Just Your Luck

One doesn’t hit rock bottom with a crash and a boom. Sometimes, it’s just a soft thud after a long, slow sink.

In your case, it wasn’t the notice of termination from your boss after final appeal, nor the eviction notice after failing to pay rent on time for the third month in a row. It was the sudden feeling after cooking your second-to-the last cup of rice, with nothing else in the fridge save for soy sauce, a single egg, and an empty wallet.

That broke you.

In a blind rage, you threw a laundry basket, your pillows, even your framed diploma. Not a single scratch that would’ve sank you into deeper debt, but enough that your knuckles were bloody against unblemished drywall.

How was any of this fair? You worked every bone of your body out to scrape by; your hair was thinner, your muscles were sore every day, and you could feel your skin cold to the touch. And yes, you hadn’t eaten in what seemed to be 12 hours.

Someone knocked at your door. You felt tears well in your eyes; how could it be the landlord already? You got the letter yesterday. How cruel could they possibly be?

You started blubbering as the doorknob turned; you’d forgotten to lock it. Your heart raced as your breath gave away your panic.

When the door opened, it was Yujin and Wonyoung, your two former coworkers.

“Hey, are you okay?!,” Yujin ran to you, holding you in her arms. You couldn’t keep it together, breaking down completely. You were practically screaming. Through your moment of weakness, Yujin sat there, her own tears streaming down to your cheek.

Wonyoung sniffled in the distance, slowly looking through your stuff. She’d call Yujin when she’d found something that hinted at your situation – the eviction and termination notices, the broken debris – and she started packing things up more neatly.

“Hey, let’s focus on what’s urgent. The letter said they’ll be coming in about an hour,” Wonyoung whispered. You could only shake your head in blind denial, merely blubbering “no” over and over. She switched places with Yujin, a much faster worker, while she held you close.

“I know, I know,” Wonyoung whispered, her voice cracking from her own sympathetic breakdown. “We’ll help you, we promise. But please, right now we gotta get to work.”

You breathed a shaky breath and stood up, pouring tears with every step. You didn’t think; you threw whatever you could into trash bags. When your landlord came by, Yujin and Wonyoung gave him a mouthful as he started harping at you; you could swear you also saw wallets being pulled out, bills thrown at the cranky old man who’d eventually left without a fight.

After a while, the room was as empty as it could be. Wonyoung and Yujin, with a lot of finagling, got your stuff on the street, hired a cab, and brought you to their place. The same amount of reverse finagling later, you found yourself at their studio – jobless, homeless, and hopeless.

The two collapsed on their couch, catching their breaths. You sat on the floor, quietly staring into the nothingness.

“Pizza?,” Yujin asked.

“Pizza,” Wonyoung responded. Wonyoung started going through her phone, ordering some food.

Wonyoung looked around before finding you sat on the floor. “Hey, get over here, will you?”

You couldn’t find it in you to move. You knew what was going to come next.

“W-Wonyoung,” you mumbled, “I can’t.”

“You haven’t even heard me out,” she urged. “Come over here, please?”

“Won–”

Yujin got up and sat beside you on the floor, still on her phone finishing up the order. A few seconds later, she set her phone down with a thud.

“Dude, can you stop trying so damn hard for a second? You know we know what’s been going on with you,” Yujin huffed. “So please, stop acting like you have everything under control. You don’t.”

You froze, feeling only the last teardrops well at the edges of your eyes, but too little to come falling down.

“She’s right,” Wonyoung added. “You can’t keep pretending you’re okay. You can’t force it either.”

“I-I can’t,” you blubbered again. “It’s too much to ask of you.”

Yujin looked back at Wonyoung. “You want an honest answer? Yeah, you’ll disrupt a few things in the house. You’ll probably take this couch, where we spend time here to work. You’ll be eating our food for a while, which requires some extra spending. We covered a chunk of your rent, which wasn’t an easy give. But… I would do it again if I had to. Any day. Wonyoung?”

“Brutally honest, but… yeah, no regrets here,” she sighed heavily. “It’s hard enough out there nowadays. You don’t need someone to hurt you less by not caring.”

“I-It’s fine,” you shook off. “I’ll get some service jobs. I’ve done this before. The secretary job was basically one anyway.”

Yujin and Wonyoung chuckled. “You’re so naturally funny, you know?,” Yujin remarked.

“Wasn’t meaning to be,” you sighed. “But… thank you.”

You let Yujin ease you up to bring you to the couch, sitting between her and Wonyoung.

“I’ll get some drinks,” Wonyoung urged. “Anything you’d like?”

“Just coffee,” Yujin replied. “You?”

“No, it's–” Yujin glared at you. “C-coffee.”

As Wonyoung got to work, Yujin leaned back on the sofa. As she arched her back to stretch, you couldn’t help but notice the sleeveless shirt she wore stretch against the curves of her chest. You’ve never seen them like this, considering your only engagement with them was limited to the office.

“How’d you know to check on me at my house?,” you asked.

Yujin shrugged. “Just a hunch. You wouldn’t skip work even if you’d been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness.”

“Like that 39-degree fever, remember?,” Wonyoung cried out from the kitchen.

“Right. So, something felt off,” Yujin continued.

“Well… yeah,” you groaned, leaning forward, arms on your knees. “I suppose you have questions.”

“Not questions,” Wonyoung called out, walking in with a tray of your coffees in dainty mugs. You got a plain red one. “Just… talk.”

“Talk?”

“Y'know… say what’s on your mind,” she said, putting her mug up to her nose and breathing in the coffee. “And if there’s nothing, or you don’t want to, well… at least you had the space.”

You sat there, pondering where to start. Obviously there was the termination. Absolute bullshit reason – “unsatisfactory performance” – that was probably some mask to retrench you. You’d actually been leading marketing projects, unlike some of the mooches in office, so much so that you poured out just a bit too much of your own salary to make shit happen.

There was that too – that, against Yujin and Wonyoung’s warnings, you had indeed spent a bit too much money on time out to work for a company that didn’t even do overtime pay or reliable reimbursement. That was your fault.

Then you got into that accident. Some stupid biker in the wrong lane who just happened to be the son of an executive, who paid off for the costs to the damaged bike, but butted in to deny you coverage for your hospital treatment. You didn’t even know you had insurance.

Recalling it all, you couldn’t help but feel the same anger and rage from the previous night. If not for Yujin’s and Wonyoung’s hands rubbing your back and your thigh in comfort, you probably would have had another totally justified meltdown. Wonyoung seemed more concerned at the outbursts of anger; Yujin sighed as heavily as you did.

“So,” Yujin pressed, “do you want to hear anything in particular?”