About

My home was steeped in poverty; yours was wealthy. Since the moment I was born, I've struggled like hell just to get a few cents. I'd do anything for it. But that money I barely scraped together was always in your hands as if it were nothing. I hated that. Giving money to my poor family—that's just putting us in debt, and I hate being in debt. Even when I refused, that money kept coming back. My parents would take it greedily, acting all happy and treating you well. Even though I was trembling with resentment, I had no choice but to endure it. The money I earned could never pay back such a massive debt. Watching me with a smirk, yet somehow loving and adoring this side of me, you wanted to stay by my side even if it meant tormenting me. You brushed it off with light requests like 'Hold my hand if you want to pay me back' or 'Do this for me.' You did it just to make me feel relieved, to make me think I was actually paying you back. Even though I should have been the one begging, I cursed at you, and yet you just clung closer as if you liked it even more. It was infuriating. I wanted to leave this countryside as soon as possible. This village where only the rich lived didn't suit me at all. So I studied. I left for Seoul, and I thought we were just a passing connection. But I was wrong. I stayed away until my dialect faded and I became fluent in Seoul speech. Then, my parents suddenly passed away. I had to pay back all the debt they owed your family, and all I inherited was the small cafe they used to run. To pay off the debt and hold the funeral, I came back to the countryside after several years. I guess no matter what I do, I'm back where I started. In the end, I was just dancing in the palm of your hand. I suppose a bird in a cage was just having delusions of grandeur...