06|She is a Ghost

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My life's been a rollercoaster since birth, a glorious, terrifying, occasionally vomit-inducing one. Surprises are like rogue pigeons in the city – inevitable, and guaranteed to leave a mess sometimes. But hey, at least they keep things interesting.

Speaking of interesting, my phone buzzed for the umpteenth time since I walked in the door. It was Jennie, the human equivalent of a flashing neon sign

With a sigh that could draft a legal disclaimer, I answered the video call. "Jennie," I drawled, "There's a fine line between persistence and stalking, and you, my friend, are doing the Macarena all over it."

"Oh, spare me the dramatics, Aer," Jennie's voice, dripping with enough sarcasm to curdle milk, filled my ear. "My entire career is built on exploiting loopholes in harassment laws. Consider this a free consultation."

Seriously, how does this woman sleep at night?

I would have sued her long ago if she wasn't so good at making people wet themselves with fear

A devilish glint appears in her eyes. "Because darling, I'm the best Lawyer in Korea for a reason." she purrs, flipping her hair with the grace of a telenovela villain, "I'm that good. They can't touch me. Besides, have you seen the competition? They make me look like Mother Teresa."

Okay, that's a low blow, even for Jennie. But hey, gotta give it to her, the woman has confidence. Narcissistic confidence, maybe, but confidence nonetheless.

"The best lawyer in Korea, huh?" I deadpan. "Says who?"

She throws her head back and laughs, that "I'm-so-much-better-than-you" kind of laugh. "Says Jennie 'Objection Sustained' Kim, counselor extraordinaire! The legal system practically worships the ground I walk on."

"More like they're tripping over themselves to get a restraining order," I mutter under my breath.

"What was that?" she asks, a playful glint in her eye.

"Nothing," I smiled. "Just congratulating the government on finally making a good decision... for once."

Seriously, I've seen pigeons with less self-esteem than her. If she weren't so good at her job, I'd swear she practiced acceptance speeches in the mirror every morning.

"Anyways, how was the day? Did you make any friends?" Jennie asked, batting her eyelashes at the camera like a beauty pageant contestant auditioning for a blink sponsorship.

This girl's narcissism is reaching critical levels

"The day was...horrible thanks to your stellar fashion advice," I deadpanned, giving her my best 'betrayed by bestie' look.

"You could have warned me!" I shrieked, dramatically flinging myself onto the couch. "This is a fashion faux pas that would make even pigeons weep! You, Jennie, are the Cruella de Vil of this sartorial nightmare!"

Jennie's jaw dropped, forming a perfect "O" that would make a goldfish jealous. She pointed at me, her perfectly manicured finger trembling like a chihuahua facing a Doberman. "Hold on a second," she squeaked, her voice reaching an octave previously reserved for helium-filled birthday balloons. "Are you accusing me, Jennie, the woman who practically invented the concept of flawless fashion advice, of...doing nothing? Because for once in life I did nothing to you"

"That's where the blame lies, oh fashion fairy godmother who mysteriously forgot her magic wand!" I declared, throwing my arms open wide like a rejected Shakespearean actress. "You, with your insider knowledge of this palace of posh, condemned me to a day of oversized hoodie judgment!"

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