3.

*beep*--a continuous beep echoing the room.

As I lay peacefully in the embrace of sleep, a sudden jolt disrupted the tranquility of the room—a notification sound that sliced through the silence. With a groan escaping my lips, I reluctantly emerged from the cocoon of dreams. The annoyance lingered as I stretched myself, a protest against the untimely intrusion that had torn me from the soothing realms of slumber.

In my minimalistic corner, I discovered my bed in a bit of a mess – a clear sign of rushed mornings. The once-neat white sheets were now crumpled, casualties of hasty movements. With a determined sigh, I resolved to rectify the situation. The three monitors and a laptop on one side of my bed were still because I had forgotten to switch them off, opting to collapse into bed after a tiring night. I was so fatigued that finishing the project I had been diligently working on for the past few weeks seemed like an insurmountable task.

Finally mustering the energy, I stood up, and the gentle morning light gradually softened the chaos in the room. To the left of my bed was a cozy spot, featuring a sleek sofa, a simple table, and shelves filled with my favorite books. What truly stood out, however, were the trio of computer monitors, silently buzzing with technological life.

Navigating through the controlled chaos, I approached my bed. Slowly, I began smoothing out the wrinkles on the sheets, each tug and pull a purposeful act. My monitors and laptop, a companion during late nights, are placed on the other side of my bed, silently observing my morning ritual which is cleaning my messy room because mom nags at me if I don’t clean the room. As I tucked in the sheet edges and fluffed the pillows, the room regained its clean, uncluttered look. On the other side, the wardrobe stood, doors closed, hiding away a carefully curated collection.

With the bed now neatly arranged, a collective sigh seemed to echo through the room, and a calmness settled in. The minimalistic vibe, a perfect blend of practicality and style, was back—a reminder that finding peace often lies in the simple details.

But then, a notification from my phone interrupted my post-cleaning serenity. It was a message from the group chat that the girls I work with had added me to. Latrice, one of them, suggested bringing the team together to improve collaboration. The chat started with friendly and slightly funny introductions from everyone, creating a positive vibe. I couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter between Emma and Audrey.

Engrossed in my phone, I reluctantly left my room, making my way to the living room. The screen's glow kept my attention, blurring the transition from personal to shared space. It felt like a hesitant journey.

Thankfully, no accidents occurred on my distracted walk to the kitchen. There, I found my mom preparing a Full English Breakfast, my favorite. The smell of bacon, sausages, eggs, mushrooms, beans, toast, and black pudding filled the air. Unable to resist, I surprised my mom with a quick morning kiss.

"Hey! You shocked me!" she exclaimed, clearly surprised.

"Morning, Mom!" I greeted her with a smile, taking a seat and enjoying the contrast between our breakfast preferences—my English feast and her beloved Korean dishes. 

“You literally will give me a seizure someday,” Mom said, setting a steaming bowl of kimchi stew on the table before making herself comfortable in a vacant chair. She then began savoring her meal, and I decided to start my morning with a sip of coffee before digging into the sausages. My phone caught my eye next to the plate, prompting me to greet the girls in our group chat. The screen's brightness momentarily blinded me as I typed a message, but there was no immediate reply. Setting the phone aside, I turned my attention to the delicious sausages, their juiciness and hint of spice earning an approving nod.

In my peripheral vision, I noticed my mom watching me with a mixture of pride and amusement as I enjoyed her culinary creation. However, a thought crossed my mind that could potentially disrupt the tranquil morning.

“Mom,” I said between bites.

“Hmm?”

My gaze shifted to her, and I paused before continuing. She was immersed in the flavors of the kimchi stew, and I hesitated, debating whether it was the right time to bring up the sensitive topic of my father. Mom seemed unusually peaceful this morning, a stark contrast to her usual complaints about my daily chores. Nevertheless, I decided to proceed.

“The company I used to work for was founded by Dad,” I disclosed, a weight settling in my chest. I studied her expression, anticipating a reaction. However, she remained focused on her meal, seemingly unfazed. “Aren't you nervous about this? It feels like he's making another move to undermine us.”

Mom lifted her gaze, her blue eyes meeting mine with a calm demeanor. “Your father is a complex man. He's not one to engage in direct confrontations. It's like he's playing a game, and we're just pieces on the board.”

“A chess game, you say.”

Mom agreed, nodding between bites of her food. “Yes. And do the things I've taught you all these years without the influence of your father. I don’t want my sacrifices to be in vain just because you lose his little game, Y\n.”

“I know that,” I replied quietly, my focus shifting to the plate in front of me.

Perhaps sensing my indifference, Mom spoke again. “Don’t dwell on your father; it only brings you misery. Focus on how you handle things at work and how you'll confront your father if he tries to sabotage you. You're a strong girl, Y\n. Just like me.”

I chuckled faintly, my gaze now drawn to the messages that popped up on my phone. Kirsten had replied, greeting me a good morning. “Yeah, I know, Mom.”

We finished our breakfast talking about something, either my life or my mom. Mostly, Mom was always the one to talk about her business she ran. She shares stories about different customers she encounters. After we finished, I decided to change into my gym clothes, opting for a simple black compression shirt and jogging pants. With a quick goodbye, I hopped into the car and headed to the gym, ready for an intense workout.

The gym welcomed me with the familiar hum of activity. I kicked off my session with a series of exercises, focusing on my shoulders, arms, and core. The cool metal of the weights felt reassuring in my hands as I completed three sets of twelve reps for each workout. Each lift and stretch was a deliberate effort, the burn in my muscles a testament to the dedication I brought to my routine.

In the rhythm of my workout, I found a momentary escape from the complexities of life. The gym became a sanctuary, a place where the only focus was on the repetitive motion and the challenge of pushing myself further. The familiar clinks and clanks of the weights provided a rhythmic soundtrack to my exercise, and with each set, I felt a renewed sense of energy and accomplishment.

As I approached the big mirror, the echoes of my breath seemed to synchronize with the thumping beats in the background. With a determined exhale, I removed my compression shirt, revealing only my sports bra. In that reflective moment, I observed the physical changes my dedication had wrought — the toned muscles, the glistening sweat, and the strength etched into every line of my body. It wasn't just a view of the exterior but a glimpse into the resilience and determination that fueled my journey.

I flexed my muscles once more, a visual testament to the determination and hard work that had sculpted my body. With a decision fueled by pride, I resolved to capture my hard-earned physique in a video destined for Instagram. The gym's artificial lighting provided the perfect backdrop as I took multiple retakes, each one an attempt to showcase the culmination of my dedication.

After a few attempts, I managed to shoot a video that reflected the sweat, the strain, and the triumph in each flex. Accompanied by the caption "Flexing my hard-earned muscles," I posted it on Instagram, a digital milestone marking the physical gains of the day. Watching the video again, a swell of pride washed over me. It was more than a display of physical prowess; it was a tribute to the consistency and effort poured into my fitness journey.

As I walked to the locker area to gather my things, my phone beeped once. Taking a quick glance, I saw the notification: "Kirsten Dodgen liked your video."A simple yet surprising notification popped up: Kirsten Dodgen liked my video. I couldn't help but be amused and curious about why. As I grabbed my things from the locker area, it added a bit of unexpected joy to my day.

The next morning brought a new set of surprises. Stepping i