Moonbyul spun her pen between her fingers absentmindedly. Nothing to do. Why is there nothing to do?

For the first time in a while, she eyed the stack of manila folders on the far corner of her desk and considered opening the dusty files.

Before she knew it, the topmost folder was off the stack and open in front of her. On the thin pile of papers was a zoomed-in, pixelated picture of an irritated white cat held limply next to an adoring cheek.

Wheein returned, shrugging back sore shoulders from the effort of arranging the new vase on the living room coffee table. She walked behind Moonbyul, glancing over the girl’s hunched back to stare quizzically at the file.

“Is that from the pile?”

Moonbyul picked the photo up and rotated it. “Yep.” She frowned, holding it up against the light of the lamp fixtures to discern any noticeable difference or clue within. Nope. Still pixels.

Wheein pulled out her chair from her adjoining desk and plopped down. As she waited for the light indicator on the electric kettle to go off, she asked, “Is that Moon Hyuna’s case?”

Moonbyul lay the cat photo down and picked up the next sheet. “Name: Moon Hyuna. Case: Moya is missing—“

The click of the steaming kettle coincided with the slap of paper as Moonbyul shoved the files into the folder and tossed it back onto the pile in the corner.

Wheein snorted as she began pouring the boiling water into her mug. “There’s a reason I sorted those from the rest.”

“But a missing cat. Really?”

“It’s still a case.”

“But not something we should be dealing with.”

“It’s a rich person case. We deal with rich people problems. So technically…” Wheein let her words trail off with a knowing smile as she raised her cup of Earl Grey to her lips.

“A cat. That’s a little below our paygrade isn’t it?”

“To be fair, Hyuna did offer our typical starting price. It would be a steal to take the job.”

“I don’t want to wander down alleys and up trees to chase a pesky feline. It’s boring. And demeaning.” Moonbyul inhaled the fragrance of Wheein’s tea and her lips. “Make me one too. I could use a little pick-me-up right now.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not like you have anything to work on right now. You’re just too lazy to make your own.” Wheein stuck out her tongue at Moonbyul, but she pulled out another mug and ripped open another tea bag. “Here.”

Moonbyul took a sip. “Ow!” She fanned her burnt tongue and lips, glaring at the giggling assistant next to her.

“The great private eye, Moonbyul. So easily tricked.”

“Only by petty pranks like yours.” Scowling, Moonbyul blew on the surface of her drink, watching the ripples spread outward. “Can’t always be on guard.”

“You should be more careful. Like how rich people are.”

“We aren’t really one of them.” Moonbyul pursed her lips as she took another sip. Her lids closed halfway as she indulged in the soothing drink. “We just exclusively work for them.”

“And get paid well.”

“That’s just a reward for our hard work. Nothing much.”

“Your growing collection of antiques says otherwise.”

“You’re looking too much into it, Wheein.” She plucked the tea bag out of her mug and tossed it into the trash.

She could sense the storm brewing between them once again. It was a pointless battle of morals and decisions that were too late to change. Wheein’s over-analysis of the change from then and now -- from their little rented apartment-slash-office to the three story mansion the three resided in now – never failed to get on Moonbyul’s nerves.

Part of it was because of the unavoidable shades of truth within her complaints. Though they had never done anything that warranted government scrutiny, she couldn’t deny that some of the jobs they accepted certainly skirted those lines of legality and ethics.

At least Hwasa rarely voiced her objections. The stoic bodyguard was readily accepting of any job Moonbyul took on. But there was that occasional glint of dissatisfaction in her eyes. Moonbyul saw it.

She always saw it all. That was her job. To notice what no one else did.

But since when had she begun ignoring the hints? Ignoring the subtle ones that made Hwasa’s hands hesitate before choking a man to sleep. Ignoring the more than obvious ones that spilled out of Wheein’s mouth in a rant on their drives home. Ignoring everyone’s reluctance to acknowledge the fat wad of cash sitting obnoxiously within the yellow envelope, untouched until one of them shoved it into their safe.

Ignoring her relationship with her friends. And ignoring the ‘why’s’ for the ‘who, what, where, when, and how’.

When had it become just a job?

Moonbyul cursed as her hand holding the kettle trembled and spilled the boiling liquid onto her unclothed knee. So much for a refill. She let her mug clatter onto the wooden desk and reached for a few paper towels to wipe her leg.

“You’re thinking again aren’t you?” Wheein brought the roll to Moonbyul with a sigh.

“I’m always thinking.”

“But you think too much.”

“It’s my job to think.”

“What are you thinking about right now then?”

What was she thinking about right now? Moonbyul couldn’t help but feel something else nagging at the back of her mind. It wasn’t about Wheein, who looked rather calm right now. And it couldn’t be a case. After all, they had finished up the simple surveillance Irene had requested on Wendy and Seulgi smoothly a while ago. One of their easier, more acceptable, cases.

Relationships. Moonbyul inwardly cringed as she thought about the mess that must have resulted after she had handed the bulging envelope of pictures to Irene. But then again, what they had was much more than what she had. Which was nothing.

Her nonexistent relationship could wait for another time though. The image of the vase she had acquired earlier today floated across her memory, shattering her recollection of Irene’s face of restrained fury.

The auction. That girl.

“Wheein. Did you get a good look at that girl’s face from today? Solar, or whatever it was?” Moonbyul spun around in her swivel chair, feeling disgruntled.

“Yep. I think so.”

“Would you be able to make a quick sketch of her profile? I want to send it to Hwasa for a background search.”

Wheein put down her second steaming cup of tea. Watching Moonbyul’s pen race over the lines of a yellow notepad, she scooted her chair closer and leaned over the arm to see the words. ‘Solar’ was scribbled across the top, bolded with marker. Below was a bulleted list, lengthening line by line following Moonbyul’s muttered ramblings. Wheein read it aloud. “Mole over eye. Large, wide smile. Chubby cheeks. Shorter than me. Slightly wavy brown hair.”

“Did I miss anything distinct?”

Sighing, Wheein sat down beside her boss and took the notepad. Flipping to the next page, she began drawing.

“Her eyebrows are a bit bushier towards the middle.”

Wheein colored in the change.

“Her hairs’ a bit wavier. And a bit longer. It goes right there below her chest. Perhaps around a hand’s width?”

Wheein outlined Solar’s upper torso.

“Well since we’re there, might as well get her chest right. I’m pretty sure her dimensions are—“

“Moonbyul!” Wheein dropped her pen and it hit the notepad with a thud. She turned toward her boss, who had one hand propped under her chin in a picture of serious contemplation.

“No? Ok then. That’s probably enough for Hwasa anyways.” Moonbyul ripped the page out and held it before her. Nodding her head in satisfaction at its likeness, she pressed a button to summon her bodyguard.

Minutes later, Hwasa walked in with a yawn.

“Hwasa, run this sketch.” She the page into Hwasa’s hands.

Hwasa uncrumpled the piece of paper to squint at Wheein’s artwork. “Isn’t this the girl from earlier today?”

“Yeah. I want everything about her. Background, family, job. You know what to do Hwasa.”

“The full works?”

“Everything.” Moonbyul leaned over and stole Wheein’s cup of tea, sipping contentedly from the now cooled drink.

“Why are you so obsessed with her?”

Moonbyul a stray droplet from the corner of her lips as she pondered.

“You don’t even have a reason?” Wheein rolled her eyes as she grabbed her tea back, staring forlornly at the dregs that remained.

“It’s for security. She seemed pretty intent on getting that vase from today.”

“You really think she’s a swindler? I didn’t get that kind of vibe from her,” argued Wheein.

“It can’t hurt to check just in case. Better safe than sorry.”

“So you admit you have doubts too.” Hwasa was already at her computer, typing away madly as window after window popped up.

“She didn’t look like a conman. But the way she was dressed...” Moonbyul’s eye twitched as she thought about the literal fashion terrorist Solar had been. Never mind the attire that literally shouted ‘Soccer Mom’, not a single ounce of the girl exuded anything that seemed to belong in the room of wealthy young heirs and successful business men. “Something was off. And I intend to find out what it is.”

“You know, she could be telling the truth. Maybe it really was an heirloom.”

“I doubt that, Wheein. People always lie.” Moonbyul tapped her pen against her chin, piecing together the fragments of their encounter. What could it be? The source of the discontent that wormed through her stomach?

Everybody had secrets. But Moonbyul felt stumped right now trying to tease out Solar’s.

“She looked as if she couldn’t lie to save her life.” Wheein rolled her eyes and shook the empty kettle sadly. “I’ve rarely seen anyone get so flustered by a simple conversation.”

“An act.”

“Have some faith in people, Moonbyul.”

“I will when Hwasa provides the evidence.” She reached to ruffle Wheein’s hair, a vain attempt to appease the growing pout of dissatisfaction on the assitant's face. “Aww, come on. It’s just a precaution.”

Wheein crossed her arms and turned away from Moonbyul. “Hmphh.”

Moonbyul nearly bit her tongue when the waves of brown locks whipped across her face. God damn it Wheein. Their arguments were really getting more and more frequent. Too frequent for her liking.

“So sorry to disturb you guys.” The glare of the computer screen lit up hwasa's side profile as she looked at the scene behind her. Moonbyul was tapping nervously on Wheein’s shoulder, the latter refusing to acknowledge her. Hwasa, tired of being mediator, just said “She was telling some truth at least.”

“You found something?” Moonbyul rushed over and leaned on the back of Hwasa’s chair to stare intently at the screen.

“She’s actually an employee of Radish Airlines.”

“WHAT!!” Hwasa rolled off to the side, complaining, as Moonbyul pushed her chair away. She began to scroll through the profile Hwasa had pulled up on the computer. “Kim Yongsun.” Her lips thinned as she continued, “She lied about her name.”

“No, Solar’s a nickname.” Wheein, who had joined them around the screen, pointed resignedly at the box next to it.

Moonbyul’s nose twitched. Continuing on as if she had never said anything wrong, she read, “3^rd year air stewardess. Radish Airlines. Is that…”

“Yeah, it’s the one we investigated a while a back.”

“Ah. I see.” Moonbyul scrolled down further. “Family contacts: none. How strange.” She thought back to the teary eyes Solar had when speaking of her grandmother. Perhaps she had been a little too harsh when she refused the offer. Even she wasn’t that cruel.

“Reason for wanting to become a stewardess: To overcome a past trauma regarding planes.”

“What does that mean?” wondered Moonbyul out loud as she reread the line Wheein had just read off the screen.

“Who knows? Maybe she’s had a bad experience with service and wants to improve it,” drawled Hwasa. She picked up Wheein’s sketch and marveled at its similarity to the profile photo on the application.

“Or it could be worse. A plane crash, maybe?”

“Don’t joke about things like that, Wheein.”

“I’m just listing possibilities.”

Moonbyul shook herself free from her turbulent thoughts about Solar. Somehow, looking the girl up had led to more questions than answers. And an unusual coincidence. Curious. She continued scrolling, disappointed when she hit the bottom of the document and nothing new popped up.

Wheein cleared and asked, “So what do you think?”

“You guys were right. I was probably overthinking things. Her profile looks pretty clean.” Moonbyul shut off the computer screen. She could worry about the girl some other time. She stood up and stretched, yawning wildly. “Well I’m going to bed then. Don’t stay up too late watching your dramas now, you two. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow and an early meeting with a client.”

She made her way to her single room, changing into comfortable pajamas and dragging the covers on her queen bed up to her chin before pressing the button that led to the gradual dimming of the lamp overhead.

Who are you, Solar? The thought stuck in the back of Moonbyul’s mind as she drifted off to sleep.

*I'm feeling some serious kdrama vibes right now as I write. It's getting a bit cliche oops. And I know I didn't bring Solar in this chapter, but she'll be back next chapter for sure!

I'm actually contemplating between two different routes this story right now. The original one shot I had planned could potentially end nicely in a few more chapters. Much more light and slightly humorous. But I've also considered developing a plot twist that could work out with this setting, though it'll be a bit longer. It'll probably have a bit more drama and mystery as well. 

Also, I know I kept making Solar call Moonbyul a businesswoman last chapter! It was just from her perspective, since she didn't know, and well, Moonbyul in a suit is hot and could be anything. Sorry for the confusion!

Thanks for reading~  Love your comments!