GASLIGHTER // BBANGSAZ

24|believe the lies 🚭❗

She was everything I wanted but
Yet
Wasn't much of a necessity.
_

After settling into the small countryside town, Minji and Hanni’s lives seemed to take on a semblance of routine.

The town itself was quiet and unassuming, nestled between rolling green hills and dense patches of forest.

Their home was a simple, aging cottage on the outskirts, just far enough from the village center to avoid attention.

The roof sagged in places, and the paint was peeling off the walls, but it was a roof over their heads. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind, the occasional crow of a rooster, and the distant hum of motorbikes from the town’s market.

The town’s residents mostly kept to themselves.

No one asked too many questions, and that suited Minji and Hanni just fine. They had left their old lives far behind, and this was the perfect place to disappear. For a while, it seemed to work.

Minji never spoke of the past, and Hanni tried to suppress the memories that haunted her every time she closed her eyes.

Two months passed, and life in the village settled into a monotonous grind.

Hanni found work at a small, shabby café near the town center. The job paid little, but it was all she could find. She worked double shifts, waiting tables from dawn until late into the night.

Her feet ached from standing all day, and her hands were rough and cracked from washing dishes. But it was honest work, and it kept them afloat. Each day, she returned home to the dim, empty house, where Minji’s presence was more like a ghost that drifted in and out without explanation.

Minji, on the other hand, left the house early every morning, long before Hanni woke up, and returned late at night with a small stack of cash in her pocket.

She never said where she went, and Hanni had learned not to ask. But the question gnawed at her, keeping her awake at night. Minji’s evasiveness, her long absences—it all built up like a pressure in Hanni’s chest, but she bit her tongue. She was afraid of what Minji’s answers might reveal.

As the weeks dragged on, the distance between them grew. Hanni would leave the house before the sun had fully risen, work until her body screamed in exhaustion, and return to a cold, empty home.

When Minji did return, it was always late, her clothes rumpled and her face drawn. She would dump money on the table without a word, retreating to their shared bedroom as though nothing had happened.

One night, after an especially grueling shift at the café, Hanni came home to find Minji sitting at the kitchen table, counting a fresh pile of cash. The sight of Minji calmly sorting through bills while Hanni’s entire body ached with exhaustion sent a surge of frustration through her.

Hanni dropped her bag on the floor, the sound of it hitting the ground echoing in the small house. “Where do you keep getting that money, Minji?” she asked, her voice sharp with the edge of fatigue and pent-up anger.

Minji didn’t even look up from the pile of money. “I told you, I’m working. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s not an answer,” Hanni pressed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m killing myself at that café, working all day, and you just disappear for hours and come back with a pocket full of cash. What kind of work are you doing?”