Chapter Text
Kim Yongsun contains multitudes.
But then again, most everyone her age does. The boundaries between what Yongsun is and what she isn’t started to blur right after her thirtieth birthday. They haven’t stopped since.
She is known to be serious, yet no one she knows faces life as playfully as she does.
She is full of energy, and yet she’s tired all the time.
She is influential, yet she’s always lived feeling like an alien.
Kim Yongsun can’t remember a time in her life when she truly fit in. But she is smart — always has been — so she has learned to make do.
The feeling of fitting in with other people can be bought. Or at least, a proxy for it. The first time she found out, she was still in high school. A remarkable, awkward teenager who had the ability to make loads of acquaintances and zero friends.
Back then, beauty and brains got Yongsun far with the adults around her, but her peers were a harder nut to crack.
That was, until she acquired something that could get her far with them, too: a well-paying after-school gig.
The next time her teacher assigned her to a group for a school project, she announced out of the blue that they could all go out for fried chicken after school. Her treat.
The girl sitting behind her asked half-jokingly if her group could eat for free, too. Yongsun didn’t bat an eye, and suddenly, it was all Yong here and Yong there. A few free meals were all it took for her fellow students to start enjoying her company.
Eventually, the well-paying after-school gig turned into a small startup she ran from her own college dorm.
Fifteen years later, Kim Yongsun has forty-nine employees and more money than she knows what to do with.
Fifteen years later, Kim Yongsun still pays for fried chicken on the rare occasions she goes out with her high school friends.
She likes to donate large amounts to the small charity that takes care of stray dogs in her neighborhood. Naturally, the founder adores her.
On days when she feels just a tiny bit too empty for comfort, after work, she sees if her masseuse can squeeze her in, and listens to him talk about guy problems until her shoulders are relaxed again.
If he’s too busy, her hairstylist is a more than viable alternative. An unnecessary blow-dry is a small price to pay for an hour of reassuring, safe, predictable interaction with another human being who needs to at least pretend he enjoys his client’s company.
Kim Yongsun is not a teenager anymore, but she is still remarkable, and a little bit awkward. Some areas of life are still tougher nuts to crack than others.
When asked, Yonghee denies that there’s anything strange about her sister. “That’s not true — you always have loads of people around. You relate to others just fine,” and, if Yongsun insists, “stop calling yourself weird! You’re so successful, what are you talking about?!”
Apparently, even her sister hasn’t figured out that, lately, Yongsun contains multitudes.
She is successful in business, and yet true social reciprocity eludes her.
She is set in her ways, and yet she has so much to give.
People would say she’s reserved, and yet she has no qualms navigating to www.justaspoonful.kr, paying the ₩79,000 subscription fee, and adding her age, picture, and occupation to the profile she just created.