Jimin didn't feel any better the following day or the day after. Technically, this was supposed to be my first day back at work, but guess who gave an utter fuck. While Jimin was resting on the bed, bucket at the ready, and a big glass of camomile tea next to him, I was browsing any webpage known to mankind on the search for a new job. 

The outcome was rather meagre, but I couldn't bring myself to regret my decision. 

Perhaps, I should have thought this through some more, should have waited until I found something more, but just the thought of returning to the mail office tomorrow filled me with dread. I didn't want to be there any longer. I didn't feel I still belonged. Maybe because everything else in my life had changed, and this was still a reminder of my old life that clung to me like a mosquito. No one needed those. 

The one thing I regretted was getting this stupid extension on my licence suspension, because delivery jobs where in high demand. And food deliveries usually came with good tips, right?

"Fuck it," I told my screen, then applied for every single available job, whether I qualified or not. At least the HR person picking up my application for 'Hedge Fund Manager for the Middle Eastern market, Arabic speakers preferred' would get a good laugh out of it. Same applied for 'Experienced Software Developer, JAVA and Python required'—Somehow I was certain this didn't refer to the animal—and 'Social Media Manager for new and exciting startup—candidates must be fluent in English and Japanese'. There was an advertisement for Senior Police officer, and I couldn't hold my giggles. Imagine, I got the job and would rock up one day as Joon's boss—the ad was for his precinct after all. I kinda doubted that they considered candidates with criminal records, however.

I turned, sighed. Jimin had woken up, and was retching some more yellow goo into his bucket. I got up, brought him another cup of tea. "How are you feeling?" I asked. 

"I don't wanna," Jimin cried. 

"I think you're almost done now. You should feel much, much better soon." 

Jimin nodded, but didn't look like he believed me. There were big bags under his eyes, and I was certain he would be falling asleep again any moment. 

I went back to my job search. It seemed every single company in the world was in dire need of a new Management team, while peasant positions were hard to get. There was an ad for a Barista job, but it was a part-time position and the offered salary was so low, it would barely cover my travel fare. Nevertheless, I applied. Heck, I would have applied for an escort girl job, had one been available. 

For the moment, I thought I had good changes of either becoming a retail assistant at a shoe shop, a janitor in a close-by adult learning centre, or a night porter at an airport hotel. 

My phone rang. I glanced at the screen then threw it aside. This was the third time work was calling me. I hadn't bothered calling in sick, although I couldn't help feeling guilty about it. I mean, it was the big boss I was fucking angry with, but essentially it was my team whom I was letting down. Sighing, I reached for the device and re-dialled the number. 

"Hello?"

"It's me, Min Yoongi. Sorry, listen, I won't make it today. My brother's not well. I gotta look after him today." As if on cue, Jimin took that moment to retch and wail, it wouldn't have been possible for anyone to not hear it. 

"I'm so sorry to hear, Mr Min. Is he doing okay? Anything I can do?"

Darn, I didn't even remember the name of the colleague I was talking to, or whether I had told them anything about my brother. But their concern sounded genuine. Could it be that my colleagues weren't the idiots I always took them to be?

"Unless you know some remedies for food poisoning, I don't think you can," I replied, ready to hang up. 

"Well, ginger tea is supposed to help. Feeding him light foods such as banana's, rice, applesauce and toast will also help."

"That's… really useful, thank you."

"No worries at all. I hope your brother has a swift recovery. If you need another day off, let me know."

"You sure?" 

"Well, what can I say. You're the local legend here after your deliver van stunt," the person laughed. "I wish I had your guts. Now more than ever. We are being shoved back and forth, by the big-boss, by the government, by those stupid restrictions, aren't we? And most of us simply obey. You just got yourself out there and fixed something that—in all fairness—is a disgraceful mess."

"I'm not sure whether that's guts or stupidity to be honest."

The line was quiet for a moment, and for a moment I thought the person on the other end has hung up.

"My mum lived in a care home, you know," the voice finally said, and I thought I could hear a slight quiver. "Same as you, I couldn't go to see her, or spend any time with her. I had all the arguments, about having negative test results, about only spending time outdoors, but to no avail. My mum had Alzheimer's and didn't understand what was happening. She was alone and isolated, and one day, she just gave up." There was a gulp. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother you with my own misery. But I wish I would have had the guts to steal a delivery van, drive up there, and get her out, no matter the consequences."

"No, you're not bothering me with your story at all," I allowed, realising this was the truth. It also allowed me to figure out whom I was talking to. Mrs Kang was only working part time at the post office. She was a middle-aged lady, married with three kids, barely younger than myself, who on occasion had mentioned having a mother in a care home. Somehow I never made the connection how similar the situation had been to my own. 

"You know, I wish I had talked more," I found myself saying. "I struggled so hard with the decision of putting my brother in a home. It never felt a hundred percent right. Somehow, I never realised you might have been exactly the person to understand where I was coming from."

The line was quiet for a second again. "My mother always used to tell me, we realise things in just the moment we need to know. Perhaps you were meant to learn that lesson on your own. And perhaps, this is the moment we were meant to confine in another."

"That's quite the fuck-you from the universe then, considering your mother…"

"I'm upset about the way things went down. I wish I could have been with her and hold her hand. But at the end of the day, my mother was almost ninety years old. I simply wished I had a different goodbye. Your brother on the other hand is a young man with his full life ahead of him." Mrs Kang chuckled. "Perhaps I shouldn't mention this, but my daughter was rather fond of him."

"Your daughter?"

"Kang Sookie." Mrs Kang prompted, but the name didn't ring a bell.

"You may know her as Nurse Kang," Mrs Kang chuckled. 

"Cute-dimples nurse was…is…your daughter?" How had I never known? And what the fuck had I just said? Shit, shit, shit.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" Mrs Kang laughed. "Perhaps, I should ask her to check in on Jimin? Food poising is best checked out by a medical professional."

"I totally agree," I said in my most serious tone, which was a toad-like croak.

"Well then," Mrs Kang sounded strangely delighted. "I shall ask her to pop over right after her shift at MOTS house." After a little pause, she added. "Sookie has been single for over a year now, and the current pandemic hasn't really been helping with this."

"Erm,…okay." I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say to that. I don't thing it would have been a good idea for me to reveal that my last so-called relationship was buried some eight years in the past…she would have wondered what kind of weirdo I was. 

"I better get back to work now," Mrs Kang finally chirped, sounding much happier and younger all of a sudden. "I shouldn't be spending my whole workday chatting with my supervisor….however…" she trailed off, and I could hear a computer mouse being clicked, before a printer went off. "I've just amended today's diary. According to this, you had called in at six in the morning, as per our sickness protocol." 

"That's very kind of you…thank you."

"No need to mention. Anyway, you 'll need to tell me how tonight went, okay?" 

"Umm, sure." I had never been asked to report back to a potential date's mother, but in all fairness, that wasn't the weirdest thing to have happened to me. 

Then the ball dropped on me. I had a date. A proper date. With cute-dimples nurse. And she would be coming over to my place. 

I hung up on Mrs Kang, then glanced around the room. The shabby walls, the old kitchen, the still duct-taped window. It wasn't the location I would have picked for a first date, but I guess karma still didn't like me very much. 

My place was tidy, but I wouldn't go as far as calling my bare walls, my ransacked furniture, and my brownish-grey floor visually pleasing. I wasn't too shabby and fixing things, and had removed dents, stains, rips and other wear and tear by myself. But I guess decorating wasn't really my strong forte. 

Perhaps I should buy some flowers for my windowsill? Flowers brighten up every space, right? And if I got one in the right shape, it might even hide the duct-tape. Win-win. 

Jimin was still wailing and crying. He held the bucket in both hands as still more yellow and sticky goo made its return journey through his system. I checked his flushed-looking forehead. His temperature was slightly raised, but I wouldn't call it a fever. Yet, I wasn't comfortable to leave the house in order to purchase ginger tea, bananas and home plants. 

Joon was at another stake-out at the docks, and I scratched my head, wondering what I was supposed to do. Then, an idea hit me, and I went on Navar search. Thanks hell for the wonders that is the internet. 

"Good Morning, Jinjja groceries, how can I help?" Came a cheerful voice. 

"Hey wanker."

"Hey stupid, how are you?" Came Shop-dude's jolly reply. 

"I'm having a date and am in dire need of the biggest favour in the universe."

"Ahhh…. Always happy to help a man in love—in turn for some drinks and gossip, of course. What can I do?"

I rattled my shopping list down the phone, and explained how my date's mother was my co-worker and how she had set up the date. 

"And because of my poorly brother, I can't leave the house, you see." I finished, sighing.

"Your brother must be a lot younger than you," Shop-dude concluded, and I realised I never told him about Jimin. 

"He is younger," I confirmed, and left it at that. I don't know why I kept Jimin a secret. But I also didn't worry much longer about that.

"You're lucky. Shop's closing at noon today, and I can bring the stuff over afterwards."

"Thanks mate. I pay for the taxi, of course."

I didn't know how I was going to pay for it, but I didn't want to take advantage of my good-natured friend.

"Thank you," he said, "I'm sorry I can't just hop on the bus like a normal person would."

"Don't mention it. It's very kind of you to come over all the way. I really appreciate it." 

"Ah, but that's what friends are for," Shop-dude laughed. "Anyway, my finances are improving. So how about we split the taxi cost? You pay the fare for me to come, and I afford my own fare home. Fair?"

I wished I could have been the generous friend who graciously said no, and that—of course, I would cover the whole cost—but considering my dire finances, I found myself agreeing to Shop-dude's proposal. 

"Awesome. I shall see you later today… and then again on the weekend for a drink. I demand to be kept updated," he laughed. 

"Sure will do!" I confirmed, then hung up.

I turned to the bed, where Jimin had got too quiet, and quickly texted Shop-dude to add laundry detergent to the list. Jimin had fallen asleep again, and the turned-over bucket he as still clutching in his hands had spilled the gooey mess all over my bedcovers. I pinched my nose, opened my window, and moved Jimin into a comfortable position. 

Jimin remained asleep when Shop-dude showed up, so rather than coming up to my tiny studio, I meet him outside, where he pressed two grocery bags in my hands. 

"Cheers, mate. You're the best. How much do I owe you?"

"About ₩12,000 for the taxi, and ₩35,000 for your shopping." Shop-dude scratched his head as if he was uncomfortable asking me for the money. I pressed a 50k note into his hands "Keep the change."

"Umm, okay? You sure?"

The change was only ₩3,000, but it was two days worth of electricity—which was in dire need of a proper top up soon. Tomorrow though. I hoped Jimin would feel better by then.

I somehow managed to strip my bed without waking my brother, then sneaked downstairs to throw the bedsheets in for a quick wash. I was just about to turn and leave when I almost bumped into another figure. Mr Weselsky walked in with an overflowing laundry basked of his own, and gave me an evil glare. I gave him a big smile and cheerful good morning, but judged by the look on his face, he had understood it as the actual 'fuck you' I had meant it to be.

"He's back." Mr Weselsky said in lieu of a greeting. "I've heard strange noises coming from your apartment."

"My brother is living with me and Mr Yu is aware." I pushed past my awful neighbour, not having the nerves to get into any argument right now. 

"I saw a documentary last night, you know." Mr Weselsky shouted. "An unhinged teenager murdering his entire family for no particular reason but the joy to kill—and you know what?" The train-loving freak raised his eyebrow, "he looked and acted a lot like you brother, Min. I would be careful if I were you."

"Oh yeah," I came a step closer, so that our noses almost touched, then crossed my arms, "funny though, isn't it. That while Jimin and I have a living family, you seem to be all on your own."

"What are you implying, Min?" Mr Weselsky took a step back, his face beetroot red. 

I shrugged, "I ain't implying a thing. Just making observations." I tipped my nonexistent hat. "Have a fantastic evening, Mr Weselsky." Then walked up the six flights to my flat. I needed the exercise to calm down.

Jimin was awake for a moment, but immediately closed his eyes again. Without trying to disturb him too much, I fitted a fresh bedsheet, then wrapped him in fresh sheets and blanket. Then, holding my breath I cleaned the bucket I had given Jimin. Just how much of this shit had there been?

I checked his temperature, then paced up and down my tiny living space. I wondered what time Nurse Kang would show up. And should I prepare a meal? Coffee? Or was I overthinking things?

Was this a date? I thought that was what her mother was implying, but perhaps I had misunderstood? Maybe this was only meant to be a samaritan act? I mean seriously, who in their right mind would want me to date their offspring?

The minutes ticked by as I stood in front of my opened wardrobe, contemplating whether I should wear something nice for this evening or if I was fine. But just as I decided on a new pair of comfortable and casual joggers and a fresh t-shirt, my doorbell rang. 

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