You're feeling blue and bored while quarantine in South Korea. Your job is taking its toll on you. And on top of that, being all alone with your pessimistic thoughts is draining all your energy.
One day, you decide to install a broadcasting app. There you meet a mysterious young rapper.

40 days

Reporter

Phone

Choi JiYoo

A monotonous voice brings you to your five senses.

[...] The pandemic has reached 700 thousand cases worldwide. The most affected countries are ...

You turn off the TV, which was on accidentally, because the remote control was on the sofa you fell asleep on last night.

You wanted to hear no more about that disease that was keeping everyone in a lockdown.

You had enough of it at your job as a translator for scientific articles, in which, in the past few weeks...

you were flooded with texts regarding the research on the virus.

You stare at your reflection on the mirror.

You can only see your imperfections. Your liveless eyes and their dark circles below them.

You hate it. And self-destructive thoughts invade your mind, falling one after the other like water in a cascade.

[ Fat bitch. You disgust me. Focus on your goal. Nobody wants you. Maybe you should get a liposuction, ...

if you're successful they won't see your faults. ]

Those thoughts would've made you burst into tears some time ago.

But now you were so used to them, that you felt anaesthetised.

And yet, your face gave a glimpse of deep sadness if people really cared to look at you closely.

Of course, you knew it was wrong to have such thoughts, but you couldn't help it.

When did you begin to care about what others think of you?

[ I was happier during adolescence. How funny... ]

Your most faithful, and yet unbearable client, doctor Choi was texting you.

You lost track of how many times would she put your knowledge in doubt.

She was the type of person who liked bossing everyone around, make people nervous with her sole presence.

And failed to understand that you were not her employee. You were an autonomous worker.

But you always tried to please her, explaining in detail why you would choose this word instead of that, or even some grammar concepts. 

However, Choi kept on pushing you, wanting her articles to be as similar as the original Korean script as possible.

Though you explained to her why, she never seemed satisfied with your answers, rather annoyed.

[ Of course, 'I say so'. I'm the one who studied English for God's sake. ]

... "Oh, and please hurry. The date of the presentation was re-scheduled."

"I understand. You'll have it tomorrow. Thank you for letting me know."

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