Main Characters in the Story:
*Kim So Hyun as "Athena" Myung-hee Park
*Tom Hiddleston as Himself
Minor Characters in the story
*Brenna D'Amico as Marilyn Rivera
*Robert Blanche as Mr. Ferucci
*Tyler James Williams as Eric
*Ranbir Kapoor as Robert
*Cha Seung-Won as Park Woo-bin {Myung-hee's father}
*Woo Hee-Jin as Park Eun-hye {Myung-hee's mother}
Chapter VII: It's Just Like Every Other Saturday
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"EOM-MA-YA! {OH MY GOD!}" My abeoji {father} shouted. "Dangsin-eun amugeosdo hal su eobs-eo?! {Can't you do anything right?!}"
"Dagchyeo, Woo-bin! Dangsin-i deo jalhal su-issneun geoscheoleom! {Shut up, Woo-bin! Like you could do any better!} Nega eoliseog-eun jeonhwaleulhaneun geosgwa gat-eun munjega issdamyeon, bil-eo meog-eul biseoleul wae goyonghaji anhni?! {If you have such a problem with the way I take your stupid-ass calls, why don't you hire a goddamn secretary?!}"
"Naega gajil yeoyuga eobsgi ttaemun-e! geulaeseo naega neoleul pil-yolo hangeoya, Eun-hye! {Because there are none I can afford! That's why I need you for it, Eun-hye!}"
"Geuleon da-eum geugeos-e daehae bulpyeong-eul geuman dusibsio! {Then stop complaining about it all the damn time!}"
I sit there on the floor, hugging my panda bear tightly and watching my parents yell at each other. I don't know what's going on, or why they're yelling. I just sit there quietly and watch them.
There's no sign of them stopping, and I'm on the brink of crying. "Eomma? {Mommy?}" I say, my voice sounding like a two-year-old's.
My eomeoni {mother} looks at me, then back at her husband. "Dodaeche! {What the hell!} Neo uli agi ap-eseo na hante soli jileugoiss-eo? {You've been yelling at me in front of our baby?}" She starts coming towards me.
"Naega yuilhaessdeon geoscheoleom, neo babo gat-eun jasig! {Like I was the only one, you stupid bitch!}"
She picked me up and carried me into the living room. She sat on one of the couches and starting shushing me, telling me everything will be fine. "Waenchanh-a, Myung-hee {It's okay, Myung-hee.} Gwaenchanh-a, jagiya. Eommawa Appaneun bang-geum iyagihagoiss-eossseubnida. {It's okay, baby. Mommy and Daddy were just talking.} Mianhae jagiya. Saranghae-yo, Myung-hee. Nae jag-eun Athena. Athena {I'm sorry, baby. I love you, Myung-hee. My little Athena. Athena.}"
"Athena." My mother's voice was a man's now. "Athena. Athena. Hey!"
A splash of cold water hits my face. I snap back to consciousness in a panic, breathing heavily. I slowly look up. "Hi, Mr. Ferucci."
"Yeah. Good morning. It's almost nine o'clock. So get out."
I scrambled to my feet, using the toilet to support my weight as I pushed myself up. I smooth out my clothes and my hair. "Right. I'm sorry, Mr. Ferucci. I was-"
"I don't care. Just get out." He leaves the stall and exits the bathroom.
Nice to see you too, Mr. Ferucci. I grab my shoulder bag and sling it over my shoulder. I took out my tooth brush and toothpaste and moved over to the sink. The first thing I do is look at my hair in the mirror. It's messier than usual. "Damn it." I say, running my fingers through it. My last brush broke, and I haven't been able to afford another one.
After brushing my teeth and fixing my hair as much as possible, I exit the bathroom and enter the restaurant.
There are a few customers sitting at tables, talking, laughing and looking at the menus. I wave to the staff members, who wave back to me with smiles on their faces. Eric, a tall dark-skinned waiter handing the chef an order, quickly makes a motion with his head, signaling for me to go to him.
I walk around the counter to where he is.
"Good morning, Athena." Eric says.
"Good morning too, Eric." I say.
"How was your sleep?"
Here we go. The same routine I've gotten every day since I started spending nights here. It's a "Hi, then "How was your sleep?" then "Where you headed today?" then he gives me at least three reasons why I should go home.
"It was fantastic, Eric." I answered. "The cold-ass floor really takes my attention off the smell of the toilets."
"No one told you to pick Remo's, of all places. If anything, the library is your warmest chance. So where you headed today?"
I rolled my eyes. Did I predict it or what? "I don't know. Anywhere. I guess."
He shakes his head in what looks like disappointment and lets out a sigh. "You know, you should really go home."
"Please, Eric. Not this again. Just leave it alone."
"I'm just saying they'd be psyched to see you."
"I am not going home!"
"How can someone live nine years without their parents and not miss them?"
"Easy. You get used to it, then you get over it."
He opens his mouth to say something, but ends up keeping his mouth shut. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black container.
I look at it, not sure what it is.
"Here, I got this from the freezer. Take it."
I slowly reach for it and take it from him. It's freezing cold, the icy condensed water making my hand shiver. I open the top, and I nearly lose my mind.
It has sweets! Cookies, brownies, M&Ms, and ice cream, but not just any ice cream. It has my ultimate favorite flavor, strawberry. I haven't had ice cream in a year. It sounds ridiculous, but it true. Every time I had enough money for it, something would get in the way. Whether it was because I need new clothes or medication, my pocket would be drained.
"It's not exactly breakfast, but it's all I could sneak out."
"No, no." I bring my bag in front of me and unzip it. "It's fine. Perfect actually, thanks."
"You're welcome. Well, I'll see you later."
"Alright. Bye, Eric." I headed towards the door.
"And don't get arrested." He adds.
"Eom-ma-ya, {Oh my god,} it was one time." I push the door open and exit the restaurant.
The streets of downtown are already packed with people. Parents pushing their kids in strollers, teens smoking cigarettes outside the convenience stores; it's just like every other Saturday. I start walking towards the closest clothing store: Burlington Factory. I've stolen so much clothing from them to sell on the streets. I've made good money off of them, and I think I could use some more money today.
I walk in through the front door and head to the clothing section for women. I already spot clothes that would look good to… Gidalim. Naneun mueongaleul ijgo issni? Geuligo naneun gieoghanda. {Wait. Am I forgetting something? And then I remember.}
Eom-ma-ya. {Oh my god.} I have lunch with Tom Hiddleston today. Uwa {Wow}, how often do I get to say that?
I have three hours to get an outfit together. That's more time than I need. I can find something in twenty minutes and spend the rest of my time selling stuff. I look through the numerous choices of clothing, constantly keeping my eye on the security cameras. Sure, they can see a wider range than we think, but they're constantly rotating. If I'm quick, and I am very quick, I could snatch them off the hangers and into my bag before they have a chance to make it a full 180 degrees.
I'm done in half an hour, longer than I expected. I took off the tags and security tags in the dressing rooms. I now have three dresses, four pairs of jeans, seven shirts and twelve items from the fake jewelry department. I'm glad the years stretched out this shoulder bag enough. I'm about to leave the store when I hear someone calling my name.
"Athena! Athena!"
I look around, searching for the person calling my name.
Marilyn is hurrying towards me, arms weighed down with least ten bags. She's smiling so hard, I'm surprised her face hasn't ripped in half. "Hey, Athena." She says.
I look around, hoping there's another Athena around here. I guess not. "Uh, hi." I reply with a nervous smile.
"How did your day go yesterday? I hope I didn't ruin it."
I shug. "No, you didn't. It was a pretty good day." I look at her hair. It's dark purple today. "I see you changed your hair color."
She shakes her head yes. "And I finally cut him off for good."
"Good. I'm glad. Hopefully now, he won't bother you."
"Yeah I know."
We just stand there awkwardly, not saying a word. What would we have to say? Yesterday was the only time I've ever spoken to her.
Finally growing tired of the silence, I decided to say something. "Well, it's nice to see you again, but I should get going. Bye." I leave Marilyn and exit the store. Damn, it's cold out here. I should've picked up a winter coat. Good thing I got one sweater, maybe it will be a bit useful for the cold.
"Hey, wait up!" the second of heels clicking against the sidewalk follows me.
I let out a sigh and turn around to find Marilyn coming towards me again. Geunyeoneun jigeum mueos-eul wonhabnikka? {What does she want now?}
"I was wondering if you wanted to go get breakfast or something as a thank you for yesterday."
I raise an eyebrow. "It wouldn't be as a… you know…"
"What? No, no, no! Not a date!" She laughs. "No, it's not a date. You just don't realize how much you helped me with yesterday. Everyone gave up trying to help me with that problem. I never thought the person I never spoke to could give me so much help. So, as a totally not-a-weird thing, do you want to get some breakfast?"
I think about it. How much do I have? Damn it, I spent it all on the salad from McDonald's yesterday. Wait, this means I'm broke? Eom-ma-ya. {Oh my god}. I should have taken more clothes. I don't like charging high prices. "It sounds nice, but I don't have any money. I can't."
"Oh, don't worry. Like I said yesterday, I have plenty of money. I'll pay."
Eh? Mulyo sigsa? {Free meal?}. "If it's fine with you, then sure. Sounds good."
"Perfect. Let me just call for my ride to come here, and we'll go now."
"Okay." I couldn't have helped her this well. Is this some kind of a joke or something? I bet one of her friends put her up to it. They probably dared her to take the loser out to eat or something. This is probably just a one-time thing.
We waited ten minutes for her ride "ride". What will her mom say? Will she be okay driving her daughter around with an almost-complete stranger? I wonder what kind of car they own. Maybe it's a Mercedes. I love the Mercedes cars.
Just then, Marilyn starts waving at a car.
I look in the direction she's looking. Which one is it? They're all blocked by a huge black stretch limo.
The limo carefully drives over to where Marilyn and I are standing. The windows roll down, revealing an indian man in the driver's seat. "Hello, Miss Rivera."
Daeche mwoya… {What in the hell…}
"Hello, Robert. What happened to Maxwell?"
"He wasn't feeling well, so I took over." He gets out of the driver's side and comes around to our side. He opens the door.
Marilyn goes first, sliding onto the seat.
How much freaking money does she have, exactly? There was nothing said about her ride being a damn limousine. I slide in next to Marilyn, the door closing after me. "Uh, Marilyn. When you say 'plenty of money', what exactly do you mean? Because I thought you meant you had enough money to repaint your house at least twice a year."
"Please. Repaint our mansion twice a year? Only Bill can afford that."
"Mansion? As in a big-ass house envied by all who can't afford."
She laughs. "Yeah, I guess you could put it that way. You never knew I was rich?"
"This is the craziest thing I've ever said to you. I don't exactly know you."
"But it was in the paper. You know, 'Jackson Rivera Wins 2.5 Billion-Dollars Lottery.' It was in the news January of last year.
"No. unfortunately, I missed that issue."
"Oh well, now you know. So where do you wanna go so I can tell Robert."
There's only one place I ever loved to go to for breakfast. "Um, how about IHOP?"
"Ooh! I love that place! I was hoping you would pick it. Robert, can you please take us to IHOP?"
"Sure. Miss Rivera."
I then realize something she said before. "Whoa, wait. When you said 'Bill' before, were you referring to Bill Gates?"
"Yep."
"And you just refer to him as 'Bill' like he's a friend or something."
"Well, he is a friend."
"Seriously? You are friends with Bill Gates."
"Our whole family is."
I could cry right about now. "How in God's name did you get to be friends with Bill Gates?"
"Well, we met at a yacht party in November…"
