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Sometimes, Jisun forgets how wealthy she is. Which honestly sounds really idiotic; of course she's conscious of her wealth -- she grew up relatively poor in North Korea, for Christ's sake -- but sometimes she'll see things and realize, oh yeah. This is the world I live in now. Wow.
It's not like Jisun lives like she did before. She buys clothing from luxury brands, goes out to fancy dinner parties, and she even chose to rent out a luxurious apartment when she definitely could've been happier with a simpler place. She embraced her wealth.
Honestly, the apartment thing was definitely one of Jisun's most questionable decisions. Was I drunk when I did this? Jisun had wondered, horrified when she realized she had to . . . share her apartment with another girl. Jisun was an introvert, through and through -- she didn't have social anxiety or anything, so while social interaction was painful, she could handle it. But living with someone? Horrendous. Absolutely horrendous.
Jisun miserably understood that she had made the stupid decision, and now had to deal with the consequences. Which comes back to why she was contemplating her wealth earlier. Apparently, Jisun's . . . roommate had hired designers to decorate her apartment. Rich people were a marvel. Jisun thought she had seen it all, but encountering such sights reminded her that she was a mere child in this world of wealth.
It must be a freshman, Jisun thought, miserable once again. They're always so bright-eyed and eager before the shit reality of college slaps them in the face.
Jisun could attest to that. She was nineteen -- a little young for her year, but not absurdly -- and she was a junior. She had already been through two years of college, and while she was immensely grateful for such an expensive and high-quality education, college was no paradise. It was a paradise compared to living under the regime of Kim Jong-un, though, but that's not a high standard anyway.
Jisun had stonily glanced at the designers, before nodding briefly and retreating back to her room. Dal had growled at them aggressively -- ah, silly doggy, always one to intimidate -- before trotting after her. Jisun was sure that the designers were pointedly ignoring her and Dal, which was honestly a blessing. She was sure that they were wonderful people, and Jisun respected anyone who had to work for rich people (yes, a lot of them are actually decent, but the ones that aren't really stick in your mind), but she hated small talk -- she shivered at the thought of having to endure that with her roommate's designers.
Jisun walked into the living room with Dal hopping behind her, meeting the eyes of the roommate's designers once again. They nodded politely at her, but hurried to turn their gaze away. Unfortunately, Jisun had to walk through the living space in order to get to the kitchen and feed Dal. It was poor timing that she had to encounter the designers.
Immediately after Jisun's interaction with Roommate's Designers, the door opened and Jisun mentally curled into a ball. How could such poor timing be immediately followed with an even worse incidence of it? Toughen up, Jisun. It's literally just another person -- you have to interact with them on the daily, unfortunately. Yes, you have to room with her, which sucks ass, but stop complaining -- you literally crossed a river to China with soldiers shooting at you when you were ten, you can handle this.
Jisun glanced up at the girl who entered the room. She had an innocent face. Jisun nodded in acknowledgment, and Dal immediately started growling again.
It's not like Jisun lives like she did before. She buys clothing from luxury brands, goes out to fancy dinner parties, and she even chose to rent out a luxurious apartment when she definitely could've been happier with a simpler place. She embraced her wealth.
Honestly, the apartment thing was definitely one of Jisun's most questionable decisions. Was I drunk when I did this? Jisun had wondered, horrified when she realized she had to . . . share her apartment with another girl. Jisun was an introvert, through and through -- she didn't have social anxiety or anything, so while social interaction was painful, she could handle it. But living with someone? Horrendous. Absolutely horrendous.
Jisun miserably understood that she had made the stupid decision, and now had to deal with the consequences. Which comes back to why she was contemplating her wealth earlier. Apparently, Jisun's . . . roommate had hired designers to decorate her apartment. Rich people were a marvel. Jisun thought she had seen it all, but encountering such sights reminded her that she was a mere child in this world of wealth.
It must be a freshman, Jisun thought, miserable once again. They're always so bright-eyed and eager before the shit reality of college slaps them in the face.
Jisun could attest to that. She was nineteen -- a little young for her year, but not absurdly -- and she was a junior. She had already been through two years of college, and while she was immensely grateful for such an expensive and high-quality education, college was no paradise. It was a paradise compared to living under the regime of Kim Jong-un, though, but that's not a high standard anyway.
Jisun had stonily glanced at the designers, before nodding briefly and retreating back to her room. Dal had growled at them aggressively -- ah, silly doggy, always one to intimidate -- before trotting after her. Jisun was sure that the designers were pointedly ignoring her and Dal, which was honestly a blessing. She was sure that they were wonderful people, and Jisun respected anyone who had to work for rich people (yes, a lot of them are actually decent, but the ones that aren't really stick in your mind), but she hated small talk -- she shivered at the thought of having to endure that with her roommate's designers.
Jisun walked into the living room with Dal hopping behind her, meeting the eyes of the roommate's designers once again. They nodded politely at her, but hurried to turn their gaze away. Unfortunately, Jisun had to walk through the living space in order to get to the kitchen and feed Dal. It was poor timing that she had to encounter the designers.
Immediately after Jisun's interaction with Roommate's Designers, the door opened and Jisun mentally curled into a ball. How could such poor timing be immediately followed with an even worse incidence of it? Toughen up, Jisun. It's literally just another person -- you have to interact with them on the daily, unfortunately. Yes, you have to room with her, which sucks ass, but stop complaining -- you literally crossed a river to China with soldiers shooting at you when you were ten, you can handle this.
Jisun glanced up at the girl who entered the room. She had an innocent face. Jisun nodded in acknowledgment, and Dal immediately started growling again.