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 "Hello, I'm Dokgeo-norin, which means someone who has fun living alone.".

In this harsh world, do you all have the luxury of forgetting for a moment and looking up at the night sky? What do you think when you see the stars, like jewels embedded on a black canvas? 'Beautiful,' 'poignant'... that's good. But how about we try a slightly different imagination starting today? What if those stars are actually 'space office workers' just like us, commuting every morning (?) on crowded spaceships, sipping coffee while watching their boss's mood, and comforting themselves after work with "You worked hard shining today"?

Here, through the day of a very small star, 'Twinkle', who struggles daily somewhere in the distant night sky, I aim to unravel our life stories in a cheerful, warm, and sometimes stinging way. It's a story served with a spoon of laughter, two spoons of satire, and a generous ladle of comfort. So, shall we follow Twinkle's day together?

Prologue: A Preview of a Special Day for an Ordinary Star

I am a star. My name is 'Twinkle'. Just hearing the name might make me sound like a romantic being adorning the night sky without a care in the world, but the reality is a little, no, very different. Our world of stars is as competitive, arduous, and sometimes heartbreaking as the human world. Just as Earthlings start their day by seeing the morning sun, we wake up to the alarm sound of a supernova explosion, the 'Big Bang Corporation's' call to work.

My workplace is the 'Milky Way Sector 7 Management Headquarters'. My main task is to maintain the night sky of the planet Earth with appropriate brightness and emotional twinkling. Haha. This is not as easy as it sounds. It requires highly emotional labor, where the brightness must not be too conspicuous, and the twinkling must be adjusted precariously, as if synchronizing with the viewer's heart rate. The performance pressure is also considerable. Every month, awards like 'This Month's Most Romantic Starlight Award' and 'Star That Inspired the Most Wishes Award' are given out, and if you fall behind here, you're likely to be transferred to a remote nebula. That place... is like a graveyard for stars, where light pollution is so severe that our very existence fades.

Tomorrow is a very important day for me. It's the annual 'Earth Observation Performance Report Meeting'. I have to prove with concrete data how many people I have inspired, comforted, and guided over the past year. A sigh escapes me. Nowadays, Earthlings don't often look up at the night sky. They are only engrossed in the small light in their hands (smartphones) with their heads bowed. There's no way my performance will be good. Just thinking about being reprimanded by Manager Sirius, who is known for being prickly at the report meeting, already makes me feel like my light is dimming. Will I really be able to overcome this crisis and twinkle in a corner of the night sky next year? Can even a small, insignificant star like me become a meaningful light to someone? From now on, I want to tell you about my day, which is so ordinary yet so special, a day full of 'star quality'. Perhaps it will be surprisingly similar to your own day.

A Star's Story, "My Day" (Episodes 1-5) (Episode 1) The Gloomy Commute of a Starlight Intern

"Beep- beep-beep-! Sector 7 star system, Sector 7 star system. Those wishing to alight, please move towards the black hole in advance..." I barely opened my eyes to a voice more jarring than the loud alarm. No, 'turned on my light source' would be the more accurate expression. This is the 'Orion Express Train'. It's the only means of commute for 'dirt-poor stars' like me, living in the outer reaches of the Milky Way. It's called an express, but it's more like a local train that stops at every asteroid station. Today, once again, the train was packed with stars to the point of bursting. Squeezed among stars hundreds of millions of times brighter and hotter than me, I was truly a 'nobody'. Just trying to avoid being crushed by their immense heat and gravity used up half of my morning (?) energy. "Hey, rookie! Move aside, you're blocking my light!" Mr. Betelgeuse next to me grumbled, a frown etched on his face. He's on the verge of a supernova explosion, which in our company means he's eligible for early retirement. Being in his final years, he's become particularly sensitive and prickly. I shrank my body as much as possible and replied in a meek voice, "I'm sorry, senior." My light flickered slightly from sadness, but I held it in. If I had gotten emotional here, I could have been labeled an 'unstable star with severe mood swings' and received a disadvantage in my performance review. In our star world, 'perseverance' is ultimately a virtue. Hahaha! By the time I finally arrived at the company, 'Milky Way Sector 7 Management Headquarters', I was already exhausted. I quickly sat down at my desk and checked 'Today's Tasks'. 'Final review of Earth observation report', 'Patrol of asteroid collision risk areas', and... 'Make coffee for Manager Sirius (with the brightest beans, as dark as a black hole)'. The last item made me sigh. The manager, who calls himself the 'King of the Night Sky', is the absolute power in our sector. Crossing him meant my immediate demise. "Twinkle, is the report ready?" A sharp voice came from behind me. It was Manager Sirius. I shot up at the speed of light and bowed 90 degrees. "Yes, Manager! It's under final review!" "These Earthlings nowadays, they've become so lazy because they don't look at the night sky. Where do you think your salaries come from? It all comes from their 'emotions' and 'wishes'! Get your act together, or your position will be replaced by that comet intern over there in an instant!" Comets are temporary workers that appear and disappear in a flash. For me, a regular star, it was the most terrifying threat. I bowed even deeper. The faint light coming from my small body seemed to dim further. Perhaps I would never be able to shine in that night sky forever. In this vast universe, am I truly nothing more than a speck of dust? Tears, no, 'meteor showers', felt like they were about to fall from sorrow.

My thoughts! Do you sometimes feel incredibly small within a giant organization? But remember this: even the smallest star has its own unique light. Someone out there is looking at your small light to find their way, to find comfort, and to dream. You are never an 'insignificant' being. Every being you pass by without a thought has its own intense day. How about sending a warm gaze tonight to those who might be enduring the darkest hours for their brightest moments? Perhaps that single glance from you could become the greatest strength that illuminates a small star's tomorrow.