Suga

If there’s a description of what the conference would smell like, it would smell like power and money. Most of the people didn’t come from old money background, as biotechnology is a rather new sector that took off within the last forty years or so.

Investors are milling around, making small talk with smaller fry. A few smile uneasily at me, and I unamusedly glower back. After all, I had an image to upkeep.

The other big fish in the pond haven’t strolled in yet, and seeing that she is kicking off the conference, that could be an issue. The opening usually varied between the two of us, and seeing that I had opened the conference last year in Seoul, I had been expecting her to open it this year.

And speaking of the devil, she strolls in, a slight smile on her face as if she knows that all eyes are on her. And they are. The enormous room full of people quiets, just as they had done when I had walked in. I take my seat in front of the podium, fighting back a smile when I see her seat a few down from mine like it usually is.

The conference leaders are smart enough to separate rivals.

She heads directly for the podium, head high and confidence exuding with her every step. She doesn’t have to wait long, because the people in the room quiet almost instantly, as if unsettled by the presence of power.

And when she speaks, she does so with a grace that somehow leaves a slight smile on my face that I quickly have to wipe off unless anyone else is watching. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual Bio Korea conference…”

As eloquent and planned as the opening speech is, I find myself waiting for the end. It’s not because I don’t enjoy the mild punches of humor or because it was boring. She’s rather entertaining, and I guess she has the ability to entertain that side of her persona because that’s how she’s perceived by the general public. Despite her firm record and ability to grab power, she isn’t seen to be as ruthless as I am, and I’m not sure if that’s because she’s female or because she has the ability to make people interested in her. No matter how Korea is progressing, females are still undermined in the business world, and there’s evidence of that very concept at the conference, where females are dotted throughout the audience.

But I’m waiting for her speech to end because I just realized how different we are, and how easy it is to compare the two of us. We’re each other’s biggest rivals, and yet we have vastly different approaches to our businesses. And while her speech is about healthy competition on a global scale, mine is about the determination to help lead the sector into pulling more power and funding so the industry gets more attention.

In a way, we’re both caged inside the perception that people have of us. And we’re aware of it. And that’s why I don’t want her speech to end, and yet I want it to end at the same time. Because I know I’m going to have a different response from the crowd despite of how good of an orator she is, because I preach power and she preaches cooperation. We’re vastly different.

And yet, we’re the same.

But there’s a part of me that knows that she’s going to be watching me as closely as I’m watching her. And that’s why when she finishes, and applause rolls through the room, I stand up with a nonchalant arrogance that I had perfected. I button my suit jacket closed, and we pass by each other.

“Can you beat me, Min Yoongi?” A little smirk plays at the corner of her lips, quiet enough that no one could hear, not that there was anyone around us anyway.

“Watch me and decide for yourself, Byun Hana.”
 

The entire conference gets quite boring past our speeches, despite that not taking more than half an hour total. Instead of focusing on globalization, several people keep making subtle requests for funding for labs and research. The government had sent a few representatives from national research and science agencies, but because the industry is mostly privatized, it feels a little unnecessary.

But the talks go on, and some of them catch my attention. I pay attention to the large pharma and diagnostics work, just to bring Jin up to speed. There is another conference in Seoul that is mainly for drug development, and Jin had to choose to go to the one that was more significant to his company. Anyone speaking at the current conference on the matter are mainly leaders and authoritarians on topics from universities.

It doesn’t escape my attention that Hana pays a little more attention during the talks about marketing within biopharmaceuticals, and how the use of biotechnology and nanoengineering is leading to a merge in the sectors of medical treatment and biotechnology. Although there is a significant overlap, nothing in Hana’s company reflected interest in large pharma.

But observing her closely wouldn’t make sense. There are hundreds of people at the conference, and all of them are aware of our rivalry. So instead, I make a note for later and attempt to refocus on the talks. My stomach is grumbling and my shoulders nearly sag with relief when there’s a break for lunch.

I end up crowding my plate to the point where its nearly piled, but that wouldn’t fit what people thought of me. I scan the conference room, where people are talking in groups, and I exhale. I usually sat alone at these things.

That was the toll of sitting at the top. No one wants to talk unless if they wanted something from me, so inevitably, the empty table would fill up. But until then, I wrinkle my nose as I try the salad and then proceed to eat everything but the salad.

By the time that only the leafy greens are left, a few men sit down and attempt to make small talk, and I entertain their thoughts, simply because I couldn’t remember any of their names. One of them lean forward, finally getting to his point, “We’re really doing groundbreaking work and investors are starting to pile in because of how profitable our work can be.”

I check the time on my phone, trying to give up a nonchalant vibe, “Really? Because I’m under the impression from my briefings before this conference that your group has no investors and is out of funding.”

The man pales and despite my rather cold response, his fright and embarrassment brings me a sense of amusement. My eyes pull away from the men in front of me and I scan through the nearby tables, only to find Hana with a pile of salad on her plate and nothing else.

I flick open my texts, and turn in my chair just to make sure that no one else could see my texts. Just in case, I dim the backlight.

Y: The salad is disgusting please save yourself

Her phone is most likely on vibrate, because she takes it out almost immediately and throws a look over her shoulder, probably to make sure that no one could see her texts. She ignores the others at her table as she taps back a response.

Contact 1: Oh trust me I know
Contact 1: Room service is going to make a lot of money off of me tonight
Y: Or you could go back and get something edible
Contact 1: I can’t I’m female
Y: What does that have to do with it
Contact 1: Have you seen another female in this room go back to get seconds?
Contact 1: My dad texted me today to tell me not to embarrass him like I have been doing recently

My mouth turns a little down at that. If I’m in a cage, she’s in a cage where the walls have continuously been closing in on her, leaving her with less and less room to move. My fingers hover over the screen, wanting to say that she wouldn’t be judged, but I know I would be lying. So instead, I say the only thing I can.

Y: There’s a three course Italian meal on the room service menu
Contact 1: If I drool during the rest of the conference it’s your fault
 

I loosen my tie, rolling my shoulders back and trying to release the tension. I fail miserably, to say the least, and I sit down on the bed and kick off my shoes. One more day of mindless talks until I could go back to Seoul.

My phone vibrates, and my fingers flip it over to see the offender.

Jin: Updates?
Yoongi: Does Byun Hana have any stakes in pharma?
Jin: What
Jin: No that’s not possible
Yoongi: That’s what I thought
Yoongi: Just making sure

I toss my phone away a little, and it slips off the bed and falls to the ground with a thud. I groan, because the effort of picking it up feels like a little too much at the moment. But I haul myself up, stooping down to grab my phone.

And when I try to come back up, I hit my head on the underside of the bedside table. I rub at the sore spot, looking up at the table from my position on the floor, and then I squint.

There’s a suspicious black mass on the bottom of the table with a wire coming out of it. I flick the flashlight on from my phone, and prod at the fluffy exterior that slides off the wire to show the universal symbol that gives the object away and makes me freeze.

A mike. The room is bugged.

I glance at my phone, and then realize that nowhere in the room is safe. If there’s listening devices, then there’s most likely a camera. I pull my shoes back on, grab the access card, and slam the door behind me as the adrenaline makes my heart race.

Why would there be a mike in the hotel room? And then a second realization makes me duck into the public bathroom in the lobby and lock myself in a stall.

Y: My room is bugged
Y: And if mine is, yours probably is too

She’s a fast responder, and for that I’m probably lucky. It would be highly unlikely that there’s a camera or a bug in the public bathroom, so this is probably the safest place to be in the hotel that is hosting the conference. Oddly enough, it’s Hoseok’s hotel, and I knew for a fact that bugging his customers was not a company policy.

Contact 1: Mikes or cameras?
Y: Probably both
Contact 1: Perfect timing
Contact 1: I was about to shower

Despite the situation, her text makes me smile.

Contact 1: So now what?
Y: We run
 

Hana

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the hotel for the night? If there’s an issue, I can try my best to resolve it.” The man is rather earnest in his approach to make me stay, and I’m not sure how Yoongi escaped just half an hour ago. Apparently he has access to another hotel in the city that Jung Hoseok owned, but the man at the front desk is oddly insistent that he fix any issues that I have.

“My fiancé wants to see me,” I shrug with an easy smile on my face, sliding the access card across the counter. My eyes flicker to his name tag. “Thank you very much for your help, Baekhyun.”

His smile falters a little at the name drop, and then widens again, “Please give us a call if you change your mind.”

Something about this man is throwing me off, and I have a feeling that I’ve seen his eyes from somewhere. I walk away from the counter, lugging my suitcase behind, and as I’m passing through the front doors, I look back to see