Assistant Manager Kang Jiwon of A Food Company is a beauty.

Her head is perfectly rounded, and the line connecting her forehead, nose, and chin is close to the golden ratio. Her eyes, set beneath straight eyebrows, are deep and melancholic, and her physique boasts superior proportions that look like a real-life filter has been applied.

Even the slyest employees, who use compliments like "Wow, you're beautiful" as often as they say "Hello," couldn't help but be sincere when they saw Assistant Manager Kang Jiwon. She was, quite simply, a beauty.

Kang Jiwon had been that way since birth. Not only were the elders in her family captivated by her, but during her school days, students from nearby schools would often take the same bus just to catch a glimpse of her face. And as is often the case with those born with natural gifts, she didn't consider it special at all.

Naturally, Jiwon graduated from the Department of Theater and Film. She practiced acting, went to auditions, performed on stage, and underlined her scripts as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

However, the attention she thought would naturally follow did not come.

She stood before the camera a few times—as an extra without a single line. She stood on the theater stage a few times—as one of the background characters with exactly one line.

There was no progress, and she never had any backing to begin with.

So, she quit acting.

Fortunately, she found a job at a medium-sized company that was at least stable. It was easier to get scolded by a boss than to sit at home waiting for a call. It was better to bow her head at customer and client complaints than to sob over a rejection notice.

Predictable misfortune and predictable happiness. Kang Jiwon's life now can be explained by those two things.

The hot lights of the stage, the heartbeat echoing in her ears, the applause that followed, and the thrill, regret, and joy when the curtain fell. Though there is no intensity like that anymore,

It's a life worth living.