Chapter Text
Jiyeong leaned back on the chair in an internet cafe, surrounded by either broke college kids or the inebriating stench of the alcoholics lingering. Her thumb flicked over the phone screen, thinking maybe if she dreamed hard enough, the numbers would change.
₩1,500,000,000
That was what Jiyeong had inherited from the jackass who was supposed to be her father. Even in death, he still haunted her, taking her world, then leaving her with a fat bill in her hands for her to deal with. She counted the digits again just to make sure. One, five, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero. Still there. ₩1,500,000,000 in debt.
She had to get serious. Drag herself to a library, pick up a book about finance or whatever teaches you how to be an adult, since she was basically forced to skip that stage, all to not feel so illiterate. But the mere idea of doing any “adulting” right now sounded like actual torture.
…but she needed to get somewhere.
She opened her notes app, typing out steps that were way easier said than done.
- Find a place to live. Not sure anyone would want her as a tenant with such a crime tarnished on her record.
- Bankruptcy lawyer. No clue how to do that, but she was gonna need it.
- Get a job. With her criminal record, this also seemed impossible. Unlikely “patricide” would look too good for her applying literally anywhere.
For a moment, Jiyeong realized that maybe none of this was even necessary to worry about. Even if she accomplished everything, what would come next? She couldn’t think of any family she had left, and definitely no friends. Not that she recalled ever having many. Being labeled “church princess” throughout school led her peers to the impression that she was spoiled and egotistical, and sometimes caused pointless bullying. It was…inconvenient. She wondered what her classmates thought of her when they had learned of her crime 10 years ago. She wondered if they still remembered that news now.
Yet something made her steer away from the idea of simply jumping off a bridge. Maybe spite. Pure, raging, burning spite to her father, who was hopefully burning in the hell he talked so much about. Maybe it was the animal itch to keep going, keep surviving, even if it wasn’t actually living. Maybe the encouragement that she at least had a start with her mother's will, an impressive ₩50,000,000 she managed to hide from her degenerate husband. Whatever it was, it managed to get her off her ass and trot her way to a library, picking up a book about finance.
And then of course promptly passing out on it.
***
Three months passed in a blur of cheap meals, public bathhouses, and failed job interviews. “Man, I wonder why,” she’d whisper sarcastically when walking out every time. Jiyeong was just about ready to resort to making a bench her new mailing address when a landlord finally called her back. It felt too good to be true. She had lived through the nightmare cycle: cheap apartments demanding impossible deposits and landlords who’d rather let a unit rot than hand the keys to someone with a stain on their record. But this tiny old guy didn’t ask for a key money deposit, nor did he ask for proof of income. Just first month’s rent and a promise she wouldn’t trash the place. He didn’t even mention her record, which he most definitely saw. Jiyeong half expected him to be running some kind of scam, but she also knew better than to question open doors when life had spent years locking every single one.
“It’s an old building,” he warned as he led her to the place, hands clasped behind his back. She could tell it was definitely older than her, but the brick structure had a serene, almost elegant look to it. With large multiple windows on the seven-story building, she enjoyed the western vibe it gave. Her landlord continued to talk as they walked up the creaky staircase to the third floor. He suggested the elevator, but Jiyeong felt she should experience the “naturalness” first. She noticed the faint smell of soju and kimchi stemming from him. “Your neighbors are audible, the heat works when it wants, and the walls are thin, but it’s sturdy enough,” he confessed. “Plus, it’s quite cheap.”
Cheap was all Jiyeong needed to hear. And compared to cellmates who ranged from stealing clothes to drowning their kids, her neighbors could do whatever the hell they pleased. As long as they didn’t come to her confessing their crimes of arson or whatever bs she didn’t ask for, she was just dandy.
“That’s okay. Thank you, sajangnim.”
They walked down the hall to Ji’s future home: Number 307.
At least that was the illusion for 10 seconds.
When the old man opened the door, the first thing she saw was the silhouette of a tall, thin woman with short, dark hair in front of a window in the middle of the room. The old man rubbed the back of his head, but led her in anyway.
“Aw, looks like someone beat us to it. Mind if I show this young lady around, too?”
A taller man dressed in a fancy suit, compared to the short man's simple long coat, who Jiyeong assumed was the other woman’s landlord, turned and approached the old man.
“Sorry, but this customer has pretty well decided on this place.”
The tall woman looked back, making eye contact with Ji. She was wearing a dark green windbreaker and jeans, eyes sharp with freckles splattering her face.
She was…pretty. Really pretty. Like, model pretty. Her aura gave the essence of natural intimidation, but intimidation didn’t work on Jiyeong. Though she still felt the need to speak.
“…well, this is kind of embarrassing.”
The woman’s landlord looked back at her. “What’s your decision, Miss Kang? Will you be renting it?
“…I’m still thinking.”
“If you haven’t made a decision yet, Miss, would you mind if I showed around—“
But by the time he turned to point out Jiyeong, she was already in the other room, taking a look for herself. The rooms were spacious, much bigger than she anticipated. The bathroom was simple, and the kitchen was the perfect size. The doors were a bit scuffed, and she could tell there was some peeling paint at the edges, and the kitchen tiles were fading, but it was perfectly homey. She went back to the old man.
“I’ll take it.”
“Hey—you can’t just do that!” The woman and the other landlord both yelled perfectly in sync.
Her own landlord spoke up, much calmer than both of them. “But you seemed to be having trouble making up your mind.”
“No, I decided I want to take it.”
“Wait—!”
But before she could protest, the woman snatched the papers from Mr. Fancy and walked to the table, pen in hand. Ji was barely thinking when she grabbed the girl's wrist, preventing her from writing.
“Hold on, please—“
“I won’t wait, I just want to hurry up and get the cheapest place available,” The woman retaliated, trying to pull her wrist back. She was strong, but Jiyeong didn’t back down.
“If anywhere will work, just go somewhere else, I really need this place!”
She never thought she’d find herself begging a stranger for anything, but desperation rules.
“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to find something?!”
“Your problems are not mine, keep looking.”
“Come on, can’t we at least play rock, paper, scissors??”
“I’m not playing rock, paper, scissors for an apartment!”
They started tussling for the pen, bickering like little kids for who gets to play with the favorite toy. By this point, Jiyeong was half-sure this woman could throw her against the wall with how much she was struggling against her, but she’d always had a strong grip. She vaguely wondered why no one was intervening, but kept pulling anyway.
“Girls, girls, calm down! I-I have a suggestion!”
They both stopped, not loosening their grip on the pen, but at least looked at the guy. What could this carefree man possibly propose?
“I know you two probably aren’t in the best situations, and getting this definitely means a lot…
…why not flat-share?”
Jiyeong felt the judgmental stare emanating from the female skyscraper, but she was too focused on making sure she didn’t slip the pen through her fingers to focus on it.
“Rooming with someone can be very nice. There’s a dining table between the opposite rooms, enough to give you both privacy. But it’s also a great way to make a new friend!”
“Absolutely not, I won’t live with…someone like her.”
The idea of living with somebody at all, especially someone this bothersome, sounded miserable to Saebyeok. This girl actually just fought her for a pen and suggested playing a game for it; there was no way she was safe to live with.
“Jeez, you’re so cold…” The shorter girl whined. Saebyeok was sure someone this immature couldn’t be older than 23.
“And additionally…you’d both only be paying half the rent.”
There it was.
The offer was tempting as hell. 700,000 is already cheap, but split? Saebyeok tried to do the math in her head on just how much she could put aside from that to get her mom here before the annoying girl started unnecessarily talking again.
“₩350,000…that’s cheap!!”
No shit. But that didn’t manage to convince her right away. She was a complete stranger; she could be a murderer! The second Saebyeok falls asleep, the next thing she might know, she’s strapped down in the girls' organ harvesting van.
…but…350,000 a month…
Saebyeok looked back down at the girl, eyes pleading with her to say yes.
…She looked harmless. But maybe that was how she lured her victims in.
…350,000…
She looked back at her landlord, who was giving the same suspicious glare, as if asking if this was what she really wanted. It wasn’t, but…money…
“…fine.”
“Perfect!” The old man chirped.
“Ugh, this means we’ll have to split the fees, too…” her landlord muttered back.
“Shush.”
“Oh, thank you so much!”
“You aren’t going to be nosy and come into my room right…?” The taller woman was most definitely suspicious. Not that Jiyeong could blame her, the idea of living with a total stranger was starting to hit her, too. However, she couldn’t think of a motive that this pretty girl would have to kill her. And this was literally her only chance at housing.
“Why would I do that?”
“If privacy is an issue, I can have locks on your bedroom doors installed,” her landlord suggested.
“How soon?” Asked the woman, way too quickly. A completely normal request, yet it still felt like it was supposed to be an insult towards Jiyeong.
“If I order them now, they’ll be there by tomorrow morning!”
“Perfect! I’ll move in tomorrow afternoon! What about you, uulnyang?”
She watched the girl scowl at the nickname but was seemingly too tired to yell at her for it.
“…I will, too.”
“Then starting tomorrow, we’re roommates!”
Smiling, she held out her hand, waiting for Miss Broody to take it. She didn’t.
“Come on, we’re gonna be living together.”
“…”
Hesitantly, she shook her hand, then immediately pulled away.
Well, Ji thought, watching her future roommate wipe her hand on her pants like she’d just touched a rat, failing to be discreet. Two strangers and one apartment, what could possibly go wrong…?