Soojin sat on the bench, her hands pressed to her face, tears slipping through her fingers. The elderly woman beside her shifted closer, lowering her voice.
"Child, you shouldn't have to cry alone like this," she said softly. "When I was your age, I thought the world would break me before I even began."
Soojin lifted her head slightly, sniffling. "I... I don't know what to do. I've tried so hard, but no one will give me a chance. I don't even know if I can survive on my own."
The woman nodded, eyes distant. "Ah... I know that feeling. Raising my children after my husband passed... I had to stretch every coin, every hour. I would have cried more days than I smiled. Sometimes it feels hopeless, but you have to take what you can, one step at a time."
Soojin looked at her, unsure if she could believe it. "But... I don't even know where to start. Every opportunity feels out of reach."
The woman smiled faintly. "That's the hardest part, isn't it? Not knowing. I sometimes feel like I'm failing as a grandmother, not teaching enough, not guiding enough... yet even in small ways, we can help each other. Even strangers can offer advice if the heart is willing."
At that moment, two other elderly women strolling through the park slowed as they noticed them. One approached cautiously. "Hana, is everything alright? You look like you're comforting someone."
"I... yes, I think so. She's having a rough day," Hana said softly. Then, turning to Soojin with a kind smile, she added, "It's true, child. Life can be unfair. But sometimes, there are chances others overlook."
Soojin blinked. "Chances?"
The first woman chuckled lightly. "There's a small office just a little outside the city. Not many people want it—too far, too quiet, they say. But it's steady work, honest work, and the pay is enough to live on if you manage carefully. You'd be filing records, helping with correspondence, keeping accounts organized—things that need attention but not experience you don't yet have. Most young people don't want it because it's away from the city center, but the rent is low, food is cheap, and the owner is fair. We've even helped a few find lodging nearby before—simple rooms, nothing fancy, but safe. You could save a little, build your own life, and not be rushed by city expenses."
Soojin stared at them, heart hammering. "Really? You think... I could...?"
"Of course," Hana said, patting her hand. "You won't be alone. You'll have guidance from us if you need it. It's a chance to start, to prove to yourself that you can handle things. Sometimes, starting small is the only way to stand tall later."
For the first time that afternoon, Soojin allowed herself a faint spark of hope. The warmth of their voices, the careful thought in their words, gave her courage. Maybe, just maybe, she could take that first step—one careful, supported step—toward standing on her own.
The next morning, Min Hyunn arrived at the market just outside the city where he had learned the client would be visiting. The stalls bustled with vendors selling fruits, fish, and daily necessities, but his attention was elsewhere. He spotted them—two men he had only seen in company memos—examining a stall with interest.
He approached cautiously, rehearsing his words in his mind. "Good morning," he said, forcing a casual smile. "I didn't expect to see you here. The market's lively today, isn't it?"
One of the men glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "Ah... yes. Busy morning. Are you... familiar with this area?"
"I just moved here recently," Min Hyunn replied, keeping his tone light. "I was hoping to learn about local suppliers. It's fascinating how much detail goes into selecting goods for the city."
They exchanged polite nods, and Min Hyunn slowly steered the conversation toward the products, subtly asking what qualities they valued most. He listened carefully, letting them speak freely, occasionally offering observations that made him seem knowledgeable without revealing his youth or inexperience.
"Ah, you understand exactly what we're looking for," one of the men said, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "Most people don't notice the little details we care about."
Min Hyunn smiled quietly. "It's easy when you know what to look for. Sometimes, the right product isn't about price, but about understanding the client's real needs."
The conversation drifted naturally from the stalls to ongoing projects in the city, and Min Hyunn carefully planted hints about his company's capabilities. He watched closely as their expressions shifted—small nods, subtle glances, interest sparked. Each moment felt like a victory, each laugh or agreement a step closer to earning their trust.
By the time they parted ways, the men seemed curious and cautiously optimistic. Min Hyunn walked away, heart pounding, a mix of relief and exhilaration washing over him. "Okay... I just need to follow up tomorrow," he muttered softly. "If I can show them we understand... maybe I can pull this off."
Even in the bustling market, surrounded by everyday life, Min Hyunn felt the weight of responsibility and the faint thrill of possibility. One careful, measured conversation had shifted the tide—just enough to give him hope, just enough to keep him moving forward.
Two cities. Two young lives. One chance each to survive—and each step could lead them closer to their dreams or further into uncertainty. The paths were theirs to navigate, and every small decision mattered. Will these opportunities become the turning points they hoped for, or will life test them in ways they can't yet imagine? Only the days ahead would reveal the answer.
Two young hearts, one chance each—can courage and hope be enough to survive a world that tests them at every turn?