The ice knocking against the walls of the plastic cup grated Hye-jin's ears more than anything. In front of her, Anette swirled her almost empty drink, clicking her tongue. "I heard you and that guy from uni got on," she said. "Been so long since we last caught up."

Hye-jin plastered on a small smile. "Yeah, it's been a while," she looked at Seon-yi who sat beside her, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her lounge chair as she waited for her second fill. Leave it to her to never be satisfied with one. "How have you been?"

Seon-yi frowned, threw her bleached hair behind her shoulder, and turned to Hye-jin. "We've just gotten together for the first time since we graduated and that's the question you ask me? Come on," she leaned closer and propped her chin against her palm, blinking her heavily-mascaraed eyes. "Try harder."

Hye-jin blew a breath, tucking her own hair behind her ear. Her fingers then moved to the hem of her plain, baggy shirt she wore yesterday. Laundry was tiring. Besides, it wasn't like she got out of the house yesterday. It's not dirty. Not yet. "How are things back home?" She tilted her head to one side, studying her friend's outfit. "You've been let loose?"

"You bet," Seon-yi's eyes brightened, which meant Hye-jin hit the jackpot when it came to what her friend really wanted to talk about. "My parents finally became tired of me and kicked me out of the house. Oh, what freedom! I can dress how I want now."

"Does that mean no more shopping sprees with me?" Hye-jin ventured, somehow dreading what would happen if Seon-yi insisted on renewing their practice. How would she even begin to tell Rin that she's going to be leaving the house unattended for six hours or however long it took for Seon-yi to shop these days?

Anette slurped from her cup, drawing in nothing but air and the water brought about by the melting ice. She cursed, her mouth still as foul as ever. "When are you going to include me on those, huh?" she said. "You only ever take Hye-jin."

Seon-yi rolled her eyes. "Of course you can come," she jerked her chin at the woman opposite her, one who was a natural blonde. "You always have something going on whenever we go out. What org was it?"

Anette groaned and rolled her eyes. "Ugh. The debate team," she set her drink down at the flat, round table between them. "I remember now. We always had huddles during Fridays. That's when you usually shop, right?

She crossed her legs at the knees. "I swear, it did me no good except maybe in winning against my husband," her lips widened into a grin when the topic scratched the surface of what Hye-jin was trying to avoid since they met in the shop two hours ago. "Which brings me to the real deal," she glanced at Hye-jin. "How's Rin?"

Hye-jin pursed her lips. Of course, her friends would be referring to her husband by name. It wasn't like they didn't meet in college during the times they tried to make both their worlds come together. Rin had expressed his discomfort around her friends and had gone out of his way to avoid crossing paths with them. Still, he didn't think he's the one who should tell Hye-jin who she could be friends with—one of the graces she had been blessed by the heavens with.

"He's fine," she answered, flattening the collar of her shirt against her shoulders. One glance at the sky outside the floor to ceiling glass windows of the shop told her she'd have to go soon. Dinner's not going to cook itself. "Doing his best in his work. You know, normal things."

Anette raised an eyebrow. "How about you?" she said. "I don't see you going on about your career like Seon-yi did for the past five years."

"Hey!" Seon-yi complained. Her pissed expression morphed into a bright smile as a server approached them with her new drink. She was frowning when she glared at Anette once more. "That was valid. The pay's not really good at that company. So I abandoned them and went for someone who can offer me what I want. Next thing I know, I'm a senior manager of sorts. A stylish one at that, too."

Her gut twinged. She should be happy for her friends—Seon-yi, who recently landed a job paying her six figures every month, and Anette, who found her luck traveling around the world for her travelog series for a major television network—but she couldn't muster enough strength to do so. Was she a bad friend, one who couldn't even rejoice with people as her own life was being put on hold?

"What are you up to now?" came Anette's curious but dreadful question.

Hye-jin scratched the side of her neck even though it wasn't itchy. Her nails would probably leave red streaks on her too-pale skin. "I've been doing some freelance work," she said. "You know, drafting proposals for games and submitting them to various studios."

The silence should have told her she was doing something so wrong, but as usual, she chose to stay oblivious to it. "I've been helping Rin around the house too," she continued, her fingers brushing the ends of the hasty knot she put her hair into before leaving the apartment earlier. "Since his mother and brother moved in, that is."

"Brother?" Seon-yi blinked, her drink now up to half of the cup. Really? That fast?

Hye-jin bobbed her head. "Yeah. His name's Kaito. He's a sweetheart even though all he does is cry at irregular hours in the night until dawn," she said.

Anette snorted. "I'm not even going to ask about how you got yourself involved with a baby," she said. "I thought you hated children?"

"It's not that I hate them," Hye-jin said. "I just...can't stand them before. But now, I guess I just got used to them. They're kinda cute too."

Seon-yi coughed into her fist as she apparently gulped down her drink the wrong way. "You meant to tell me," she coughed some more, flattening her hand against the low neckline of her fitted crop top. Her face crumpled whether in disbelief or her throat hurting. "That you quit your job, put your career on hold, and became a nanny?"

Anette hissed, sucking in a breath between her teeth. It's a habit she picked up when she visited Hye-jin and Seon-yi's houses back when they're college freshmen. "Sunny!" she said, referring to her attempt at pronouncing Seon-yi's name. It originated as an inside joke between the three of them, but it stuck. "That's not a nice thing to say."

Seon-yi glanced at Hye-jin and blew a breath. "Sorry, Jenny," she said, throwing in the silly nickname Anette gave Hye-jin beforehand. "But really, is that what you're dealing with? Couldn't you have gotten a helper or something?"

Hye-jin bit her lip. Why was she explaining her circumstance to her friends like she was defending her way of life in court? The answer evaded her for as long as she thought about it. "We did have one before but Rin's not earning enough to cover the expenses," she fiddled with her fingers before forcing them to untangle and smooth her rumpled skirt instead. "I thought it's better if I stayed home to write my proposals than be stuck in a customer service job that doesn't even pay well."

"But at least it's paying," Anette raised an eyebrow but leaned back against her seat. "I mean, I wasn't judging you for your choices. Just trying to understand where you're coming from to have made this drastic decision."

Seon-yi bobbed her head. By the day, it seemed like the cosmetics she had been piling on her face and skin seemed to have grown. "It's not great for us to stop while we're young," she said. "As we get older, opportunities would only be as much as how many wrinkles we don't have on our skin. You know that, right?"

As much as Hye-jin hated it, her friends were right. She didn't have much time left to establish her career and stopping now, when she barely had enough credit or experience to her name, she might have just killed herself in the slowest and most excruciating way.

The sun dipped lower from the sky, turning the clouds into a pale lavender. "I should go," Hye-jin scrambled upright, snatching her tote bag from her seat. "I have a ton of stuff to do at home."

Anette whipped towards her, bewildered. "It's still early! We can hit the clubs later on too!" she said. "Come on. We've barely got to hang out."

Hye-jin smiled, almost apologetically. "I really need to get home," she said. "I'll see you soon, I promise!"

Which wouldn't probably happen since she had no idea when she would have enough free time for herself again. It's only by luck that Rin had taken his mother and his brother to his cousins for the weekend and Anette happened to be in town. When would the stars align for such an event again? It's slim.

Still, Hye-jin braved the thickening foot traffic as the dismissal hour of offices and schools ticked by. When she got home, as expected, everything was dark. She set to work, laying herself back into the routine and pace she had forced herself to grow used to. As utensils and plates clinked, one word refused to fade from her mind. When she looked into the water running from the faucet and tumbling into the drain, at the sight of soap bubbles staining her arms and her hair, she finally saw it.

Nanny.

She hated it. She wouldn't ever be associated with that word.

At around eleven in the evening, long after the sun had set and the thick clouds had rolled over the city, the apartment's door dinged open, spitting Rin. Hye-jin rose from her place at the kitchen table which became her work desk for late-night writing and watched her husband stumble past the ante and creep towards the living room.

He didn't look at Hye-jin once, nor did he appear to notice her slinking in the shadows. Once he saw the couch, he dropped the backpack he always took to work, loosened his tie, and shed off his coat. Without a word, he flopped into the cushion, and within seconds, was already snoring lightly.

The stench of alcohol permeated in the air, making Hye-jin's insides crawl. Where was he going every night to go home wasted like this? Wasn't he supposed to report to the office at seven tomorrow? If he only got home now, how was he supposed to take care of himself and get enough sleep?

She huffed, striding to their room and grabbing the blanket from his side of the bed which had still remained unused from when she last did the laundry. She threw it over him and lowered the heating in the living room. He was a light sleeper, being awoken by the slightest noise. Recently, though, Hye-jin could be banging a ladle and a frying pan together near his ear and he wouldn't even notice. What changed?

Her train of thought froze her. She stared at the state of their home, at the shelves she dusted and the floors she cleaned every day. The vase that once was filled with blooming flowers now sat empty and lifeless. The console and the screen it was attached to remained untouched. The pictures on the frames told them of ghosts of the past—one they wouldn't ever be able to go back to.

Nanny.

Was that all Hye-jin was now?

No. She's not. She should be something more in this house. She was someone else in this horrid place.

The thing she should be fearing wasn't being called names or associated with words she thought she'd never be beforehand. She should fear the day when people would be asking her who she was and she wouldn't know what to answer.