Kai nervously straightens his Armani suit jacket as he makes his way to the front of the conference room. His presentation is already set up on the projector, along with copies of the business plan he compiled. The Korea Oil National Company seal is printed on every document of Kai’s deliverables. Some of the executives smile at him as Kai introduces himself to the Board of Directors, but the only thing Kai can feel is a pair of chilly, scrutinizing eyes boring into his skull.

    Don’t look at him directly, Kai commands himself. Forget that he is here, forget that he is watching you.

    “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he says in a smooth, confident voice. “Today I will present to you the quarterly performance report for Korea Oil National Company. We shall begin by taking a look at our net income and earnings per share.”

    Kai breezes through the presentation, effectively answering all questions posed to him. The executives in the room are beaming at him. They are impressed with his work.

    “You performed a very detailed statistical analysis,” one woman remarks. “And in such short of a time, too. When did CEO Kim assign you this?”

    Kai looks coolly at his father, who is sitting at the head of the table. CEO Kim’s judgemental look has not dimmed a bit since Kai started. “Yesterday afternoon, at around 4 PM,” Kai responds. The woman’s eyebrows shoot up.

    “Amazing! I wouldn’t have been able to compile a report of this quality in that time.” the woman says. “Good job.”

    “If there are no more questions,” Kai says, “that will conclude my presentati-,”

    A voice rings out from across the room. “You failed to answer an essential question: how do you plan to improve sales for the next quarter?”

    He’s trying to trip me up on purpose, Kai fumes, struggling to mask his angry emotions. He looks at his father and replies, “As mentioned in several areas of my presentation, we will use more efficient marketing tactics to draw more customers to our business over our competitors. In addition, we will begin to devise tactics for global expansion as well.”

    “I see.” CEO Kim coughs, unimpressed. “This meeting is now finished. Thank you, everyone, for your time.”

    And he stands up and exits the conference room before Kai can even say a word to him.

    Kai is in a terrible mood. Did he really just put in hours and hours of work, pore over countless spreadsheets and data tables, and complete a report meant for 5 people to finish over the span of a week just so he could be scoffed at by his father again?

Kai catches a glance of a corner of the financial analysis sheets. Hana. Did Kai really make her stay up late laboring for this pathetic treatment?

    Why can Kai never impress his parents?

    He barges through the doors of his apartment complex and angrily jabs the “Up” arrow on the elevator. Kai is a few steps away from throwing a full-blown tantrum. The compliments of the other executives bounce off of him; they mean nothing.

    It is only his father’s words that matter.

    Jamming the key into his penthouse’s lock, Kai shoves the door open-

    And is met with Hana, lounging on his sofa and chewing on a greasy slice of cheese pizza. Her gaze is fixed to the flatscreen television, fervently watching reruns of City Hunter.

    “Oh, you’re home,” Hana says without looking up. “I got hungry while waiting for you, so I ate a few slices of pizza. Don’t mind me.”

    Kai takes in her messy bun, her baggy sweats, and faded t-shirt in with widened eyes.

And just like that, it feels like all the frustration and ire building up inside of him has dissipated. The aroma of warm pizza, the informality of Hana making a mess of herself on his couch, and the familiarity of home soothe Kai in an indescribable way.

He throws his business case off to the side and plops down on the sofa next to Hana. She slightly bristles and angles away from Kai, but he pays no heed.

    “You didn’t get pineapple, right?” Kai confirms. When Hana rolls her eyes and nods, he sighs in relief. “Good.”

    “You don’t like pineapples because you despise all the sweet, wonderful things in life,” Hana grumbles. Kai throws her a scathing look and grabs a piece of pizza from the box sitting on the coffee table.

    “This is so good,” he mumbles between a mouthful of the warm, cheesy pie.

    “So how did your presentation go?” Hana inquires. Kai tenses, causing Hana to look over at him. “Oh. Did you mess up?”

    “It was okay,” Kai shrugs. “They liked your financial analysis.”

    “Good. They should’ve.”

    “They liked the whole presentation, actually.”

    “So why do you look so depressed?” Hana asks.

    Kai does not remove his eyes from the TV screen. “I’m not depressed. I’m happy.”

    “Yeah, your tone really conveys that feeling.”

    There is silence. The sound of Park Minyoung sobbing in a desolated room on screen fills up the mute resonance between Kai and Hana.

    Finally, Kai says, “My dad wasn’t impressed.”

    “Wait, did your dad watch the presentation?” Hana says, tilting her head in confusion. Then realization dawns on her features. “Oh, right. Your dad’s the CEO. Was he expecting something a hundred times better than what you put together?”

    “He wasn’t expecting anything, to be honest,” Kai says in a dull tone. “In fact, he prefers if I do badly.”

    “What?” She puts down her slice of pizza. “Um, why?”

    “I don’t want to talk about it,” Kai says tersely, but Hana persists.

    “Hey, you can spill. When I got my teaching degree I totally learned how to talk to my students and stuff,” she reasons.

    “Yeah, you’ve done a great job with that,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

    “Hey! I can apply myself when I want to.” Suddenly, a wonderful idea pops into Hana's head, causing her entire face to light up. "I know what we should do! Let’s play Fact-O-Rama!”