When you work for an entertainment company, there is no such thing as a holiday or a day off. In fact, holidays were usually the busiest, because people are more likely to spend money around this time.

However, as a songwriter, I did not work from an official office, and was only required to pop in once in awhile for meetings and collaborations. I was allowed to work at my own pace, which I really liked.

My best friend, Nana, however, worked logistics for the idols. She had a roomy office, complete with a black, cushioned spinny chair. As I explained to her the happenings of the night before, she gazed at me with disbelieving eyes, legs propped up on the desk in front of her. Our other best friend, Kyungsoo, who worked as a secretary and occasional coffee boy, was sitting next to me, listening with wide eyes.

“This is crazy, even for you,” she said, finally. “You’ve always been spontaneous and reckless but this is a whole new level of what-the-hell.”

“Situations like this never end well,” Kyungsoo agreed, nodding vehemently. “We’ve all seen the movies, Minjung-ah.”

“I felt bad for him,” I lied. “I mean, he got married at such a young age, then his wife cheated on him and he hasn’t even ventured into socialization aka the dating scene since then. He just wants to look not so lame in front of her. I get that; I feel for the guy.”

Kyungsoo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Sure, and not because he has a nice or something,” he muttered, just loudly enough for me to hear.

“Don’t lie to me, Minjung,” Nana chided, pointing her fountain pen at me. “I know you, and I know when you’re lying. Is that really the reason why you agreed to be this guy’s fake girlfriend for a week?”

I made a face at them and reluctantly shook my head. “He’s really sweet and really cute,” I gushed out, finally. “You don’t understand, guys. He has the sweetest smile I have ever seen, and his son is a little angel.”

“Exactly. He has a son,” Nana deadpanned. “What are you thinking, Han Minjung?”

“He’s only 24,” I defended. “Besides, I’m only pretending to be his girlfriend for a week. It’s not like I’m really dating him. If he’s been too involved with his work to date before, I doubt anything will change after.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Nana warned.

“I already told him I’d do it, so it’s too late anyway,” I told her.

“You’re too nice for your own good,” Kyungsoo decided.

With a last shrug, Nana quickly sat up straight, and used the wheels on her chair to move closer to me.

“Ohmygod, so can I meet him then? I want to see if he really looks like Choi Siwon!”

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I wasn’t exactly sure why Joonmyun had asked me to meet him at his work until I showed up to his office and got to chat a bit with his secretary, a young looking guy with the nametag ‘Byun Baekhyun.’ Apparently, Kim Joonmyun married his work after the divorce and grad school. It wasn’t even that he had to, but he piled his schedule ridiculously full every day of his own free will.

“We call him ‘Suho’ some times, for guardian,” Baekhyun told me. “Doctor Kim is amazing for his age and has so much talent. We’re lucky to have him.”

It seemed that everyone at the office agreed that Joonmyun was well-liked.

There was a quick succession of beeps, and Baekhyun picked up his desk phone. A moment later, he hung up, and waved me over. “You can go in now,” he said, pointing me in the right direction. “Doctor Kim just finished seeing a patient and is finishing up some paperwork.”

Joonmyun’s office was barely decorated or personalized. In fact, it could have been the workspace of any doctor, if not for the picture frame on the desk that depicted Hyunjun happily playing in a pile of leaves.

He looked up as I entered, and gave me a tired smile. “Hey, I’m almost done, okay?  One moment.”

“You look exhausted,” I told him, taking a seat next to him.

Joonmyun shrugged. “This was one of my lighter days,” he said,  rubbing his eyes and moving aside a stack of papers.

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself like this.”

“Speaking of work,” he interrupted, quickly changing the subject as he stood up and reached for his coat on the back of the chair. “What do you do?”

I followed him out of the office as he slipped on his jacket and gloves, waving a goodbye to Baekhyun on our way out into the elevator.  

“Me? I’m a musician,” I told him, pressing the button for the lobby. “Actually, a songwriter for SM Entertainment.”

“Songwriter?” Joonmyun repeated, thoughtfully.

“Surprised?”

“Not really,” he answered, chuckling. “You look like the type.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, a little confused.

“You know...” Joonmyun paused for a moment, thinking over his words. “Spontaneou