four days and she has already contributed a lot of her ideas.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah. Oh, indeed.”
Mark glanced at Tzuyu, which Tzuyu probably did not even notice because her thoughts were obviously preoccupied by something—somebody else. Mark could not help himself from smiling, and just turned his back to his sister to set his papers aside, now finally done with them. Then he looked out the tall window he had, happy that he was finally seeing his sister curious, and it was not about a new gadget this time.
**
It had had been 9 days since Tzuyu began working at Poppy’s Pizza Galore which, she learned, was called PPG by many customers. She could not say she had finally grown to love the musky smell of pizza that constantly clouded her brain, or the never ending demands of the flooding customers—she figured, perhaps not wanting to be a servant to anyone really ran in their blood—or the infuriating noise in the kitchen where all the process of preparing foods happened (and where she was first assigned in), but her being preoccupied was better than just sitting around at her apartment, indulging in luxuries she had no certainty until when she would have.
The place was just like those diners she saw in movies; there were many booths and fat couches upholstered with thick velvet red. The windows were also wide, giving the customers, especially those sitting right by them, a view outside as the chewed on the abomination that was pizza. Outside, the name of the shop was displayed on the roof, three words stacked on each other, big and clear, “Poppy’s Pizza Galore” attached to an enormous slice of pizza that stood slantwise. At night, it would turn out that this massive sign sitting on their roof was bordered with bright red and yellow neon, the illumination completely catching the attention of any passersby like what it was meant to do.
A few picture frames lined up the wall, and they were easily noticeable from where Tzuyu was standing behind the counter. One of these pictures was taken when the Pizza Galore had first opened, Chaeyoung and Dahyun next to each other, clasping each other’s hands. Their smiles were big, but you could tell it was not for the camera. Even from outside the portrait, Tzuyu could feel her friends’ immense euphoria having found their own paradise, a place where they were sure they belonged. Tzuyu remembered envying them the first time she observed the photograph, craving for that sense of comfort and belongingness, but she shook it off almost as soon as she caught the feeling and instead took out her frustrations on the first beeping pizza she made.
She was not originally a cashier. The work that was first assigned to her was “help the people in the kitchen”, but not even a day in that place yet and she already got into a little conflict with one of her co-workers there. About hygiene, when an old woman (Tzuyu did not bother recalling her name) claimed Tzuyu did not wash her hands before touching the mushrooms. And because clearly the woman was just annoyed at her for no reason, Tzuyu argued with her, and what once a small argument turned into something that involved throwing bell peppers and onions and pineapple slices at each other.
She was lucky Dahyun still had the heart to let her continue working, and even made everyone else adjust for Tzuyu. But she warned her, too.
“Tzuyu, this has to be the first and the last, do you understand? Because Chaeyoung will kick me out of our unit if you mess up and I have to defend you again.”
Tzuyu put down the red cap she had been wearing all day, and removed the red apron that was hugging her. Recently, this part of her days had been the one she looked forward to the most, finally getting rid of things that only made her feel like she was being scorched alive. Not to mention the color given to her (there were two color codes: yellow and red) was a mammoth when it came to absorbing heat. And she just knew those wearing yellow were not spared, either.
Whoever picked the theme colors of this place did a terrible job.
She folded the apron and along with the cap she slid it in her bag, looking at the wide mirror one last time before turning her heel, leaving the restroom at last. Outside, she met Chaeyoung who seemed like she was also just about to leave.
Chaeyoung and Dahyun’s work at PPG consisted mainly of entertaining customers, going up to each of them to chat as they ate, making sure they enjoyed the food and the service in general. Occasionally they would help serving or preparing foods, or helping Tzuyu at the counter, but being the owner of the place, they had the right to just do whatever they felt like doing.
Chaeyoung smiled at her as she hung the sling of her bag on her shoulder. Tzuyu reciprocated the gesture.
“Hey,” Chaeyoung greeted.
“Hey. Where’s Dahyun?” asked Tzuyu, then stopped once she was right in front of Chaeyoung.
The shorter one began walking, and Tzuyu followed her out. “Oh, she’s out early. There are papers we have to finalize for the second branch of PPG and she volunteered to shoulder it today.”
“Second one already? Wow, that’s amazing.”
“You mean that?”
“Yeah, of course. Disregarding the fact that the business is… pizza, I’m totally proud of my best friends’ success.”
Chaeyoung laughed, stopping to lock the entrance of Poppy’s, then they continued walking to Chaeyoung’s car, parked just in front of the place. “Thank you,” she said and leaned on her car. “Listen, I know I’ve been a little hard and distrusting of you these days. It’s just, I know you’re not really fond of this whole thing and I was afraid we’re putting our business at some risk, with you being here. To be quite honest, I still am. But before an owner of a Pizza house, I was your best friend first. And I figured instead of stressing myself out thinking eventually you would… fuck up, why not just start believing that you won’t? So I’m sorry. I mean that.”
“That’s fine. I understand. If I were in your shoes I would be worried, too. Except in my case, the business probably would not involve the pizzas.”
“Why do you even hate it so much?”
“First of all, because all of them taste like beeping spoiled bread.”
Chaeyoung cocked an eyebrow, written in her face was her questioning of Tzuyu’s answer. “You’re the only one who thinks that way, so I’ll just take it your taste buds are jammed.”
“You mean unique.”
“Nah, I think the correct term is weird.” Chaeyoung raised her hand, in it was her car remote.
“It’s un—“
“Do you need a ride home?” Chaeyoung cut her off, her voice overlapping with the beeping of her car.
“Oh, no. It’s fine. Besides, I also have somewhere to be.”
“At this time?”
It was almost 10 in the evening. Tzuyu forgot that.
“Well, yes. I’m a busy woman now, you know.”
Chaeyoung only laughed a little, “Okay, well… you take care… wherever that somewhere is.”
Tzuyu nodded, knowing well that her friend was not really convinced of her lie. It did not really matter, though. She stepped away from the car, and she stayed there to watch the car disappear into the chilly evening breeze. The wind blew, putting some strands of her hair on her face, then she turned around and took the opposite direction that Chaeyoung did.
She had nowhere else to be tonight but home, but the thing was, Tzuyu loved her solitude. Especially during the evening, when everything was just a little toned down—the noise, the people in the streets, the turbulent and non-stop moving—and she was accompanied not just by her thoughts but also the moon and the blinking stars, and the air that caressed her like her own mother never had and never would.
She held onto the strap of her bag for a while without seeming to be conscious of it. She looked skywards, her stride slowing down to a stop. She loved this, being here beneath the night sky and just… being. She inhaled deeply, for the moment not minding the fact that the city air was barely anything but a mixture of toxic substances, because to her she was breathing in the stars, and when she closed her eyes she could feel them shimmering in her chest, in her hands and feet, and soon all over her body. She did not have a care at all if the few people passing by thought she was weird, she just continued to be in this sensation, the hairs on her nape rising.
Until she heard a sob coming from the alley to her left. She did not act on it immediately and waited for another sob, to make sure her dazed mind had not made it up.
And there was another sob, and another one after that.
Tzuyu then embarked into the dingy alley. The steps were damp even though it did not rain all day, and Tzuyu had a guess it was from the two buildings that stood tall on either side of her. The taller of the two had some sort of a stair that zigzagged up to its highest floor. Tzuyu knew what it was. A fire exit. And this building must be an apartment, a rather old and cheap one.
At the very first step of the stair sat a small woman, and on the ground right next to her feet were a couple of luggage. Slowly, Tzuyu approached her, like how one would approach a stray cat—careful not to frighten it.
“Miss?” Tzuyu called.
The woman raised her face from her knees, some of her hair pasted on her face by her tears and sweat, her face wore not cosmetics but the stupendous exhaustion Tzuyu guessed, from too much crying. Tzuyu could not believe her eyes. This woman was the same one she had encountered in her brother’s office not long ago, but not quite the same.
Seeing her, Miss Im’s crying came to a stop. She pressed her fingers on her cheeks, brushing away the stains of her tears. She rose from where she sat and it was as if just like that, she had built her guard back up. If she ever was embarrassed to have her boss’ sister see her this way, then she was doing a great job concealing it.
“Miss Chou, what are you doing here at this hour?” Miss Im questioned, fidgeting and not looking at Tzuyu.
Tzuyu, on the other hand, had her eyes fixated on Miss Im, admiring her beauty that shone even in the dark. Like the moon—Tzuyu thought—beautiful, glistening. Magnificent and breathtaking. And unlike the sun, her luster did not hurt the eyes.
But so like the moon, something about her also emitted melancholy. She was beautiful but distant, and she preferred it that way.
“I have a feeling I should be the one asking you that,” Tzuyu said, unaware of the way she was looking at Miss Im. Her gaze fluttered from her lips to her eyes, and Tzuyu had a lot of questions in her mind.
“I was just about to head to my friend’s place. I will spend the night there.” Miss Im turned around and picked up her bags.
“No- at this time? No, you can’t roam around the city by yourself.”
“Isn’t that what you were doing just a few minutes ago?”
Tzuyu was silenced for a few seconds. She just watched as Miss Im hung one of the bags on her shoulder, and kept a tight grip on the other. Easily, Tzuyu had discerned her difficulty to find balance as the bags weighed her down. For once, Tzuyu felt her heart weaken at the sight. A woman, all by herself in the dark with evident hurt in everything she does.
“Would you… like to stay at my place tonight? I just think it’s too late for you to be finding your way to your friend’s, wherever that is.” Tzuyu was surprised by the way she was talking. Gentle and careful. So afraid to afflict more pain on the already wounded Miss Im. “Please, let me help you.”
Miss Im spun and looked at her. Tzuyu saw she had let go of the tense in her shoulders, as if slowly she was letting her guard down, not because she trusted Tzuyu but because she was barely managing to hold it from the beginning.
“Yes, I would like that.” Miss Im took a step forward, closer to the tall woman who had offered her help. The woman she never expected to come to her rescue.
Tzuyu did not flinch at Miss Im’s action. She stayed there, astounded as she had a difficulty grasping on the reality that a person could look so delicate and captivating it was almost painful. Tzuyu then realized she had been holding her breath.
Nayeon was used to catching everyone’s attention. She turned heads wherever she went, especially when she was in her best state, but those looks only lingered on what was outside. This one Tzuyu gave her saw beyond that. It was the sort that you felt physically, as if her gaze could touch her skin. It was the first time she had received this look in a long while, and she just realized how much she had missed it. The feeling of having somebody look at her this way.
It then dawned on Nayeon just how lonely she really had been in the past months. And now, having Tzuyu here with her in this cold and filthy alley, somehow she felt the hollow in her chest filled.
“Okay, then. That’s good.” Tzuyu smiled at her. Then, without breaking their eye contact, reached for the other bag Miss Im held in her hand. “I’ll carry this for you.”
Nayeon was not in her right mind. She was bewildered, confused by the sudden emotions that Tzuyu’s presence had strangely kindled. For once in such a long time, she was not alone. For once she felt genuinely adored again—that she mattered. She touched Tzuyu’s cheek with her now free hand, but once again the taller one did not flinch. She did seem surprised, but did not do anything about it.
Tzuyu closed her eyes the moment Miss Im’s lips met hers. For a split second her mind went blank. When she realized the realness of it all, that was when the thoughts came flooding, and one of them was: what the beep is happening?