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Episode 12

Anyone chosen as a ⟨Festival of Light⟩ helper must perfectly memorize the documents handed out by the contracting company Zeus within a week.

Because you need to fully understand the exhibition to properly help attendees.

But for Eunjo, it was unnecessary work. It was content she already knew.

Instead, there was something else she had to do to become a helper.

Dyeing her hair.

Na Eunjo’s bleached yellow hair would not win favor at ⟨Festival of Light⟩, where upper-class people gathered. It looked too cheap.

If she couldn’t win favor, she’d have to go all the way there, take only the base pay, and come back.

‘But I can’t do that.’

Eunjo immediately went to a high-end salon and dyed it first. When she dyed her hair a refined light-brown to match her eye color, even her overall impression looked different.

Next, she stopped by a nail shop and removed the red gel clinging to her nails, then only tidied the cuticles and applied plenty of nourishing treatment.

She also bought a few outfits. They would give her a uniform at the exhibition, but she didn’t even have anything suitable to wear to get there.

Na Eunjo’s clothes were all either too revealing or lacked any sense of dignity. The one usable outfit was probably the black one-piece dress she’d worn to her own funeral.

So, making a big decision, she bought a neat one-piece dress and some other clothes. Her bank balance shrank, but she wasn’t worried. That was how confident Eunjo was about the ⟨Festival of Light⟩ event.

Isn’t “like a fish in water” meant for times like this?

After shopping at her leisure, she stopped by a café deep in Seongsu-dong, at the end of a narrow alley. It was Lee Eunjo’s regular spot.

Sitting in her usual seat and ordering Panama Geisha, Eunjo enjoyed some long-awaited leisure with a piece of macaron.

The autumn sky visible beyond the window was high and blue. A blue sky without a single cloud made even her crumpled mind feel clear.

“Being alive must be like this….”

The past year.

Even though she lived, it didn’t feel like living.

Because she witnessed her father’s accident right in front of her, she suffered severe aftereffects. She received psychiatric treatment, and began taking medication for panic disorder.

And it was from then on.

Eunjo’s mind grew duller and duller as the days went by.

She thought it was all because of the panic-disorder medication prescribed by the hospital, but it wasn’t. It was because Kang Jinwoo and Kim Nain had been steadily mixing drugs into her food.

Of course, that doesn’t mean she was happy before that.

Her happiness…

ended the moment Jooheon disappeared.

When the bubbles in her hugely swollen heart popped with a burbling sound, what remained in the end was nothing but an empty shell.

With her mouth bitter from the coffee, Eunjo hurriedly took a bite of macaron. A sigh spilled out at the vanilla scent spreading sweetly over her tongue.

That was when it happened.

Ding, a message notification sounded, and her phone lit up.

“……Park Jooheon?”

It was Jooheon.

Park Jooheon
Shall we meet tonight?

Na Eunjo’s memories reminded her what the two short words meant.

It was what Na Eunjo had said when she picked up the check Jooheon had tossed at her.

“If you need a woman, call me anytime. I’ll take care of you.”

It had been said in a burst of anger, but it was also sincere.

Na Eunjo had been quite satisfied with her night with Jooheon. She heard humiliating words, but her body still heated up again as if it were about to.

“Eunjo. Eunjo. ……Lee Eunjo.”

Was it Na Eunjo’s memory, or her memory?

As she opened her whole body and accepted Jooheon, spilling a hot spring over and over, she cried out lewdly.

A damp sound of friction kept soaking into her eardrums, and hot breath brushed her ear.

“Eunjo. Lee Eunjo.”

With the hot motions repeatedly filling her and pulling out, her waist kept bucking.

This is… Na Eunjo’s memory.

And yet the name Jooheon called was Lee Eunjo.

So that night, the woman Jooheon held wasn’t Na Eunjo. It was Lee Eunjo.

A relationship that began softly turned violently rough by the time he called her name, and Na Eunjo was ruined that night.

On the bed, in the bathtub, on the console, and also the dining table. Jooheon held Na Eunjo….

No, Lee Eunjo.

He desired Lee Eunjo like he was insane.

Not an eight-years-ago memory, but a three-months-ago memory patterned painfully over her.

It wasn’t a normal relationship.

Holding another woman while desiring, to madness, the woman he abandoned eight years ago—what the hell is that? What kind of heart is that?

But that night was everything.

The next day, Na Eunjo demanded money, and Jooheon turned coldly away.

Na Eunjo clung a few more times, but Jooheon ignored her icily.

And yet now he suddenly wants to meet? Why?

Her heart rocked again.

Eight-years-ago memories and three-months-ago memories mixed, and her body heated up.

“Still, this isn’t it. This kind of relationship really isn’t it.”

A relationship that turns cold as much as it burned hot.

A cold relationship with only physical desire, and no heart.

She couldn’t do something like that with Jooheon.

Downing her coffee in one gulp, Eunjo wrote back to Jooheon.

No. Please forget me now.

With a few short words as brief as Jooheon’s message, Eunjo notified Park Jooheon and Na Eunjo’s “relationship termination.”

To forget the bitter, astringent taste of coffee, Eunjo put the remaining macaron into her mouth in one bite, then left the café.

* * *

A few days passed, and it was the day of the ⟨Festival of Light⟩ event.

Eunjo neatly wore a shirt blouse over the navy slacks she’d bought.

No accessories, light makeup. Since she needed to check the time, she only needed one watch.

Opening the drawer, Eunjo took out a small-bodied wristwatch and put it on, then hurried out.

The wind of the last week of September was fairly cool.

Arriving at Dain Art Center in Samcheong-dong thirty minutes before the gathering time, Eunjo found the manpower management team leader as written in the documents.

After a brief test to confirm she’d memorized the documents properly, the team leader handed her a uniform.

“You studied properly. Change in the dressing room, then go into the exhibition hall, check the guest list, and check the routes.”

“Yes.”

Nodding, Eunjo quickly changed in the dressing room.

The black pantsuit uniform was neat and luxurious. She liked this one uniform more than the dozens of outfits Na Eunjo owned.

After looking in the mirror and tying her hair up into a ponytail, Eunjo put on the black pumps she’d received with the uniform and headed to the exhibition hall.

When she entered Exhibition Room 2, where the opening event would be held, it felt strange.

For years, ⟨Festival of Light⟩ had been held, but it had never once proceeded without her.

It’s already been four years. Four years since she first planned ⟨Festival of Light⟩.

It isn’t simply viewing paintings and buying what you like—people buy taste, share refinement, build connections, and invest money to grow their assets.

Some people were interested in art itself, but there were also people who watched who bought what painting, where that painting flowed, and the flow of money. So the helpers assisting the event had to be fitting figures as well.

A Zeus staff member talked nonstop.

“Since you’ve memorized all the documents, just remember one thing. One person will be assigned to two guests and guide them through the exhibition hall, and you must observe the guests keenly and fulfill their needs. Don’t forget that you receive a performance bonus at the end of the event depending on satisfaction.”

This was the core.

If you do well, you can receive, as tips, an amount of money ordinary people couldn’t even imagine.

Eunjo looked at the two small microphones issued to her.

From now on, the key is who she attaches these to.

Helpers gathered in small groups were busy scanning the guest list. It looked like they were coordinating who would take whom.

Watching those helpers, Eunjo smiled faintly. Then she took a step back and leisurely savored the air of the exhibition room felt beyond the partition.

* * *

Guests began arriving one after another.

Then, as if they’d finished coordinating, the helpers moved briskly and approached the guests they’d marked.

They greeted them while handing over the microphone, and the guests attached the microphone to their lapel.

If a guest didn’t like a helper, they could refuse and point to a different helper.

But usually, that didn’t happen.

She’d heard that those who applied to be ⟨Festival of Light⟩ helpers put in about a year learning the manners needed for this event.

If they perfectly showed what was wanted, who would refuse?

It meant that this position was just that important to young art students.

Because if you do well, you might find a lifelong patron.

So the helpers who found their pairs scattered into the exhibition room, and now the only helpers left were Eunjo, dispatched from Hera Entertainment, and one other person.

‘Her name was… Yang Iso?’

Anyway, including those two, five people in total were left.

Some remained voluntarily because the true VIPs hadn’t arrived yet, and some were left because another helper stole the guest they’d marked, leaving them with no choice. Yang Iso, who came with her from Hera, just looked like she had no motivation.

Well, in other people’s eyes, Eunjo probably looked the same.

A helper with no desire to claim guests, with only a pretty face.

There was someone who had been watching that sight anxiously since earlier. Jung Sohyun’s husband, Min Wongil, that was.