AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Every sound, the honk of a taxi horn, the food vendors rolling their carts, the trash trucks grabbing bags of garbage left out on the curbs, people yelling and cursing at each other, construction and scaffolding on every block, each has its own moment in the symphony but play together to create the masterpiece titled “City.”
I’m mesmerized.
“Geezus fucking ka-rist, whattarya new,” someone screams at me with barely a second glance.
I drag my luggage off to the side and let the oncoming foot traffic have their own lane on this narrow sidewalk. “Sorry,” I say to the back of the sea of heads walking in my same direction but three times faster than I am. Only one apology the entire walk to work so far. That’s way below my usual. I’ll be a New Yorker sooner than I expected.
By the time I reach the building that houses Haneul Corporation, I am slightly frazzled, but, surprisingly, incredibly energized. Is this what city living does to you?
I stop to look up and see how high the building goes. From where I stand on the street, I can barely even make out the top of the skyscraper. “Close your mouth, Jessica. You’re not a fly catcher,” my mom would say to me whenever I acted like I was too new, in awe of something that showed how inexperienced or uncultured I was. Even though we don’t come from money, how we behave and carry ourselves has always been a priority in my Korean household.
Act like you’re supposed to be here, I tell myself. I pull my shoulders back, lift my chin, and walk through the doors.
“Whoa,” I say aloud, the moment I enter the lobby. So much for not being a noob.
It’s fantastic, this lobby, a completely open space with floor-to-Heaven windows. And the way the sun’s rays pierce through all the glass causing a light show effect is incredible. I could just stay here all day and admire all the big and little architectural choices made when designing this building.
But I have a job to get to.
I make a mental note to add ten more minutes to my morning buffer and maybe sit and enjoy a coffee in the lobby tomorrow, taking in the contrasts of light and dark, the hard and soft edges of the way the entryway is designed. I make an addendum note to my mental note that I don’t know where I’ll be walking from tomorrow so I’ll need to add ten more minutes to my ten more minutes to my morning buffer. Listen, it all makes sense in my head.
I walk up to the information desk and smile as I approach the man in the suit with an earpiece.
“Can I help you?” he asks me.
“I’m here for my first day at Haneul Corporation,” I say, trying to ooze confidence. I want to tell him about how the walk to work was longer than I expected and how walking an avenue block is twice as long as a street block and how this suitcase, despite having wheels, doesn’t seem to be made for rolling at all and how it’s hot in sunlight but going down certain blocks where the buildings block the sun and actually cause a bit of a wind tunnel makes it quite chilly and that I wish I’d worn a jacket but it would be a pain to take it on and off and on and off each block.
But I bite my tongue and hold that all back.
Yes, progress.
His sympathetic smile back at me makes it clear I’ve failed at my attempt to seem like I know what I’m doing. I mean, if I knew what I was doing, I wouldn’t be stopping to ask him for help, I guess. He knows I’m an imposter.
“First day. Good for you. Knock ’em dead. Name and ID please.”
“Yoo-Jin Lee,” I say, remembering that it seems most of my documents have been listed under my Korean name.
“Hmmm,” he says, his brows stitched as he looks at the screen. He glances up to me again and then back at his computer.
I wait patiently, though my heartbeat picks up wondering if he’ll tell me it’s all been a big mistake, I’m not in the system, and I need to fly back home to LA immediately.
“I guess this one must be you.” He inspects my ID one more time and nods. “Yes. Forty-third floor. Please look at this camera and we’ll make you a temporary access badge for today until you get your permanent one.”
I do as I’m told and wait as a very unflattering black-and-white picture of me prints up onto a sticker name badge. He points me in the direction of the entry to the elevators and some unseen scanner beeps letting me in.
I know I’m early, not as early as I hoped since I really misjudged the walk between the avenues, but where are the other interns? Didn’t anyone else in this group of Korean American overachievers have the idea to arrive a little earlier than asked?
I get off the elevator and am immediately greeted by a stunning young woman, hair and curtain bangs meticulously blown out, makeup perfect, wearing a navy suit, skirt hitting exactly at the spot where it’s still appropriate for work while being just short enough to be considered sexy.
“Lee Yoo-Jin?” she asks.
I bow in greeting. “Anyounghasaeyo,” I say. “You must be Mira Im. Nice to meet you.”
The woman smiles but shakes her head. “No, I’m Sunny Cho.”
My cheeks heat immediately at my mistake. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought I was meeting Mira Im. I apologize.”
“No, you’re not the one who needs to apologize. I will be getting you all set up and will be managing your needs during your time here this summer,” she says.
