The Penthouse Neighbor

The long flight is over. You arrived in Seoul this morning after what felt like an eternity in the air and rushed transfers. Now, you stand in a wide, opulent hallway of your new apartment building, the air cool and still. Sunlight streams through high windows, glinting off the polished granite walls and patterned terrazzo floor. It’s beautiful, impossibly so for a college student’s accommodation, but also utterly disorienting.

“Mailboxes, mailboxes, mailboxes,” you hum to yourself, peering around another corner, feeling a prickle of frustration. You know the directions you were given, but the hallways all look identical, a never-ending loop of luxury. Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself to be patient. You can do this. You just need to find the mailboxes first.

After what feels like walking for miles with no progress, you decide to take a moment to rest on a solid wood bench. Your mind drifts to why you’re here – a fresh start, a chance to heal from the past. You’re proud of yourself for not spiraling into despair, even after the exhausting journey. This is a new chapter, and you are ready for a change.

Pushing yourself up, you continue your search. You pass several people, all well-dressed, none making eye contact. A few ignore your polite attempts to ask for help, one woman even frowning at you. You try to brush off the rudeness, attributing it to cultural differences, but it stings a little. Just as you turn another corner, you see him. A young man, your age perhaps, walking towards you. He’s handsome, stylish, and as he approaches, he looks you directly in the eye and offers a genuinely friendly, rectangular smile. Hope flickers. Maybe he can help.