EPISODE 3

October 30th, 4 PM.

The secretaries working under the vice-chairman were deep in conversation in their boss' brief absence.

“She has great credentials, and looks pretty similar to you, Miso. She seems alright.”

“It’s a pity, but she won't do.”

“Why not?”

“Her last name is King.”

The three secretaries seated around the round table looked perplexed at Miso's words.

“What do you mean by that?”

Miso scrutinized the name on the resume of this woman, who had a face resembling hers.

“Of course, it isn't likely to happen, but say she passes the final interview. That would make her ‘Secretary King.’”

“Ohh.”

It was a matter beyond their control.

They had to prevent Lee Youngjun, who considered himself the greatest human being on the planet, from having to call a secretary by such a name. Who knew, it might give him high blood pressure.

“This is last name discrimination, you know that?”

Assistant Manager Park was in charge of affairs inside the company. Her joke, delivered with a shake of the head, made everyone laugh.

“You're right. Let's hope she never finds out why she was culled from the initial review.”

Assistant Manager Park, who'd been quietly watching Miso smile, suddenly asked, “So Miso, why are you quitting?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, it’s so sudden...”

Miso seemed deep in thought as she looked at Assistant Manager Park, who looked quite sad. She soon smiled broadly and replied, “You know how when you've been running a race for a very long time without really thinking about the destination, there comes a moment when you want to stop and look around? That’s what this is, in a way. Besides...”

The three secretaries who worked under her (including Assistant Manager Park) focused their attention on Miso.

“There’s also a person I want to find, before it's too late.”

“Who do you mean?”

Miso cupped her chin in her hands, elbows on a table strewn with resumes, and mumbled with a faraway look in her eyes,

“I don't actually know if it's a person at all—maybe it's a memory. I'm not sure about even that. The memory is so old. It’s a memory that’s really fragmented, but I've never been able to forget it. It's the sort you'd die to remember fully, but never quite manage to...”

Don't cry, Miso. Don't cry, and keep your eyes shut. Grip my hand tight. I’ll make sure you get home. Let’s get out of here.

Miso had been staring off into nowhere in particular, deep in thought. She noticed everyone’s gaze on her and must have found it uncomfortable; she stuck her tongue out and added, “Doesn't everyone have at least one memory like that?”

The secretaries turned to each other, and all three shrugged or shook their heads.

“Nope.”

“Well, forget it, then! Back to work you go.”

Miso turned to the pile of resumes with an awkward smile, but raised her head when Assistant Manager Park asked another question.

“You know, I can't imagine what you must have been like when you first got the job. What was it like at first?”

“When I first got the job?”

“Yes. I’ll bet the vice-chairman was quite different, too, back then.”

“Well now, the vice-chairman, he was quite something. He was quite shocking, in fact...”

Those seated around the table turned bright, expectant gazes toward her.

“If we can compare the vice-chairman now to a diamond of the highest grade, back then he was like an uncut diamond. In many ways. Ohohoho!”

She was laughing brightly, but her fists were balled up tight and the veins on them were plainly visible.

***

“This sofa isn’t plushy in the slightest. Why don’t you get a new one?”

“Actually, I bought that one just recently.”

“Hm. Can't commend your tastes. You paid money for this?”

“Why, you impertinent little...”

Park Yoo-sik bristled at him, but Youngjun was right at home, lying sideways on the guest sofa of the president’s office.

Park Yoo-sik sighed. “Lee Youngjun. If you need rest, go rest in your room. Hm?”

“None of your business.”

“If you need to talk about something, come by my house for a drink after working hours. You know how it is for a paid worker. You're the owner of the corporation, for heaven's sake. I don’t get my job done properly, and I'm out of a job come next round of restructuring.”

Park Yoo-sik was one of the management specialists of Yooil Group, and a friend of Youngjun from his days studying abroad. With the exception of his tendency to tire extremely easily, he was quite Youngjun’s equal in genius. He was also a trustworthy business partner and the only person Youngjun could talk to freely about his concerns.

“Well, that owner is telling you to take a break.”

“I can't be taking a break right now. Can't you see I have a pile of approval requests to go through?”

“No, actually.”

“Open those damn eyes of yours, then.”

Youngjun opened his eyes, glanced toward the desk, and closed them again as if he was rather tired of it all. He mumbled sluggishly, “I wonder what the reason is.”

“What reason?”

“The reason she suddenly decided to quit.”

“Oh. You mean your secretary, Miso.”

“All that talk about her own life, out of the blue. It was the most preposterous thing.”

“Hm.”

Park Yoo-sik proceeded to take out a fistful of vitamins and other health supplements and imbibe them with some water. His terse response seemed pregnant with meaning, and Youngjun opened his eyes again to look at him.

“What do you mean by that? What's with that attitude of yours?”

“How long has she been working for you?”

“Nine years.”

Yoo-sik gazed out the window for a while. He mumbled, “It comes in threes, sixes, and nines.”

“What?”

“Ennui.”

“Ennui?”

Youngjun seemed quite interested in what he had to say, and Yoo-sik smirked.

“You know I married my ex-wife exactly a month after I met her, right?”

Yoo-sik had been studying in America when he fell fiercely in love with a girl his age who was majoring in modern dance. Their romance had been intense from the start. They married only a month after they met, and their continued loving relationship had been the talk of all their friends.

After they returned to Korea, however, although by all indications their relationship was as healthy as ever, with no child to intervene, they celebrated their tenth anniversary by filing for divorce. They shared some ox bone soup in front of the court and cleanly parted ways.

“You know what she told me on our third wedding anniversary? ‘How did I end up falling for a man like this?’ On our sixth anniversary, she told me, ‘Even the sound of your sneezing is annoying. The sight of you makes me want to slap you over the head. I wonder what’s wrong with me?’ Then, at the end, on our ninth anniversary...”

Yoo-sik paused and sighed. He continued in a serious tone,

“‘You should just stop breathing. You’re a waste of good oxygen.’ Those were her words.”

Youngjun grimaced.

“Mind if I laugh?”

“You find this funny?”

To be honest, he did, but he found he couldn't say so. Yoo-sik's tone was quite severe. In fact, he looked as if he would burst into tears if Youngjun laughed.

“Looking back, I think ennui visited us at each of those moments. We told ourselves we were busy, that it was too much work. Before long, our relationship was beyond repair. It's like having a slightly bruised apple in the fruit section of your fridge.”

“A bruised apple? What are you getting at?”

Yoo-sik had grabbed a ginseng pouch, even though he'd just taken a fistful of supplements. He looked pale as he sucked at the contents.

“There are lots of fruits in the fruit section, you know. You see a slightly bruised apple. You could just cut out the bruised parts, and the apple would be perfectly edible. But you can't be bothered to do it, and you don't like how it looks. So, you push it into the corner and eat the other healthy ones first. When you finally get around to eating that bruised apple, it's so rotten that the whole thing has to be thrown away.”

Yoo-sik had a heartbroken look on his face as he gazed at nothing in particular; he threw the empty ginseng pouch in the bin and added, “That ennui isn’t unique to married couples, you know. I notice it in the couples I know that break up, and the employees that quit working at our company. They’re mostly in their third, sixth, or ninth year.”

Youngjun got up and asked with a pretty serious expression,

“Is it ennui?”

“Might be. You and Miso—you’ve been working together almost 24/7. You’ve been together longer than most married couples. Of course you’ll experience ennui. I’d be willing to bet if it wasn't Miso, and you’d hired some other woman, she wouldn't have lasted three months.”

“But why? Everyone wants to meet me, to be close to me. Why only three months?”

Yoo-sik heaved a bitter sigh at Youngjun's extreme insolence and shook his head.

“Oh, alright. Of course, I hadn't taken that into account.”

Though he didn't seem to have understood any of the emotional implications, Youngjun must have still caught on to something with that brain of his; he got up off the sofa and tidied himself up as he said, “So the point is to talk about it, and try and find a solution.”

“Of course.”

“This conversation was quite helpful, dear doctor.”

“Don't call me that. Call me either Dr. Park, Master Park, or just use my name, plain and simple.”

“I’ll consider it, dear doctor.”

Youngjun stubbornly uttered his reply and proceeded to walk out of the room.

Yoo-sik watched Youngjun wonderingly as he left. Even to a fellow male, he was astoundingly handsome. He suddenly realized something and hurriedly called out to Youngjun.

“Hey, wait! Lee Youngjun!”

“What?”

Youngjun turned only his head, with his hand gripping the door handle. Yoo-sik smiled benevolently and asked, “No requests for advice?”

“Ohh.”

Youngjun elegantly ran his hand through his hair and coldly retorted, “Judging from the way you divorced your wife? I think not.”

“Oh...”

Yoo-sik stared at the door in stupefaction as it was banged shut. He suddenly gave a frustrated shriek, beat at his chest, and urgently began to drink something from his drawer. It was an herbal stabilizing solution.