Chasing Perfection || Lee Know

The missing ingredient

Hyejin unlocked the door to her luxurious apartment in the heart of Seoul, an indulgence she had bought only eight months ago. The spacious, high-rise unit with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the city skyline had seemed like a dream then—a symbol of her success, proof to herself and others that she could make it on her own.

But now, it was nothing more than a constant reminder of the mountain of debt she was drowning under. Monthly loan payments loomed over her like a dark shadow, and though she had managed to pay this month's share, the future felt like a giant question mark.

She dropped her trench coat and bag onto the sofa carelessly, not bothering to hang them up, and shuffled into the kitchen. She reached for a glass and filled it with water, chugging it down with a blank expression. No thoughts. Head empty.

But the reprieve was brief. As soon as the last drop slid down her throat, her mind began to wander.

What am I going to do now?

Her boss's smug expression as he fired her replayed in her head on an endless loop. The humiliation, the anger—it was all bubbling under the surface. The panic of losing her only source of income hit her like a freight train, sending her stomach into knots.

Her gaze shifted to the pristine countertop and the untouched appliances she'd once been so excited to buy. She had spent so much time curating the perfect life—a life that looked good on the outside but was now crumbling from within.

A soft chime broke her thoughts. She glanced at her phone. It was a notification from the forum she had replied to earlier.

"Thank you for you interest in this position, I can see that you have a reputation in your college and are qualified enough. Can you come in for an interview tomorrow at 10 AM? The address will follow shortly."

Hyejin bit her lip. An interview for a job she was surely qualified for—what could possibly go wrong? But then again, what choice did she have? Her pride screamed at her to aim higher, to wait for something more fitting for her previous role as a brand manager. Her reality reminded her that she didn't have the luxury of waiting.

She quickly typed back a reply: "I'll be there."

As she sent the message, she felt a twinge of discomfort. What kind of person hired a private chef through a forum? Would it be some eccentric millionaire or someone impossible to work for? She shook her head, telling herself it didn't matter. She needed this job, no matter how unconventional it seemed.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was her mother.

"Jiwon's fiancé has invited us to her family's villa for the engagement dinner next weekend. Don't forget to pick a nice dress."

Hyejin stared at the screen, the text mocking her. Her perfect older brother with his perfect engagement to his perfect fiancé. And then there was her, sitting in an apartment she couldn't afford, unemployed, and about to take a job cooking for God-knows-who.

She tossed the phone onto the counter, not bothering to reply. She couldn't deal with this tonight.

Instead, she walked to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Her thoughts spiraled as the weight of everything pressed down on her. The apartment, the debt, her career—or lack thereof—and the impossible expectations her family had always placed on her.

But amid the chaos in her mind, a single thought emerged.

Tomorrow. Just focus on tomorrow.

With a deep sigh, Hyejin closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, and she would have to be ready for them.

Lee Know's POV~

Lee Minho leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping his not so usual evening coffee, something which he only had when he was under too much of stress. The bitterness of the brew matched his mood. The silence in his house was deafening—a stark contrast to the chaos of his office hours.

His eyes drifted to the fridge. Bare shelves greeted him, a depressing sight. He wasn't someone who enjoyed grocery shopping or meal prep, and Sook-hee, his housekeeper, already had enough on her plate managing everything else.

He glanced toward the dining room, where Sook-hee was organizing a few files. Earlier that day, he had floated the idea of hiring a private chef, and her reaction still played in his mind—a mix of surprise and relief.

"I'm serious about this, Sook-hee," he had said. "You've been juggling too much. I don't want you overworked."

"But a private chef?" she had asked, hesitantly.

"Yes," he had replied, voice firm. "You've got enough going on at home. Someone else can handle meals."

Now, standing alone in the kitchen, Minho tapped his fingers against the counter, the decision gnawing at him. It wasn't like him to delegate personal matters to strangers, but he was stretched too thin to care.

It's just food, he thought. How complicated could it be?

His phone buzzed on the counter. Picking it up, he noticed a notification from his assistant, JaeYoung
"Sir, I've compiled a list of private chefs who come recommended. Let me know if I should set up interviews."

He frowned. Interviews? The thought of meeting strangers to discuss his eating habits made his stomach churn. "No need for that," he muttered under his breath, already typing out a response.
"Not interested in interviews. Find someone reliable. Keep it discreet."

Satisfied, he set the phone down and turned to the window. The city lights blinked against the night sky, a reminder of the fast-paced life he had built for himself.

There was a time when meals were more than just fuel—when his mother's careful plating and his father's easy laughter over dinner brought warmth to the table. He hadn't had that in years.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he remembered high school and the girl who used to share the same cafeteria table with him, though not by choice. Yoon Hyejin. Always competitive, always sharp-tongued.

The memory faded as quickly as it came, replaced by the ever-present hum of his responsibilities.

Hiring a private chef wasn't about nostalgia or comfort. It was about practicality. Efficiency. A means to an end.

But the decision he made tonight would bring more to his table than just meals.