A/N: So... This is my Birthday gift... sort of... for Prawnified! Happy Birthday! :D Well, I came up with the plot as soon as Prawny (can I call you that? keke.) asked me to write a JeTi shot for their birthday. And since, the plot really stretched... It's 6,000+ words and still counting as of  the moment, I'm turning this into a two shot. :D This is not the same as 'My Pace' but it has a more complex plot to it. Hope you enjoy reading this! :3 

Raison d'être

(Reason for living)

1

White pumps clack against the pavement as their owner shifts her calms struts into a slight sprint. She checks her watch, noting the time before she huffs and speeds up her strides. ‘. I’m going to be late.’ She inwardly curses as she hugs her portfolio and hails a taxi as soon as she spots one. She slips into the car and hastily tells the driver her destination before she fumbles through her bag in search of that elusive compact.

She hisses, earning the concerned looks of the driver for a moment before the man resumes his business on the wheel. Luckily, she finds her phone, unlocks it, and studies herself on the front camera. ‘Nope. Still presentable,’ she thinks as she fixes her hair before promptly tucking the device back into her bag. Taking a deep breath, she watches as the car swerves through traffic. ‘I can do this!’ She urges herself before she notices that they have reached her intended destination. She casts the driver a grateful smile before handing over the exact cash and with a word of “thanks” she slinks out of the vehicle and disappears into one of the establishments nearby.

+++

“Good morning, Miss Jung. These are the profiles of the new applicants for the company. We have them come early for briefing and these are the files that you have requested the other day.” The young assistant, a stalwart woman in her early twenties discloses as she tries her best to fall in step with the fast-paced Chief Executive Officer.

Miss Jung receives the portfolios with a curt nod and a small smile before she opens the first file as she walks past the lobby. She and her stumbling secretary come to an abrupt halt before the elevator with the CEO not taking her eyes off the pages of names and their credentials while the secretary catches her breath from the brisk walk that Miss Jung had put her through.

“Mommy!”

The call of a young girl of six catches Miss Jung’s attention and the so-called Tigress of the Jung International Industries hands back her portfolios in hand and leans down to pick up the little lass who has run up to her. Miss Jung’s secretary watches as her boss transforms from a meticulous businesswoman to a doting and loving mother.

“Hi, Baby. What took you so long to come here?” Miss Jung asks as she rubs her nose against her daughter’s tiny one, making the little girl giggle.  

“Mommy, that tickles.” The little one chuckles as she wraps her arms around her mother’s neck and plants a peck on her mom’s cheek. “Mr. Mishima had a hard time parking the car, Mommy.” The child pouts, making Miss Jung smile in adoration.

“Oh, Soojungie. Sorry about running out the car ahead of you.” Miss Jung plants a peck on her daughter’s cheek, earning a cute giggle from the little bundle. “It’s okay, Mommy. I understand.” The child gives her mom a hug before she wiggles in her mother’s arms, prompting the CEO to set her child down. And just as little Soojungie lands on the floor, the elevator arrives and opens.

Without wasting a breath, Miss Jung enters the claustrophobic metallic capsule along with little Soojungie and the secretary. “May I have the portfolios, please?” Miss Jung asks as she turns to her secretary; the young woman hands over the files and the CEO wastes no time in skimming through pages of documents.

“Mommy.”

“Yes, Soojung?”

“What are those things?” Soojung tilts her head as her eyes lock with the thick folders in her mother’s hands.

Miss Jung smiles at her daughter before answering, “They are papers containing information about our possible new employees, sweetie.”

“Can I read those, Mom?”

Miss Jung blinks once, before her eyes shift to the young secretary with them. The secretary is also staring in amusement at the very inquisitive child. The CEO’s eyes land back on her child before she answers with a charming smile, “You can read them when Mommy’s done with them, Soojung.”

“Really?” Soojung’s eyes sparkle in delight before she wraps her arms around her Mommy’s waist. “Thanks, Mommy!”

Miss Jung momentarily closes the portfolio that occupied both her hands before patting Soojung’s head affectionately. Her secretary smiles at the cute mother-daughter interaction before she resorts to a serious expression as the elevator dings to the designated floor. Within a blink of an eye, Miss Jung’s motherly demeanor transforms to that of the Tigress and with a little cub at her heels, the CEO saunters out into the corridor as the secretary follows them like a meek lamb.

+++

‘I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.’ She recites in her mind like a mantra. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat as she and five others wait for their defining moment. This is to be their final interview before they get to become part of the prestigious company. She has always admired the company’s labyrinthine architecture, but right now, everything is eclipsed with the foreboding feeling of being grilled by the company’s top executives.

A woman in her mid-thirties stands before them and greets them, “Good morning, everyone. Your final interview begins in five. The panel will call for you one by one so please stand by until your name is called.” Without allowing the candidates to reply, the woman briskly disappears behind a mahogany door not far from where they were seated. 

The other candidates sigh in relief while some wiped away the sweat beading their forehead. She takes a deep breath as her eyes lock on the closed door. ‘This is it.’ She says to herself. ‘I can do this.’

The door opens and the woman is back before the other candidates could compose themselves. If she has taken notice of the anxiety in their faces, she ignores it and proceeds with the announcement of a name as she looks into her folder. “Mr. Ciel Michaels.”

A short guy clad in a dark business suit stands up from the end nearest the door. He fixes his coat, picks up his folder, before he confidently enters the room with the facilitator at his heels. The door closes and the other candidates along with her, sigh in relief. Minutes seem like hours before Mr. Michaels leaves the room and gives out a sigh of relief. He nods at his fellow candidates before he stalks off and disappears down the hall.

One by one, the candidates are called into the interview room until all that’s left is her. The door knob turns and she holds her breath as the candidate before her makes an exit. The facilitator stares her in the eyes and gives a curt smile, “I believe, you’re the last one, Ms.,” the woman looks at