SM Ch 2

The more I read down, the more certain I became that this was a story that had nothing to do with me. Not only did the required cut-off threshold seem high, but standard practice usually required completing three years at the company before one could even apply for a project. Judging by the three-month timeframe, the progress would be fast-paced, and they would need personnel who could step in and pull the weight of one or two people at full speed. No matter which way I looked at it, I was not the right fit.

Nevertheless, having scrolled all the way down to the end, I almost knocked my forehead against the screen.

Project Manager (PM): Consulting Team 2, Team Leader Han Juwon

The cursor covered his name of its own accord. I moved the cursor out of the way into the corner of the screen, opened my eyes wide, and repeatedly read the dry Gulim-font text several times.

And only then did something hot suddenly well up from inside my stomach, which had felt completely hollow all day long. I felt dizzy, as if the blood in my whole body were rushing rapidly. A brief ringing sound echoed in my ears, and for no reason at all, tears felt as if they might burst forth.

I gripped the mouse with my numbed fingertips. Heading into the resignation letter file that was still open, I pressed and held down the backspace key. The cursor devoured the characters as swiftly as a snake. Over the cleanly emptied page, I pasted the application form from the notice board. Click, click, I brought the cursor to a stop at every blank space without hesitation.

Pasting the listed email address into the email program, attaching the application form, and sending it took less than thirty minutes. Having clicked the send button, I shifted my chair back a little and sat down. The insides of my eyes stung and felt dry as if burning up.

When I logged back into the intranet to double-check the email address, the view count of the announcement post I saw was still 1.

I pulled my legs up onto the chair and curled up. Burying my cheek above my knees, I closed my eyes. Sleep, which I had been unable to get properly for days, pressed down heavily on my eyelids. Outside the window, the sleet was thickening.

∞ ∞ ∞

January 2nd felt even more like a Monday than usual. Everyone I encountered starting from the lobby had a dark, ghastly face, unable to wash away the traces of the year-end exhaustion. Getting off on the 3rd floor, the tail end of a conversation between two female employees who had boarded on the 2nd floor followed behind my back. Before the door closed, words like ‘project’ and ‘apply’ were clearly audible.

It was the same upon arriving at the department. My senior co-worker was talking to Supervisor Gang, who sat on the opposite side of the partition. As I entered, our eyes met briefly over the partition. I gave a light nod and sat in my seat, listening to the interrupted conversation resume once more.

“There was someone among the sunbaes who did it.”

“Ah, is that really how it is?”

“Yeah. Back then, he wept uncontrollably while drinking with me.”

“Still… I’d like to try joining Team Leader Han’s TF at least once.”

I raised my eyes while turning on the computer. The partition hummed. Mixed with the noise from the adjacent department, the sound was partially muffled. A chuckle escaped from my senior co-worker.

“You think working with Team Leader Han sounds nice, don’t you? I guarantee you’ll regret it. And even if you submit an application, he won’t pick you.”

“Wow, that’s harsh.”

“Even though that sunbae was an elite who got promoted rapidly, he took a whole heap of harsh criticism from Team Leader Han for being slow at work. Why else would he have cried in front of me?”

“Still, just in case, I’m going to apply anyway…”

“There’s already an intended candidate for all of that. Hey, and besides, our team’s future personnel…”

And then his voice dropped significantly. No doubt it was about me. The desire to listen further vanished, so I stood up. I had planned to drop by the pantry or somewhere similar, but I had to stop before walking even a few steps. At the corner leading to the hallway, the department head was coming in from the other side.

With no way to avoid him, I just stood in place until he drew near. His scowling expression upon seeing me from afar was blatantly explicit, as if he no longer felt the need to hide it. The assistant manager from the adjacent department who followed behind him also looked away with a stiff expression.

Stepping aside to the edge, I silently bowed my head. I could see legs passing by. I could also hear the footsteps of my senior co-worker, who stopped chatting and scurried back to his seat.

“You’ve arrived, Department Head.”

“Department Head, Happy New Year!”

“Yes, let’s work hard this year too.”

Stopping beside my partition, the department head patted my senior co-worker on the shoulder and turned his head toward me.

“Mr. Lee Seodan, come see me for a moment before you start work.”

I blackened the computer screen. Looking briefly at the back of the department head as he entered the hallway leading to the conference room without waiting for me, I hesitated for a moment. If I was going to hand in a resignation letter, now was the chance. Just then, my senior co-worker let out a hush sound to draw my attention. When I looked over, he lowered his voice and admonished me gently.

“Please watch your mouth in there, I beg you.”

“…Yes.”

“If only for my sake. Don’t talk back so sharply like last time… Having spent time teaching you, Mr. Lee Seodan, I just don’t want to see things go completely wrong.”

He probably wasn’t a bad person. His desire to avoid becoming a thorn in the department head’s side alongside me was blatantly obvious, but his eyes were not entirely devoid of a handful of concern. Having nothing particular to say, I quietly let out a breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry to me.”

Just then, Supervisor Gang poked his head out over the partition. Flicking his hand to catch my attention, he spoke softly.

“Mr. Lee Seodan.”

“Yes.”

“…I’m sorry.”

I stared blankly down at Supervisor Gang’s troubled and ambiguous expression. Asking what the apology was for would be nothing more than spite at this point.

“No, it’s alright. Thank you for everything until now.”

Leaving the department behind, my back felt quiet. I could feel every pair of eyes beneath lowered eyelids chasing after me.

The first door of the small conference room was open.

I stopped at the threshold. I knocked lightly on the door a couple of times. The department head, standing with his back turned, did not turn around to look at me. I stepped inside and quietly closed the door. I stood beside the central table and waited. Whirling his head around, the department head’s expression clearly showed he wanted to finish this conversation even faster than I did.

“Go to Sales.”

He blurted it out point-blank, cutting me off before I could even open my mouth.

“I’ve already talked with the department head over there. If you don’t like that, go down to Daegu. Even that is showing you a lot of leniency.”

“Department Head.”

“Decide by tomorrow.”

To me, who was trying to speak, the department head gave a short shake of his head and left the conference room. It was a gesture as if brushing off a clinging dog. Staring blankly at his disappearing back, I leaned back and sat on the edge of the table. I had nothing to say anyway, but feeling this hollow after receiving advice to watch my mouth felt utterly futile. If I had prepared anything to say, it would have felt unfair.

Upon returning to my seat, the team members who had arrived were engrossed in their respective screens. It was a desperate act of ignoring by people trying to stay away from misfortune. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, but my body felt heavy as I sat down. I desperately wanted to go home. It felt like if I stood up and walked out, no one would hold me back. Would there even be any work left for me, who would have to pack up my desk within a week at most?

Laughter got stuck in my throat, unable to rise any further. Swiping the mouse casually, I brought up the inbox at the bottom of the screen. My plan was to clear out any piled-up emails and, if worst came to worst, take a day off and go home.

The list of emails received over the weekend was long. As I scrolled down and classified their types in my mind, the mouse came to a abrupt stop.

Subject: Individual Interview for TF Applicants

Sender: Han Juwon jw.han24@raewon.kr

My heart dropped from a high place. Looking back on it after going home, it had seemed ridiculous even to myself, so how absurd must it have been from the perspective of the person receiving the application?

Taking my hand off the mouse, I sat back, then casually read three or four other emails. Even reading them repeatedly, the contents did not enter my head properly. I minimized the email program and brought it up again. Looking down after scrolling, the email had not disappeared and was still clearly displayed in bold text.

Taking a deep breath, I firmly clicked on the subject line. Without making the tension worthwhile, the email was brief. It was so brief that it felt indifferent.

Interview Date & Time: January 2nd, 3:10 PM

Interview Location: 4th Floor, Small Conference Room 3

Please reply upon confirmation.

January 2nd was today. Having pressed down too hard, my palms hurt where my fingernails dug in.

Confirmed. I will see you today.

Writing just that short reply took ten minutes. In less than a minute, a ‘Read’ status appeared in the read-receipt column, but no reply came back.