five

I sat uncomfortably in my seat with my laptop placed before me. We were going to vote and finalise the different style and fittings for JB’s upcoming single. The conference table occupied almost the entire stretch of the meeting room and there were at least a dozen people inside. They were mostly stylists I worked with, as well as several managing directors in the division working with JB that played a crucial role in his concept designs. Casual chit-chats unbroke the silence occasionally, while I would tap my fingers nervously on the table top. I expected everyone to hold some sort of expectations, a hope that their idea would get picked. It was no different for me, though I leaned more towards the wishful thinking side, because I knew hierarchy and popularity played a significant role in such a voting process, especially in an industry like that.

“Is everyone here?” The moment we heard Ms. Kwon’s voice, we stood up from our seats immediately, with some of the more enthusiastic employees greeting her with gusto. She dismissed our greetings, placing her belongings at the end of the table.

“Those who are running for today’s elections,” she informed everyone. Her diction made the atmosphere tensed and I honestly believed the “elections” shouldn’t be considered such a major thing. She made it seem like a harsh competition, but I guessed it was a norm and I just wasn’t used to it yet. “Can you all pin your ideas on the board?”

There were six of us, including Ms. Kwon. I was the youngest out of all who were involved in brainstorming and running for the “elections”. We heeded her orders, carrying our individual vanguard sheet with us and walked over to the board. Everyone seemed to be fighting for the middle spot as if there were some feng shui I didn’t know about. Admitting defeat, I took the last spot on the far right.

Returning to my seat, I scanned all the ideas on the board. They ranged from extremely striking ones to a more mellowed down design like mine. I was positive mine wouldn’t be picked considering the lack of star qualities it emanated and it being in the least noticeable spot wasn’t helping at all. I sighed, staring at my fingers, each one having its own band-aid after nights of sewing the sample piece.

“If everyone is done, we will start.” Ms. Kwon clapped her hands, taking a sip from her cup of coffee after. I sat upright on my seat, picking my nails. I was actually really nervous.

“You forgot about me.” In an orotund voice, he made his grand entrance through the doors with his manager walking beside him. Everyone gasped in surprise, including Ms. Kwon. No one knew JB would be here that day. We stood up instinctively, bowing our heads.

“O-oh, will you be joining us today?” Ms. Kwon asked, her voice quivering and a little hesitant. I had never seen her so timid before.

“I think I deserve to participate in today’s selection process,” he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. He had his hands tugged in his pockets which made him look extra cocky, though I knew he wasn’t like that. It was just one of his traits as the JB everyone knew. An employee provided him with a chair and he plopped down, leaning against the backrest and crossed his legs. “After all, it concerns me, doesn’t it?”

I was sitting at the furthest end of the conference table yet I still took note of his gaze towards me. I cleared my throat and looked down, unsure of the purpose of his actions. As far as I knew, he never took part in the selection process.

“Of- of course you do!” Ms. Kwon resounded. There seemed to be a layer of unpleasantness hovering above the senior workers. It was as if JB wasn’t welcomed there, and I genuinely looked forward to seeing how the day would play out.

---

Going in order of the positions on the board, I was the last one to present and to appeal my idea. We were to prepare a one minute speech to introduce our ideas for the last time before moving into the voting process.

My heart pounded faster and faster each time a person finished his/her presentation. Sometimes I wished I was the first to go so I could get it done earlier, instead of spending the next thirty minutes worrying and fretting over nothing.

I noticed how he twirled the ballpoint pen in his hand, occasionally noting down certain points from the different speeches. It added on to my nervousness, and I mentally criticised him in my head. He was just adding on to my growing anxiousness.

My turn finally came and I stood up slowly, putting my script in front of my face so that I blocked him from my view. I delivered my speech smoothly eventually, and it was as if I had used up my lifetime’s worth of courage and confidence. I heaved a sigh of relief when I was done and sat down, feeling as if my soul just left my body. I smiled to myself.

“Alright, we shall finally move into the selections.” Ms. Kwon announced and started handing out small pieces of paper to everyone in the room.

“Before that,” JB said. I swore I saw Ms. Kwon shudder at the sound of his voice. “Isn’t anyone going to listen to my opinion?”

JB had a way with his words. He was always asking rhetorical questions that made even the most senior employees speechless. He was present at the scene, breaking all the norms and traditions of how a typical selection process would go and they were not sure as to how to adapt.

“Y-you can speak.” Ms. Kwon uttered, and I observed that it was already the third time she stuttered that day. She passed the spotlight to JB and he stood up, walking to the board.

“I’m pretty sure everyone has already decided on what they wanted to pick,” he began. “But I’m curious. I want to know your thoughts. Stylist Park, who are you going to choose?”

Everyone seemed flabbergasted at his unexpected question. Stylist Park cleared his throat, sitting up on his seat. He glanced at Ms. Kwon from the table and I was starting to grow suspicious.

“I like Ms. Kwon’s idea the most.” He said, an attempt to sound as confident and unbothered as possible. He used his pen to point to the middle vanguard sheet.

JB walked over to where he was pointing at and scanned the writings for a while. “And why is that so?”

“I think it’s unique. Also the one with the highest quality.”

I was astounded by the lack of elaboration from Stylist Park. He was also one of the senior stylists, and I guessed the seniors would never get tired of the classic pretty boy concept over and over again.

JB raised his eyebrows, stunned that Stylist Park simply ended his reasoning with two short sentences. He crossed his arms.

“What about you then, Director Jo?”

“I like Ms. Kwon’s idea too.”

“Me too.”

“Same.”

The series of agreements made me at a loss of words. It seemed like there was no need for a vote anymore.

JB heaved a really deep sigh. I looked at him curiously, wondering what he was going to do or say next.

“I think Ms. Kwon’s