Chapter 2 — I Know Nothing — Part 1 (2)

Lately, Miss Park's face had grown sallow and puffy, as if her body were suffering some serious ailment. Even if she wasn't blessed with a beautiful face, showing up to work looking so disheveled—so visibly worn—wasn't just disrespectful to the workplace; it made everyone around her uncomfortable. Didn't she realize that?

“Sir, I'd like to take a week off starting tomorrow.”

Miss Park stood before me, handing over a leave application in a soft, almost submissive voice. She'd come to my desk despite clearly sensing my irritation.

“You sick or something?”

The words came out abruptly, half-annoyed.

“I'm seven months pregnant.”

“Who's the father?”

“There is someone.”

“So that's why you've looked so drained lately?”

“Yes.”

Without waiting for approval, she lowered her head and began climbing the stairs to the second floor.

“Miss Kim, when did Miss Park start looking like that?”

“She's heartbroken, I think.”

“Why?”

“The man who got her pregnant is pretending he doesn't know a thing. Because of that, she missed the window for an abortion.”

“What kind of irresponsible bastard is he?”

“He's a guy from one of our client companies. He's running away, saying there's no way he can admit to it.”

“But this isn't something you run from!”

“They say she gave herself up too easily. He called her a slut—said no one would believe a woman who sleeps around suddenly claims a baby is his. Told her to get lost.”

“Was Miss Park really that loose?”

“She's not exactly pretty, you know. Maybe he thought, What the hell, let's try it once for fun? Now she's chasing him down, demanding he take responsibility for one night? That's what he says—he's playing dumb.”

“Damn…”

I felt a pang of pity for Park.

Miss Park was a genuinely kind person, but her looks were plain. If someone didn't take the time to understand her inner world, they wouldn't bother speaking to her at all. She handled every task inside and outside the office with meticulous care—I knew she was a person of depth. But when it came to marriage, people judged by appearances. At that point, she must have struggled hard.

True, in today's world where plastic surgery was so advanced, anyone determined enough could reshape their entire look. There were countless chances to become beautiful. But in Miss Park's case, the repairs needed were so extensive it was hard to even estimate. For someone whose face showed such neglect, marriage—let alone blind dates or matchmaking meetings—seemed impossible. If someone had whispered, Let's date, she might have been tempted.

Men these days treated women not as people, but merely as holes to stick their dicks into. Maybe that's why, seeing Miss Park's plainness, one of those bastards wondered if she might actually be a virgin—rarer than a national treasure—and jokingly flirted with her. And she, unaware of his true intentions, let a child grow steadily in her womb. How bitter and painful her heart must feel now.

“When did you find out about this, Miss Kim?”

“From the beginning. She didn't even realize it was shameful—she was bragging about it. The women's restroom was buzzing. 'My sister's getting married soon,' she kept saying.”

“You know who the father is?”

“A clerk from the accounting department at that big company across the street.”

“Oh, that good-looking guy?”

“That's him. If Miss Park hadn't fallen for him, I might've ended up with him too.”

“Why? Were you worried you'd never get married?”

“No… it's just, the way he looks at you—it sends a chill through your chest.”

“What about my eyes?”

I narrowed my eyes slightly, teasingly, staring at Miss Kim.

“Ugh, your eyes are like codfish eyes. Gross…”

Miss Kim recoiled backward as if disgusted.

“Don't you have plenty of guys chasing after you, Miss Kim?”

“Yeah, there are a few. But they don't even care whether I'm a virgin or not.”

“Why not?”

“What virgin exists these days? As long as a girl's face is decent, she can do whatever she wants.”

“You're different, right?”

“It's killing me. Miss Park, who isn't pretty, gets taken advantage of because people assume she's inexperienced. But me? I'm still a virgin, yet the guys who approach me only want to play games. None of them are serious.”

“Try practicing a more innocent expression. The bachelors will get scared off, and you'll be crossed off the marriage list.”

“And you, sir—when you got married, did you pick someone just because her face was pretty?”

“Hmm… it was so long ago, I don't even remember.”

“I'm already twenty-six. Shouldn't I have at least one serious boyfriend by now?”

“He'll show up soon. No need to rush.”

“Ugh, Miss Park couldn't make it work—but why can't even that kind of thing happen to me? It's driving me crazy.”

“Calm down. Try being gentle, demure. Practice looking pure with your expressions…”

“Hmph. If men can't recognize real quality, then fine—I'll live alone.”

Women were incomprehensible. One carried a child from a man refusing responsibility, drowning in sorrow. Another, perfectly pretty, seethed with jealousy because she was ignored. Miss Park returned, changed into outdoor clothes, descending the stairs again. The sight of her tightly bound lower belly—swollen beyond concealment—was unbearably pitiful.

“Sir, sorry. I'll come back after thinking for a week.”

“Alright. Take care of yourself.”

As soon as Miss Park left, Miss Kim turned and hurried over to my desk, chattering eagerly. I grew suspicious—what now?—but pretended to search for other tasks, avoiding eye contact.

“Sir, what should happen to my senior?”

“What about her?”

“…they say a week will fix things. Is that even possible?”

“You're curious?”

“No… I'm just worried. What if she just recklessly burns through her vacation time without a plan?”

“You wouldn't understand—you're not the one involved. How humiliating do you think it feels? How much pain do you think she's in?”

“Why would she be crying blood?”

“Imagine giving birth to and raising a child with no father. Could you really stay indifferent, Miss Kim?”

“Why are you getting so worked up?”

“You're acting like it's nothing, like it's someone else's problem. That's why.”

“Acting like it's nothing?”

Miss Kim flushed red, then burst into tears and ran out.

“Hey, Chief. What did you do to that girl? Why is she sobbing and making a scene?”

Manager Park from upstairs called, scolding me over the phone.

“What? Who's crying?”

I asked, genuinely confused.

“Miss Kim just came upstairs, bawling her eyes out, complaining about how unfair you are!”

“What a joke. Nothing happened.”

I couldn't help but laugh.

“Really? Nothing at all?”

Manager Park asked again, concerned.

“Yeah, seriously. I scolded her a bit for acting flippant about Miss Park's situation, but that's it.”

“Got it. Just remember—you can't go around making women cry so easily.”

Only after confirming it wasn't serious did Manager Park finally hang up. The sun had dipped behind the hills.

Employees paired off, whispering about post-work drinking sessions, then gradually disappeared until only empty desks remained. Another ordinary day was ending. Soon, I'd board the subway and sink into the warm embrace of home. The security guard began urging me to leave, the last one out.

The sky hung low, winter's chill still suppressing any hint of spring. The cold air made me pull my collar higher. Though the wind cut sharply through the streets, couples walked arm-in-arm, filling the evening commute with warmth. On a night like this, maybe I shouldn't rush straight to the subway. A hot bowl of odeng stew with a shot of soju sounded perfect.

I smirked, imagining those coworkers now gathered in some cozy bar, using me as tonight's appetizer—chewing me up with gossip.

Office life had its small pleasures. There was a time when I, too, found comfort in tearing apart my boss over drinks. I stepped toward the subway gate when my phone rang.

“Who could that be? No one should be calling me now…”

Reluctant to answer an unknown number, I shoved the phone back into my pocket, switching it to vibrate.

I bought a ticket and was just passing through the turnstile when the vibration jolted through my whole body. Irritated, I pulled it out—same number as before. Unknown, but calling again. Fine. I answered.

“Sir, it's me. Miss Kim.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“You were going to make me angry and just leave without apologizing?”

“Apologize? For what?”

“For saying I was flippant.”

“Oh… sorry about that. My bad.”

“That's it? Just words?”

“What else do you want?”

“Where are you now?”

“I just passed through the subway gate.”

“I'm at Exit 3. I called because I think I need a drink to clear my head—otherwise I won't sleep tonight.”

“Really? Was what I said really that painful?”

“The one who speaks doesn't know, but the one who hears feels it like a knife, right? You can't possibly not understand that.”

“Alright… if it hurt that much, let's have a drink and clear the air.”

I turned and walked back toward Exit 3, where Miss Kim was waiting.