"Listen carefully, I won't allow that ragamuffin in my contest!" That woman definitely holds a grudge on me and my daughter. To be honest, I don't even know what's wrong with Jeongyeon's outfit.
It’s not like she’s wearing a trash bag. Why is a super tight miniskirt allowed on an eleven-year-old, but not a denim romper? And what’s the problem with her checkered shirt?
“Your contest? Just because you sponsor it, it doesn’t mean you can bully my daughter out of participating. If your precious little kid is afraid someone else will take her crown and needs to take out the competition that way, then it’s her problem, not mine!” I raise my voice as I realize that talking to that air-headed woman isn’t worth it.
I shouldn’t have listened to my wife. She thought the contest would be a good opportunity to let go of resentment against Hong Nahyeon, my number one rival at our old workplace, as well as the main reason for my current lack of a job. Instead, it only made things worse.
Nahyeon screeches, her veins pulsing. “Get out, both of you! The girls competing are all beautiful and valuable—not like that midget!” She points her finger at my daughter, while giving her a disgusted glare. Jeongyeon’s eyes fill with tears. This humiliation will only make her the target of bullying even more.
I decide to pull her out. She doesn’t deserve to be belittled by an insecure and superficial adult whose only way of educating her little missy is putting other people down. “Okay, we’re out of here. At least, Jeongyeon will spend time doing things that are actually valuable to her. Not like your daughter, who’s nothing but your puppet.”
I ignore Nahyeon’s pathetic growl, take Jeongyeon’s hand, and we both leave the building. My daughter pulls me in a hug. “Thank you, daddy. I would’ve embarrassed myself if I had taken part in that contest. Why don’t we go to the movies instead? We can ask Mom to reach us.”
I nod. For the first time today, we’re both truly happy.
