Downfall || Seongjoong

- seventy-two -

Wooyoung || ???

After the argument with San, I felt like my world had collapsed. Those words, sharp and unforgiving, echoed in my mind constantly. For the two weeks I stayed at Yeonjun's, I began to believe that maybe San was right—that I was nothing more than a mere whore to people. The thought gnawed at me, eroding my self-worth with each passing day.

I tried to pull myself together, to find a job and regain some semblance of normalcy. I applied everywhere—places where my degree should have been a ticket to employment. But nothing worked. I faced rejection after rejection. The universe seemed to be pushing me further into the abyss, no matter how desperately I tried to climb out.

I even tried to find work at a café or restaurant, thinking maybe something simple would help me get back on my feet. But each time, I was met with polite refusals or condescending looks. I even offered to babysit, hoping someone would see past my past and give me a chance. But every option I pursued turned out to be a dead end.

Life with Yeonjun was bearable but far from ideal. He wasn't abusive, but he wasn't particularly friendly either. We shared a few breakfasts together, sitting in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Those were the only times we saw each other. Yeonjun was always off on trips with his friends or busy working. Our interactions were minimal, and the loneliness weighed heavily on me.

Every morning, I'd wake up early, slipping out of the small guest room Yeonjun had let me use. I'd sit at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the untouched coffee in front of me, wondering how my life had come to this. I'd hear Yeonjun's footsteps as he got ready for his day, his presence a distant reminder that I was a guest in someone else's life.

"Good morning," I'd say, my voice barely audible.

"Morning," Yeonjun would reply, his tone neutral, almost detached. He'd grab his coffee and breakfast, his focus already on the day ahead.

We'd eat in silence, the only sound the clinking of cutlery and the occasional rustle of a newspaper. I'd force myself to eat, even though my appetite had all but disappeared. After breakfast, Yeonjun would leave, and I'd be alone again, left to battle my thoughts and the overwhelming sense of failure.

During the day, I'd scour job listings, send out resumes, and wait for replies that never came. The rejections piled up, each one a reminder of my worthlessness. The few times I ventured out to apply in person, I faced the same dismissive looks, the same closed doors. It was as if the universe was conspiring against me, ensuring I remained trapped in this limbo.

Nights were the hardest. The silence of Yeonjun's apartment was deafening, amplifying my thoughts and insecurities. I'd lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the argument with San over and over in my mind. His words cut deep, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was right. That I was nothing more than a burden, a mistake.

In those two weeks, I lost more than just a job or a place to stay. I lost myself. The person I used to be felt like a distant memory, replaced by someone I barely recognized. And as each day passed, I felt myself slipping further into despair, unsure if I'd ever find my way ba

Other than the cold silence and rejection letters, the world outside Yeonjun's apartment was equally cruel. Whenever I ventured out to buy groceries or take a walk, I felt like I was under constant scrutiny. Men and women alike would hit on me, their intentions painfully clear.

I remember one day, I was just trying to pick up some essentials at the grocery store. A woman approached me, her eyes scanning me up and down. "Hey there," she said, flashing a sultry smile. "You look like you could use some company. Want to come to my place later?"