Why is this all happening to me alone? I was crying out through my inner self.
"Umm, Mr. Han, if you're free, shall we go?" Minjae was looking at me with a smile, fully expecting me to agree.
"Yes… yes, Mr. Kang," I nodded with a false smile.
"All the best, little fox. Take care of your character," Mi-Young whispered into my ear.
"I'll let you and Mr. Han be, Mr. Kang, then. You can enjoy your time," she said, and turned and ran off to rescue her ass.
Mi-Young, you little pest you just wait and see. I'll teach you a lesson soon.
"Mr. Han, shall we Minjae asked, gesturing toward the door.
"Oh… yes, yes, Mr. Kang," I nodded at him and followed his lead.
We both left the rooftop area and started walking toward the elevator lobby area, using the staircase we went down.
And, as we reached the elevator lobby, one elevator doors were already open almost as if they were waiting for us.
"Mr. Han, here," he gestured, pointing at the open elevator door.
I nodded and stepped inside along with him.
Just as the doors started to close, I started experiencing the most embarrassing moment of my life. The elevator was completely silent from the outside. But inside my tinny head, I was hosting a rock concert...
As, multiple thought were dancing in my head so I stared counting on the floor numbers lighting up one by one—15…14…13—as I waited for the ride to be over.
Finally, Minjae spoke up in his deep voice, breaking the silence.
So, well, Mr. Han, how long have you been with the company?" he asked.
"Oh, uh… this spring, I'll complete almost four years," I replied in a low pitch.
"Mm." He nodded.
"So Mr. Han, do you enjoy your job?"
"Yes! I do, because I love it. I love. fabrics. And clothes. And. thread."
Oh, wow, Jiwoo. Like, seriously have you completely lost it? I whispered to myself.
A corner of his mouth spasmed while he fought back a laugh.
"Umm… yeah. Thread is important," he said with a smirk.
Was that. a joke? Why, you punk.
I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and mad face, already ready to remove the shit out of him.
But before I could open my mouth, the elevator dinged and door opened.
Umm, this puck is lucky haa..
Only if the elevator hadn't dinged, I would have… I was thinking all this as if I could kick the ass of this six-foot-tall man.
"Mr. Han, you first," he gestured.
We both moved out of the elevator and started following him.
I trailed behind him down the broad corridor to the executive offices, listening to my own heels clicking away at the highly polished floor as if I were in a Korean drama series.
He suddenly slowed down and stopped.
He turned to me, his face an enigma.
"This is my cabin. Let's go inside."
"Oh—okay, Mr. Kang"
I froze the moment I entered.
His cabin was quite spacious when I had a 1 BHK apartment. The lighting, the interiors all of them. Even a bed. Is he eating and sleeping here alone?
As I was scanning the room, Minjae broke the silence.
"So, Mr. Han"
"Yes, Mr. Kang?" I said.
'I had been wanting to ask you something,' he said, looking at me with the same inscrutable gaze.
'This is partly why I asked you to come,' he said slowly.
"O-okay, Mr. Kang. Go
'Why did you put forward that sketch?' he asked, keeping a straight face.
Oh god. Oh god. He knows. He's going to say it. He's going to sayyou are..
"So… why did you turn in this particular sketch for the winter collection?"
I blinked.
"Huh
He tilted his head.
"The sketch you submitted last month. It… looks quite different from the usual ones you submit."
Oh. That sketch. My design sketch. Not the comic one.
"Uh… I— I just… felt inspired?" I stammered.
"You know… shapes. Textures. Un
He raised an eyebrow.
"Tension
I took a deep breath and started murmuring, like a toddler.
"I mean—fabric tension.. not other tension! The draping… of it al.. you know... naturally. you understand right , " I added with a smile.
Suddenly, a hint of a smile appeared in his face.
"I see. You're a very… passionate man about your job, Mr. Han. More than I thought."
Passionate. Great
He motioned for me to sit.
"So, I've reviewed your portfolio, Mr. Han," he said, sitting down in the chair directly in front of me.
He leaned slightly forward.
"You have… a unique style. I believe it could prove useful for a special project."
'A project?' I repeated, the question slipping into a curious tone.
"Yes," he said. "Something… bold
He reached for a folder and pushed it toward me.
The contents included pictures of patterns, designs, and event organization.
"This is for the anniversary exhibit of Nova Muse," he said.
"I want you to be part of the lead design team,"
I looked at the papers. Then at him. Then at the papers.
"Mr. Kang… you want me to create clothes for the Nova Muse commemorative show?"
"Yes, Mr. Han. You heard me right."
I made myself laugh.
"Oh! Yes! I'd be very honored, Mr. Kang."
He smiled faintly.
"Good. I like your spirit, Mr. Han."
Energy. Yeah, right. Oh, if he only knew. my energy is filled with anxiety at this moment.
As, we were both discussing, suddenly out of nowhere, he just got up from his chair and decided to walk towards me.
Huh? What is wrong with this kid, anyway, and why is he heading towards me?
When he stopped right in front of me, I could smell the little wood, oddly comforting fragrance from him and he raised his hand.
What the hell is he… going to hit me? Why is he raising his hand all of a sudden?
I stood up from the chair straight up, my heart pounding so fiercely that I was afraid thinking e might kill me today.
"And then suddenly, HE PATTED MY HAIR.
"Mr. Han, you're so clumsy. You had a flower petal on your head," he said with a faint smile.
Oh. A petal. Right. Totally normal. Not intimate at all.
However, why was his hand warm? And why is he looking at me with that look in his eyes? As if he is about to eat me alive.
For one fleeting moment, we both locked in eyes like those in Asian dramas. The space between us was just an inch, even with the air conditioning pumping out Arctic air.
Five seconds. Ten. Perhaps even more.
Then.
The sound of his ringing phone snapped him back into reality.
I came back to myself and straightened up.
Yay, Jiwoo. Together, now. You need to get it together. This isn't your show. And this isn't your Minjae. This one is "Kang Minjae" your CEO.
He looked briefly at the screen, his face becoming serious.
"…Okay. I'll be there
He hung up and turned to me.
"I have to attend to an urgent meeting. Mr. Han, I will have to leave now. We will talk later about this," he said.
Before I could say anything, and he started heading out, holding the phone to his ear.
Just before the door shut, he looked back.
Not with his typical cold stare.
But with something else.
Something I couldn't name.
The door closed, leaving me all alone in his office room.
Instinctively, I reached up and touched the same spot where Minjae's hand had been few moment back.
"Warm. Still warm."
Next, I heard it.
Lub-dub.
Lub-dub.
What?!
I stared about like a moron until it finally clicked.
Wait… that noise..
I placed my hand on my chest.
"My heart.
It was coming from me.
But why was it racing like that?
As I looked up at the wall of mirrors straight in front me, I was completely startled—at my own reflection.
My cheeks were flushing red, like those ripped tomatoes left in the hot sun.
"What's wrong with you Jiwoo?" I whispered.
"This wasn't ordinary embarrassment."
No.
This was different. Sharper. Something that was digging into the top of my chest, pushing in and in and in, until I couldn't ignore.
"I swallowed hard, unwilling to give it a name."
" Not wanting to believe it.
'Then again… If it isn't that… What, then, is this experience?
— To be continued