“Pardon?” Ren asked, shocked, sitting rigid in the chair in his boss’s office. He hadn’t known why he was called there, he had been turning in work, admittedly not at his best rate, but no worse than any other time. He’d even prepared a portfolio just on the off chance his boss actually wanted to see some of his work. He certainly hadn’t expected this, though he wasn’t sure why he was surprised. He had been too content, too snuggled up in his own happiness and dreams of a brighter future for himself that he had never stopped to remember that wasn’t possible for him.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to fire you,” his boss repeated. Ren was numb, couldn’t feel anything, sat there lifeless as a statue. A perfect figurine.

“May I ask why?” he whispered, not even feeling anger or sadness…merely defeated. A beaten down individual who could no longer rise from his demise.

“It has come to my attention that your and Baekho are getting a little too…close. You’re an assistant, he is a rising star in the modeling empire. You would only hold him back. Not to mention relationships such as those are forbidden. You aren’t some little kpop star with your ‘fanservice’ and ‘skinship.’ You’re nothing. This is the easiest way I can solve the problem. I expect you gone by tonight,” without even a goodbye, the man turned his seat around to face the amazing view of Seoul out of the floor to ceiling window. Ren wanted to push him through it.

The secretary was there in an instant, gently escorting him away in case he became violent – as people were prone to do around this boss. But Ren wasn’t inclined. The brief flash of murderous intent had vanished just as soon as it had come. No. This couldn’t be happening. He had given this company anything they wanted. This was his last resort. He was out of a job. Where was he ever going to find another one? Not only out of a job…out of Baekho. They wouldn’t be able to see each other now.

Ren stumbled like a drunken man into the hallway, clutching at his chest which heaved up and down unevenly. He couldn’t breathe, something was stabbing into his heart like a thousand needles. He would have cried out if he wasn’t already starved for oxygen. Ren tripped into a wall, sliding down slowly to the vile carpet that hadn’t been cleaned in god only knows how long. His fingers searched for his chest, placing a palm over his erratically beating heart.

He didn’t know what was going on, he couldn’t breathe, suffocating as his heart squeezed tighter and tighter. His stomach lurched, and he gagged, but managed to hold it down though his tongue tasted of bile. He didn’t have any savings. Where would he find another job? Where? How would he be able to keep his little apartment? He barely covered the rent as it was, not on the salary meant for a college studen