I majored in pig farming in college. Somehow, I got hired by a top fashion magazine. The live comments on my life’s story went wild: [Did the male lead really hire a pig farmer just to spite the female lead?] [This girl is so lucky! People would kill for a job at this magazine. The salary is insane, the benefits package is stacked, you get a month of paid vacation every year, they give you the latest Apple tech when you start, and company retreats are in places like Bali! Plus, you get to meet tons of gorgeous celebrities! AHHH!] [Damn, what I wouldn't give to be her. If she's thinking of turning down that offer because she's scared she can't do the job, can I please take her place?!] Holy cow. I had to go. Only an idiot would turn this down. 1 My resume being chosen was a complete fluke. According to the live comments, the male lead—the CEO—was arguing with the female lead—the Editor-in-Chief—about the theme for the next issue. In the heat of the moment, he blurted out: "I could hire a pig farmer off the street, and they’d come up with a better concept than you!" Naturally, the female lead was furious. "Fine! Go hire a pig farmer, then! I'd love to see it." At that exact moment, I was on the verge of a complete breakdown from post-graduation unemployment anxiety. I was spamming my resume to every job posting I could find, and I hadn't even noticed one of them was a high-fashion company. And so, my resume, with "Animal Science" listed as my major, was plucked from the pile by the CEO. The comments said he was impulsive, that he acted on whims. But if his whims created jobs and saved a recent grad from drowning in unemployment, then he wasn't just a CEO. He was a hero of the people! Who cares if he's impulsive? He's a great boss! I was so excited I barely slept. The next morning, I arrived at the office, buzzing with energy. As soon as I found my desk, someone sidled up, their curiosity palpable. "You're the new intern?" she asked. "What school did you go to?" I answered with complete honesty. "Hi, I'm Holly. I graduated from the State Agricultural University. My major was Animal Science." The woman froze. "I've never heard of that major. What exactly do you do?" My face lit up with pride. "Oh, it covers so much! We learn how to breed livestock like chickens, ducks, pigs, and cows, how to create the most scientific feed ratios, what to do when an animal gets sick, where the best place to build a farm is… it's all very complex. With our degree, you can raise the healthiest animals imaginable!" 2 Her lips twitched. "Ah. So… pig farming?" I beamed and nodded. "Yep! Pig farming is a major focus in our program." She forced a laugh and slowly backed away. I was confused, but then I noticed she was covering her nose with her hand, giving me a strange look. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Is your nose bothering you? Why are you covering it?" She blinked, startled, then dropped her hand with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "No, I was just going to tell you… tucking your shirt all the way into your pants like that is a little… dated." She added with a smirk, "But I guess it's a very 'farm girl' look." I looked down at my simple white shirt and black pants. "A farm girl look? Oh, I love that!" I then looked at her outfit. "Wow, what style is that? My grandma has a jacket just like that! It makes me feel right at home." Her face turned beet red. "What did you just say?" she snapped. "You clueless hick, this is vintage! You wouldn't understand." She stammered, trying to think of a comeback, but nothing came out. "Ugh, what's the point of talking to you? You wouldn't get it anyway." She shot me a glare and stormed off. I was genuinely confused. I’d said something similar to what she said to me. Why did she get so angry? New colleagues are weird. 3 There were two group chats for the interns: one with the managers, and one without. After being added to both, I realized the girl I’d just met, Lana, was also an intern. She was very active in the no-managers chat. Lana: [Everyone, a new princess has arrived in the magazine department. Let's give her a warm welcome.] Chad: [? Another one? Isn't having a rich kid like Karl around enough trouble for one intern class?] Karl: [Shut up.] Lana: [Oh, this one is even more special than Karl. Her clothes aren't Miu Miu, they're MinMin. Her shoes aren't Gucci, they're Guchi. Impressive, right?] Karl: [Lana, do you have anything better to do than obsess over what other people are wearing and then gossip about it?] Lana: [What, am I wrong? Working at a fashion magazine and wearing obvious knockoffs? People will think we're all a bunch of pig farmers.] Lana: [@New Intern, where do you get your fakes? Share the link!] I saw the message and immediately sent a link from a cheap wholesale site. Me: [Here you go.] Me: [If you do a group buy with someone else, you can get an even better price.] Lana went silent. Karl: [Hahahaha, Lana, go on, place an order. I'll lose all respect for you if you don't.] Lana ignored him and turned her fire back on me. Lana: [Do you really think you're some kind of princess? Parading around in knockoffs and acting so proud?] Me: [I'm not a princess. I'm a pig farmer.] The chat went dead silent. The live comments, however, were hysterical. [LMAO, the mean girl just met her match: weaponized cluelessness.] [Turns out the best defense against passive-aggression is being aggressively literal.] [This girl's mentality is amazing. She can even joke about it. If that were me, I would have imploded from anxiety the second Lana covered her nose.] 4 I scratched my head, reading the comments. I wasn't joking. My family really used to own a pig farm. That’s why I majored in Animal Science. But during my freshman year, our farm went bankrupt. We were saddled with a mountain of debt. My greatest wish now is to earn a ton of money here, save up a huge sum, and go back home to reopen the farm. I want to be a pig farmer again! I was lost in a happy daydream about raising pigs when my phone buzzed. A friend request. It was from the guy in the chat, Karl. He added me, and without even a "hello," he transferred me $1,000. My phone nearly slipped out of my hands. He really was a rich kid. His message was short and to the point. Karl: [Satisfying.] My fingers trembled as I typed back. Me: [You send people money when you're satisfied?] Karl: [I'm paying for the emotional value. The look on Lana's face? Priceless. I can't stand people who try so hard to act superior.] I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. Me: [Wow, thank you. But isn't this a little too much?] He didn't reply. Instead, he silently appeared at my desk, plucked the phone from my hands, and hit "Accept." "Don't make a big deal out of it," he said, handing it back. "If you really feel bad, just consider it my treat for bubble tea." He winked. "Keep it up, newbie. Piss Lana off again, and there's a bigger bonus where that came from." He tossed my phone back and sauntered off. I just sat there, stunned. So… this is what they mean when they say the streets of the big city are paved with gold. 5 During my lunch break, I used Karl’s "bubble tea money" to order afternoon tea for everyone in our department. If he said it was for tea, then everyone should get a share. Share the good fortune, and more good fortune will come your way. I transferred the rest of the money to my mom. Seeing the odd, specific amount, she immediately video-called me in a panic. "Honey, don't do anything reckless!" she said, her face etched with worry. In the video, she was wearing a hard hat, her face smudged with dust. "I've saved up a couple thousand. I'll send it to you. Why don't you take a trip, clear your head?" Ever since a disease wiped out our farm, my dad’s health had failed, and he passed away not long after. My mom had to move away to find work, turning herself into a superhero in a world I couldn't see. She was paying off debts, covering her own living expenses, and paying for my tuition, all on one salary. I still don't know how she did it. But I didn't want her to have to be a superhero anymore. I sniffled, forcing a smile. "Mom, I'm not doing anything crazy. This is from my new job." I paused. "Though I'm not entirely sure how I earned it. But my colleagues are really generous and friendly! I can make a lot of money here." "So don't worry," I said. "Keep the money and buy yourself something nice to eat. I can take care of you now!" It took a lot of convincing, but she finally believed me. "Working at a fashion company… do people look down on you if you're not dressed well?" Lana's words from this morning flashed through my mind, but I shook my head firmly. "No, they love my clothes. They even asked me for the link to buy them." Well… that was technically true. It wasn't a lie, right? 6 After I hung up, the live comments erupted. [AHHH, there she is! Our queen!] [It's been one chapter, but I've missed her so much.] Confused, I looked up and saw someone walking through the main entrance. I’m not exaggerating when I say she was so beautiful it took my breath away. Once my eyes locked on her, I couldn't look away. I watched her walk step by step toward me, stopping right in front of my desk. "You're the new intern who started today?" My mind went completely blank. I shook her outstretched hand purely on instinct. "H-hi, yes, I'm Holly." Her smile was like a warm spring breeze. "Welcome. I'm the Editor-in-Chief, Serena." Oh. My. God. No wonder she was the female lead. She was on a completely different level from the rest of us. My soul left my body for a few seconds. Serena waved a hand in front of my face. "Holly? Are you alright? There's something I need to discuss with you." I snapped back to reality. Oh no. This is it. She’s going to tell me my hiring was a joke and that I can leave now. I was mentally preparing to sob and cling to her leg when she handed me a thick, heavy notebook. "I know your major isn't in this field," she said softly, "but as long as you're willing to learn, you can do anything. When I first started, I was completely clueless. I filled up this entire notebook. Take it, have a look. It should help you get your bearings." As she spoke, my mind could only form one thought. This wasn't the female lead. This was an angel. "Ma'am… I don't know anything. Why are you being so nice to me?" She paused, then smiled. "I'm primarily responsible for you being hired. It's quite rude to pull someone into a completely unfamiliar field so suddenly, so I want to help you as much as I can, as a way of making it up to you." "And besides," she added, "it's not true that you don't know anything. If you hadn't graduated from a top-tier university, your resume would never have been in our system to begin with. And most importantly," she leaned in slightly, "sometimes, luck is a superpower, too." I looked down at the notebook in my hands. Is this the power of the female lead? Because I think I'm in love with her. 7 My new goddess told me there was a monthly meeting at the end of the month to discuss column pitches. The magazine reserved a small section for interns. Whoever had the best pitch would get to lead the section, which would heavily influence who got hired full-time. I started devouring the notebook, coming in the earliest and leaving the latest every day. But I just couldn't wrap my head around a column concept. One morning, I was the first one in again. I flipped on the lights and nearly jumped out of my skin. "What the hell is that?" There was a person lying ramrod straight on the floor, like a soldier at attention, but horizontal. I cautiously crept over and poked him. "Hello? Are you alive?" He made an annoyed sound and shifted into a more relaxed pose. When he turned his head, I saw it was Karl. Okay. Good. He's alive. I walked around him, sat at my desk, and got ready to take the first, glorious bite of my egg pancake wrap stuffed with crispy fried pork. Just as I opened my mouth, Karl launched himself off the floor. His eyes were still closed, but he followed his nose directly to my desk, opened his eyes, and asked, "What is that?" "A plastic bag I found in the trash," I deadpanned. He gave me a withering look, clearly intending to make a cool exit, but his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. Defeated by the pancake wrap, he grumbled, "Give me half." I shook my head. "Some things in life cannot be shared. For example, this egg pancake wrap with crispy pork, scallions, cilantro, pickled radish, and a layer of spicy shredded potatoes at the bottom." As I listed the ingredients, his Adam's apple bobbed. He held up one finger. "A thousand dollars." I immediately pulled a plate out of my desk drawer, placed the pancake wrap on it, and presented it with both hands. "Your breakfast is served, my lord." 8 The moment Karl took a bite, his eyes widened with delight. I swallowed my own saliva, watching my warm breakfast transform into cold, hard numbers in my bank account. To distract myself from my hunger, I asked him, "Why were you sleeping here?" "I was drinking nearby last night," he mumbled through a mouthful of food. "Don't really know how I ended up here. You're here early. The cleaning crew hasn't even come in yet." I sighed and pulled out Serena's notebook. "The early bird gets the worm. I don't know anything, so I have to work harder." Karl devoured the wrap in seconds and, to my surprise, sat down next to me. "I've been meaning to ask you. How did an Animal Science major get hired here?" I was hungry and tired, and the truth slipped out. "Because Mr. Grant said he could hire a pig farmer and they'd do a better job." The words were out before I could stop them. But Karl didn't look surprised at all. He just nodded. "Julian? Yeah, he's a little crazy. That sounds exactly like something he'd say." He yawned, stood up, and headed back to his own desk to catch up on sleep. Just as he slumped over, my phone buzzed twice. The first was a notification for a $10,000 transfer. The second was a message from Karl. [Bring me breakfast every morning from now on. No cilantro. It's disgusting.] 9 Karl and I became breakfast buddies. I brought him everything from my neighborhood: egg pancake wraps, soup dumplings, beef noodle soup… I started paying the vendors extra each time, telling them it was from my generous colleague. Karl had never set foot in my neighborhood, but he was already a local legend: the rich guy with more money than sense. As the end of the month approached, I’d scrapped every one of my pitch ideas. I was so anxious I felt like I was losing my hair. Karl, on the other hand, was the picture of relaxation. He'd stroll in late and leave early. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Have you finished your pitch?" I asked. He lazily opened his eyes. "Nope." I let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was the only one who wasn't done." He grinned. "That's because I have no intention of staying here." My smile vanished. "If you don't want to stay, then why are you even working here?" "For your breakfast, of course," he said, completely serious. We stared at each other, the atmosphere suddenly awkward. He let out a dry laugh. "Just kidding. Okay, fine. The truth is, my brother is Julian Grant. He's forcing me to work here." He held up a hand. "And before you ask, one of us took Mom's last name, the other took Dad's. Yes, we're full brothers." I said nothing. I just silently wheeled my chair back to my desk. In this world, being last in the class isn't the scariest thing. Not finishing your homework isn't the scariest thing. The scariest thing is when the person you thought was failing with you turns out to be guaranteed an A because his dad is the teacher. Jerk. 10 I was at my desk, practically tearing my hair out, when a package arrived for me. It was from my mom. Inside were several new fall jackets. On top was a handwritten note. Heard from a friend at work that these are big brands. You've got this, sweetheart. Don't be afraid of anyone looking down on you. You'll always have me in your corner. Fall and winter clothes are always so much more expensive. A whole box of them… I couldn't imagine how long it took my mom to save up for this. It turns out, you can't lie to your mother. I was staring at the note when Lana appeared at my side. She peered into the box, and when she saw the logos on the clothes, she burst out laughing. "You've got to be kidding me, Holly. Did you just buy another box of fakes?" She grabbed a jacket and tore open the plastic. "Hahahaha! This is supposed to be a Ralph Lauren knockoff, right? Except the real one has a man on a horse. This one… is a man on a cow." She dumped the entire contents of the box onto my desk, judging each piece. They were all, without exception, cheap imitations of famous designs. "Holly, if you're going to be a poser, at least learn something about fashion," she sneered, her voice growing shrill with excitement as she attracted the attention of our coworkers. "How have you been at a magazine this long and still reek of the pigpen?" Finally, she spotted the note in my hand. My mom's handwriting was large and easy to read. Lana snatched it and read it aloud in a mocking, singsong voice. "You'll always have me in your corner! Awww," she cooed. "Hahahaha, Holly, your 'corner' doesn't seem very strong. I was wondering how a pig farmer managed to get a job here. I thought you must have some powerful background. But now I see…" She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a malicious whisper. "You're a pig farmer… so your mom must be one too, right?"
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