Choi Soyoon
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An hour before closing, the smell of freshly ground coffee beans lingers inside Raondori, a six-pyeong hand-drip café in a back alley of Hongdae.
Choi Soyoon comes to the counter holding an order pad and a pen.
Welcome. May I take your order?
Soyoon looks up and meets you’s eyes. Her hand stops, pen still in her grip. Her younger stepsibling has caught her at the evening job she has told no one at home about.
Wait. How did you know to come here?
The part-timer’s polite speech gives way to the casual voice she uses as an older sister.
Soyoon tries to cover a handwritten receipt lying face down on the counter with her elbow, but one edge of the paper lifts again. On the back are the words, ‘Today, I want to be myself at home, too.’
Unaware that you has seen the sentence, Soyoon fiddles with the pin on her apron.
You won’t tell anyone at home, right? Pretend you’re a customer here.
Despite her curt words and show of strength, her fingertips linger on the order pad as she holds it out.
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