Mr. Park didn't reply immediately. His brows furrowed as he mulled it over, the weight of it sinking in. Talking to walls?That was a new level. His thoughts drifted to his granddaughter, who had taken a quiet liking to Yujin. He made a mental note to start keeping a closer eye—just in case.
Miss Yin hummed in agreement, casually validating his rhetorical concerns.
She was busy reapplying lipstick in the stairwell window, feigning indifference. Then, with a flick of her compact mirror, she muttered, "Mark my words—she's a headline waiting to happen. First, it's noise complaints, then it's police tape and a tragic article about isolation and a mental breakdown."
They would've gone on, happily scripting the tragedy of a girl they barely knew, if not for the sudden sound of footsteps on the stairs.
Their audience had arrived.
Yujin and Mina, bags in hand, climbed the stairs slowly—and unfortunately, just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation. They tried to pretend they hadn't heard it. But Mr. Park saw them, and as if duty called him, he puffed up and stepped forward with a landlord's fake concern.
"Miss Yujin," he began, his tone theatrical, "the neighbors are complaining. They say you've been causing quite a racket in your room—disturbing my beautiful tenants, especially Miss Yin." He glanced back at her with mock admiration.
Miss Yin giggled like a teenager at a school dance, placing a hand to her chest and whispering, "Oh stop," though she clearly wanted him to go on.
Yujin's eye twitched.
At that moment, Miss Yin stepped forward like a peacock, brushing invisible dust from her designer coat. "You kids," she snapped, pointing a manicured finger at Yujin and Mina, "always so noisy. No respect for others. You rush out of your parents' houses thinking you know the world, only to end up broke and bothering the rest of us."
Yujin clenched her fists, feeling the tension surge through her body. Life had been a rough mess lately—dreams shattered, endless stress, and feeling like she was just barely holding it together. But now, after a long day, she came home to her apartment, hoping for some peace. And here was Miss Yin, trying to make her the latest talking point in her never-ending cycle of judgment and gossip. No. Not today.
Yujin's lips curled into a mischievous grin, a look Mina had never quite seen before. Usually quiet, Yujin didn't mind keeping to herself. But only when people knew their boundaries. Miss Yin had just pressed her buttons and passed the limit.
Yujin's eyebrow lifted like a sword being drawn. "Well, I'm an orphan," she said coolly, "so I guess I skipped that whole 'rushing out of my parents' house' part, didn't I?"
The words hung in the air. Mr. Park's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Miss Yin looked like someone had slapped her with a bag.
Mr. Park's face flushed with embarrassment. "I… I didn't know. I just—"
"You just assumed," Mina said, not cruelly, but with a tone that cut deep.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I—uh—I apologize. Truly." His voice cracked with genuine regret as he took a small step back.
But Miss Yin wasn't done. She sniffed, crossing her arms as she struck another pose, her chin tilted high, still clinging to the last remnants of her dignity. "Orphan or not, I'm still losing sleep. And if I wanted to live next to a drum circle, I'd move to Hongdae."
Her words were sharp, but even as she spoke, there was a flicker of doubt behind her eyes. She could sense the shift—Mr. Park's previously unwavering support was no longer guaranteed. But Miss Yin's pride, bloated like a balloon ready to pop, wouldn't let her back down. Her ego refused to acknowledge she was wrong, and instead, she pushed forward with words that only dug her in deeper.
Yujin smirked, leaning in slightly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, Hongdae, right? Who's stopping you, honestly. I mean, you've got all the money in the world for that, right?"
She shot a glance at Miss Yin's clothes, her smile turning sharp. "You've got money, right? So why are you still stuck in this complex? With your knockoff shoes and bags, trying so hard to look high class. Everyone can tell—you're just buying cheap or second-hand stuff. Pathetic."
She raised an eyebrow, her tone now laced with mock sympathy. "And you—worrying about your sleep? That's honestly the least of your problems at this point. How old are you now, 45? It's cute how you walk around pretending like you're some sort of 'good example.' "
She leaned back, her eyes cold and calculating. "But really, who even calls you, Miss Yin? When's the last time your family asked you to come home? Oh, right—no family, no friends, and worst of all—no husband." She let those words hang, the silence thick with meaning. "I think I know why... You nag so much, no man's going to stick around. It's... well, it's kind of distasteful."
Yujin's grin turned into something sharper, more vicious. "And when you're not around? People have plenty to say, don't they? Gold digger? Desperate for attention? Probably both. I mean, who wouldn't? It's obvious." She shrugged, her smile wickedly satisfied.
The words landed like a punch. For a moment, there was silence, thick with tension. Mr. Park looked between them, uncertain whether to intervene. Miss Yin's face flushed, a mix of shock and simmering indignation brewing beneath the surface. Yujin's voice was calm, but the sting was undeniable.
Mina quickly stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Yujin's arm. She could feel the tension radiating from her friend, and if she didn't step in, it was only a matter of time before someone would be crying—and it wouldn't be Yujin. Yujin had grown up with her grandmother after losing her parents, and that upbringing had shaped her into someone who knew exactly how to push someone's buttons without crossing a line. If not for her grandmother's training, Miss Yin might've been in for a much worse confrontation today. Mina had only seen Yujin truly blow up once, and the memory of it still made her shudder. The person who had triggered Yujin's outburst that day had learned a very painful lesson—and it wasn't pretty. But today, Yujin's self-control was still intact, a testament to the values her grandmother had instilled in her. However, Miss Yin's words were dangerously close to testing that control beyond its limits.
Mr. Park, sensing the impending fallout, awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to salvage what was left of the situation. He stepped between the two women, his hands raised in a half-hearted attempt at peace. "Now, now, Yujin, you must be tired," he said, trying to defuse the tension with forced cheer. "Maybe you should rest, yeah? And, uh... Miss Yin, I'm so sorry again about... Yujin's situation." He glanced at her with a mix of sympathy and apology, but it was clear he was more concerned about keeping the peace than addressing any real issues.
Miss Yin, still reeling from Yujin's sharp words, shot Mr. Park a withering glare, but her pride was too bruised to muster a response. Instead, she turned her attention back to Yujin, her lips pressed into a thin line, too defeated to make a proper comeback. The tension hung heavy in the air, but one thing was clear—Yujin had torn through Miss Yin's carefully crafted facade, leaving it in ruins.