My first faculty meeting is about to begin, and I cannot stop sweating. After two years as an adjunct lecturer, I finally got a job as a faculty professor of performing arts at Clear Water University.

Of course, I never saw my life turning out this way. First it was a short professional dance career that ended in an injury. Followed by graduate degree in performing arts, student teaching, shadow work, and adjunct lectures. Suddenly, I have a full-time salary and the prestige of being called Professor Jung at Clear Water University.

I was unsure of the dress code for the first faculty meeting before the fall semester begins. I opted for business casual, because I can never go wrong with a simple black polo and slacks. I check my watch one last time before walking into the building.

I see professors mingling about the halls before they started to file into the auditorium style lecture hall. I step in and scan the room. Older, tenured, professors have grouped together while the rest are evenly sprawled out. I decide to take the far back right side of the room and make my way up the steps.

I set my leather bag down on the floor and pull out a memo pad and a black pen. The Dean of the University entered the room and greeted everyone warmly. He moved behind the podium and spoke into the microphone, "We will get started in just a moment as we let more people file in," he smiled brightly.

I suddenly hear a bag clutter against the seats next to me. I glance over and see a man sit two seats over from me. He slumped down and leaned back, pushing his wispy hair out of his face. He made eye contact with me briefly and gave a crooked smile and dipped his head slightly. I do the same.

"Do you think you can spare a sheet?" He whispers. I look over at him and he raised an eyebrow before pointing at my memo pad when I didn't respond. "A sheet of paper?" He asks again.

I snap out of it and rip out a piece and hand it to him. He smiles in thanks, before ripping the bottom piece of the paper off. He brings the paper up to his lips and pushes out his chewing gum onto the paper. He crumples it up into a ball and places it on the table. He digs around in his bag and produces a stumpy wooden pencil and sets it on top of the remaining scrap of paper.

I focus back to the front of the room, confused, but regain my focus on the Dean. He welcomed everyone to the new semester. He gave a brief introduction of all of the new professors. Professor Kwon, a new computer science teacher, she stood up and gave a small wave as we clapped. Professor Choi, a new biology teacher, he stands up and smiles briefly while we clapped. 

Finally, he gets to me. "Lastly, we have Professor Jung. The new professor of the performing arts department. Theatre and dance," he gestures to me in the back. I quickly stand up and give a small wave while dipping my head quickly, all of the clapping is making me nervous.

I happen to catch the eye of the man who is next to me. He is still slouched back in his chair. His eyebrows were raised inquisitively as he gave a slow clap. I sit back down, and the Dean continues.

We learn about the faculty office locations, how to get ID cards, how to collect our schedules, and get the dates for our evaluations. I took diligent notes. After the meeting concluded, I gathered my things up. The man next to me was just scribbling on the sheet of paper I gave him.

I sigh and shake my head and walk down to the front of the room to grab a map of the campus. I head out to get my ID and find my office. I follow the crowd to the central campus building and get my photo taken for my card.

I put the lanyard around my neck and open the map back up. Let see...my office is in the performing arts building. Hmm, this campus is so confusing.

"Need some help?" I hear a voice behind me, and I look back. It was the man from the faculty meeting who sat next to me. "I assume you are trying to find your office," he gave a crooked smile.

I smile back wearily, "I am," I look back at the map, "It is in the performing arts building," He nods and gestures for me to follow him. I put the map in my bag and join him.

He has both of his hands in the front pockets of his slouchy black slacks. He has on a muted blue sweater that looked slightly oversized. The front of the sweater was tucked into his slacks. His worn-out leather bag, on a strap, bounced on his shoulder as we walked.

"Min Yoongi," he sticks his hand out to shake, "Professor of Museum Studies and Archives," he grasps my hand. His hand feels a bit rough. We shake briefly and he returns his hand to his pockets.

"Jung Hoseok, Performing Arts," I reply. "What exactly are museum studies?" I ask genuinely and he responds with a light chuckle. "Sorry," I laugh nervously.

"Don't be," he waves it off, "It is the smallest department on campus. I am the only professor." He looks over at me, "I teach restorative technique to preserve historical art, documents, and materials. I also teach art history and curating methods to construct ethical galleries and museums," he smiles flatly. Like he has rehearsed this monologue for when people inevitably ask what museum studies are.

"Ethical," I hum lightly, "I like that, too many museums have problematic undertones and information. More should be constructed ethically," I nod.

It was silent after I spoke, so I glance at him, and his eyes are glued to me. Blinking strongly, "What," I ask. He shakes his head as if it was nothing.

"This is it," he gestures in front of us. The performing arts building is shaped like a dome. It also houses the main performing auditorium for plays and performances.

We walk through the front doors. We move through the front area where guests would attend events. He takes me back to large black doors, and push our way through. We enter a long hallway, and the motion sensor lights flicker on.

"These are all classrooms, and down here are the offices," we keep moving forward. Our shoes clicking in unison on the linoleum. We turn a corner and there are four offices lined up along the back wall.

"I am 204," I look at my sheet. I walk over to the door and punch in the code and push open the door. I turn on the light and there is a large desk facing a window that covers the entire back wall. It over looks the river and the park. It is a little dusty and plain, but I can make it my own.

I turn back and see Yoongi leaning on the door frame, "Thank you for helping me find my office," He shrugs his shoulders.

"No problem, I will leave you to it," he pushes off the frame and turns to leave.

I may have judged him to quickly back at the meeting. I jog out to the door and peak around the wall, "Wait!" I call out, and he glances back over his shoulder, "Maybe we can be friends?" I offer.

He smirks and brushes his hair back once before laughing lightly, "Yeah, maybe," he responds before he continues walking down the hall and out of sight. Hmm, was that a, yes?