It was the summer of my ninth birthday. I was forced to attend a concert they were performing at…

There I saw a boy my age performing on stage, as he played the violin so beautifully the melody could echo in my head for the next millennia. I gained a newfound passion for music that day, not as something my parents did for work, but as something truly beautiful. I wished to see that boy again, but that day never came…

Days passed by as I tried to become a musician, but tragedies kept striking me. Firstly, I didn’t inherit any musical talent in the violin. Secondly, my parents fell terminally ill. Lastly, I took on tons of debt to pay the medical fees, and now I’ll probably work for the rest of my life.

“Hey you missed a spot Sujin!”

That’s one of my coworkers, that has been here for only a month longer at this restaurant job. He acts like he’s my boss and constantly berates me for “bad work.”

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly; he’ll just continue being a bother if I try to argue back like 2 weeks ago.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just get to it!” he said, stomping back into the kitchen.

This was one of the many jobs I had to work now… A dingy old restaurant job, where at the end of each night I had to clean up, while getting insulted by the old guy who’s only worked here a month longer. I want to quit, but it’s one of the few jobs that pays better than the minimum wage.

My shift’s almost over, so I finish mopping the floors, and head into the back to grab my bags. He’s already left. I change out of my uniform and put on my winter jacket.

The weather today reminded me of when I’d gotten my first call back for an audition. I didn’t end up accepted, but it was progress. I just had to keep at it. Someday I’d make it as a musician, and then I’d whisk all my problems away!

Wait!

I just had a moment of inspiration, as the snowflakes fell onto my hair. I grabbed my phone and began jotting down inspiration words. “Cold, Legato, Silent Sounds, and a Frozen Picture.”

I’ll use this when I get home. After I get home, I’ll make sure to write down this song!

I wanted to call a taxi; since I lived a bit far from this job, but I’ll probably be behind on rent if I do.

I decided against the taxi idea. I chose instead to sprint home, as I hummed that tune I heard 15 years ago by that boy. I heard it was an original tune, so I never found it again. I still wonder what he does sometimes. Maybe he’s a rich CEO, some famous actor, or maybe some big producer.

I arrived home after a mix of running and walking for around an hour. Alright! Time to write this song! This’ll be the reason I—

I sat in my small wooden desk in the cramped semi-basement I rented. I paused and glanced at my shelves full of unfinished songs. I sometimes thought: Why do I even try? Why can I never quit music? Who am I trying to impress?

All I could do was sit in my chair and cry.

My mom wanted her daughter to be some master musician, but I never had talent. Sometimes I wish I could just quit music. Why can’t I? I know the answer, but I ask the same question every night. Like some sort of poorly written assignment that needed to meet a certain word-count.

It’s that boy.

He played that melody so beautifully I’ve chased it for the past 15 years. If I hadn’t heard that song…

It’s like my prison. A carrot on a stick for me to chase for the rest of eternity.

I wiped my tears away; I know that this won’t help me. All I can do is write. Try to write a melody as beautiful as the one I heard that day.

I started jotting down notes, and erasing. I wrote down an orchestral piece, but it always sounded off. Like a song that isn’t quite a song yet. I might be nitpicking too much, but even the songs I thought were good would be judged harshly. Maybe it made me overly cautious, but I needed this to be perfect!

I woke up to the sound of my alarm ringing and my neighbor banging against the wall telling me to “shut up!”I turned off my alarm and realized it was 8:00 AM, and exactly when I should be at my job at the “better” restaurant. Better as in they serve better food and are more expensive. Not that they treat me any better, but they pay well, which helps me get through customer complaints.

Luckily, I only slept past my alarm at this restaurant; it was within walking distance. I got up and got dressed, as I brushed away the sheets of music on my arms and face that I fell asleep writing. I jogged to work as quickly as I could, but my legs were still sore from last night, so I ended up 15 minutes late.

“How many times do I have to tell you Sujin? Plan Ahead! I know you have your whole life ahead of you, but have the decency to care for your fellow employees!” My manager, an older woman in her 40s sighed as she signaled me to get to work.

She, was sometimes mean to me, but today was not one of those days luckily. Though she’ll probably berate me during my break; she just wants me to get to work.

Today I was a waiter surprisingly. They usually kept me in the back, but it was the morning, so maybe they didn’t have any to wash.

When I saw the table, I knew that was not the case. It was the classic arranged dates rich people do. On one side was the classic rich girl with heavy makeup, and a new expensive dress that was custom ordered, or was just released.

The other side was a— This was different. Usually rich children have everything handed to them, so they never work out, and most their looks are genetic.

He had the features you’d expect of a handsome man: the chiseled jawline, the sharp eyes, and the chiseled physique, but there was something else.

His hands were covered in sleek leather gloves, but they were beautiful. If I had hands like those I could play any instrument flawlessly.

He had sleek black hair just like the boy I had m—

“Hey! You going to take our order?!” the girl said, annoyed.

“Oh, sorry I’ll g—” I went to turn to get our manager.

“No! You stay here, I want to complain about poor service!” she exclaimed for the entire store to hear.

This was my job. I was the complaint taker; customers like these usually just wanted someone to take their anger out on. I wasn’t even trained to be a waiter.

“It’s fine; it was a couple of seconds. ”The man spoke up.

“I don’t care! I want to s—”

The manager finally stepped in after she felt I’d been berated enough.

“Ma'am what seems to be the problem.” she asked calmly.

“This—” She couldn't even form a coherent sentence before…

“I’m very sorry about that. We’ll have her sent to the back for dish-washing,” my manager said, bowing directing me to the back.

“Good.” The girl couldn’t form a rebuttal and quickly quieted down.

I went behind the front desk in the area where all the old unwashed dishes lay. I had to clean a whole weeks worth of dishes today.

To pass the time, I decided to hum “his song.” I hummed the violin parts and pretended like the performance was still in front of me. He’d be there congratulating me, but he didn’t even know who I was…

I thought no one should be able to hear me, but I was wrong.

I heard someone through the door apologizing for the commotion. I didn’t want to hear what they were talking about, so I began humming louder. Then I began hearing sounds of someone trying to break into the dish room. I was confused as to who would want dishes. I looked over at him; it was the man with the beautiful hands. We made eye contact. There I swear I heard him mouth the word:

”Angel.”

That made my face turn beet red. Was he talking about me? Didn’t he have a date? Wait did he think my singing was pretty or did he think—

I mean he wasn’t bad looking, but I still had parents to take care of. Though he looked like he could take care of them… …I probably just misheard him.

A few moments later the manager entered. She held a small business card with a handwritten number on it.

“For you,” she said, sighing, handing it to me.

I quickly wiped my hands on my uniform to grab the card.

I read the card:

Lition Corporation

CEO: Li Woo-Jin

NEW! Singing Auditions!

He then had his number scribbled over-top the rest of the card, and then decided to write a small “Call Me” in the corner of the card.

Did he actually just think I was pretty?! I’m desperate but not that desperate! Who does he think he is?!

Plus the CEO of Lition isn’t Li Woo-Jin! That’s a fake card! He probably—

My shift passed by quickly with a few more minor complaints. I arrived home quickly and turned on the TV. For some reason I still hadn’t tossed out—

“NEW CEO OF LITION ANNOUNCED: Li Woo-Jin”

My immediate reaction was to jump back out of my fold-able chair. I looked at the card once again, and picked it up.

Did the CEO of the largest corporation in Korea just hit on me? Do I have his number?

The F—