Shining, or whatever—that's all in the past. More importantly, I had to figure out what to eat tomorrow.

Pushed to the very edge, I moved into this villa a week ago. It's in Seoul, but on the outskirts. The conditions seemed okay, but the ceiling leaks. Fucking hell, this is my final destination, and what's even more miserable is that I'm actually somewhat satisfied with it.

The grimy room is full of flies, food scraps, and tiny invisible bugs. It's cozy when the lights are off, and blackout curtains weren't an option—they were a necessity. Taewoo threw on the hoodie he always wears and zipped it up to his chin. He put on a mask and pulled his hat low. He was startled by his own reflection in the mirror. He looked quite like a middle-aged man.

It's 19 degrees today. Cold. The hallway leading to the villa exit after leaving the house is even colder. He doesn't like this space much because his footsteps seem to echo through the entire building as he walks.

...

Something crunches under Taewoo's slipper. Mail. Squinting to look closer, it looks like a debt collection notice. When he looks up to scan his surroundings, he sees a man who looks to be around his age. I guess that guy's life is pretty shitty too.

He isn't the type to meddle, but since he's already stumbled upon someone else's business, he decides to pick it up for him. Honestly, it made him feel a little better. He picked up the mail and waved it, stretching out his arm.

"Excuse me. Isn't this yours? You dropped it."

Taewoo's voice was listless.