Chapter 5

The clock has struck 2pm and there is a debate in my head if I should take my lunch break now or wait until one of the senior workers stands up first. I don’t want to be categorized as rude or give the impression of abusing my status. Maybe, I should just order in? I’m just so hungry. My office phone interrupts my decision-making and wait until the second ring to pick up.

“The Arctic Queen is approaching. I repeat the Arctic Queen is approaching.”

“. .” I scramble to gather strew of papers scattered about on my desk. You wouldn’t understand the urgency until you experiment it yourself.

“Good luck, Maggie.” Hana, or otherwise known as our receptionist, hangs up after giving me an alert. The warning itself is a code for when my mother pops in for a visit at the company building. It rarely occurs but Hana and I have an arranged agreement for when these situations ensue. Not giving said that my mother works for the company along side my father but they reside in the first corporate building CSP opened. We have other branches in Seoul. My department is the largest at the moment.

All the same, my mother’s visits are a nerve wrecking experience. Given notice she takes upon the opportune moment to criticize absolutely everything there is to pick on. My desk organizing skills definitely is one of them.

The clear glass door swings open and I swear you can feel the room temperature drop several degrees. I exaggerate not. Why else would I be shivering?

“Hello Mother.” I immediately bow to greet the austere woman in front of me.

“Have you eaten lunch?” She questions and grimaces at the mess on my desk. As for I, ignore the fact she doesn’t return the greeting. Not that she ever did, really.

“Not yet, ma'am.” I answer.

“Good. Gather your things we will leave at once.” She circulates her brisk eyes around the room. “And tell your secretary to clean up while you are gone.” Well, that resolves my lunch dilemma but the question is will I still be hungry when I sit down across from my mother. There’s an 80% chance she might criticize my weight and suggest that I diet. 

“I don’t have a secretary.” I inform her. I’m surprised she even asked really.

“What?” She frowns and I am not sure how to respond. “I will speak to your father to hire one.” She pulls out her hand phone and rapidly types in a message.

“Thank you, but that is not necessary. This is only my first year in the company and it wouldn’t be fair for the other workers-” She raises her hand to stop me from speaking any further.

“Nonsense. Your brother had one the first day he started working in the company. You should too. Besides someone needs to keep your office uncluttered.” On that note, she ends the discussion and indicates to follow her leave.

I grab my coat and bag and dash to catch up to her pace. This is the first time my mother has ever considered me as an equal to my brother. Maybe June was right.

The elevator ride to the lobby is silent and I fight the urge to address the purpose of her sudden visit. Are things between my brother and her really that bad? And why do I have to be the one to bear with this newfound attention. Sure, I had hoped my mom would one day take me in consideration and we would have that mother-daughter relationship I had always dreamed of. But who am I kidding?

“Have you done something different your hair?” I’m startled by the abrupt moment of speech.

“Yes. I cut it last week.” I reply carefully. No one with the exception of Taewoon had noticed the two inches of hair I had cut off. Jiho on the other hand only notices when the fridge is fully stocked.

“It looks nice.” She folds her hands in front of her and looks straight ahead. I try not to let my jaw hang. If she is complimenting me, then things are definitely askew.

                                     -----------------------------------------------------              

“Oh, your hair does look nice.” I am back in apartment with my three closest friends Jenny, Talia, and Ken, for a girl’s night. I am briefing them about my lunch date with my mother. Of course, Jenny would interrupt mid story to compliment me on my hair.

“Thank you for noticing.” I push Jenny roughly with my palm; she is sitting cross-legged on the couch beside me. She snorts, only tumbling a tad on her side of the sofa. Her waist long, raven-black hair falls forward covering her sharp eyes. Jenny is considered a natural beauty, she fits perfectly in the ideal woman category: slim waist, tall (5’7”), long legs but with a fierce personality. She would easily make into the idol or model market but she claims to have zero talent or balance.

“Oh, ignore her. Girl, your hair always looks nice.” Talia my favorite red head tosses popcorn at Jenny. I met Talia through Ken. They dated in high school to help Ken through his confused preferences he lived in fear of. Talia is petite is stature but wild curly red-locks and big round eyes, and bright personality distinguishes her from the rest.

“Thank you.” I grab some of the popcorn that has landed on my lap and eat it.

“So, what else happened?” Ken brings a tray of homemade egg rolls he prepared at home. The original plan was for all of us to cook. But with the exception of Ken, we got lazy and ordered take-out instead.

The doorbell rings before I can continue with my story. I grab my wallet and open the door.

“Jiho. You are not Chinese.” I had been expecting the food deliveryman. Instead my best friend was outside my door in an olive green jacket, baggy jeans, and boots. Blonde hair sticking out from underneath his gray beanie, I opened the door wider to let him in. 

“Korean actually.” He smirks.

“Zicoo!” Jenny calls from the couch and waves.

“We’re having a girl’s night. And Ken.” I correct myself , aware of the glaring individual behind me. He hates being acknowledged as one of the girl’s.

“I can see.” Jiho steps further into the apartment and closes the door behind him. He greets my friends and addresses me again. “Can I speak to you for a bit? Privately.” The room has become suddenly silent. Was that a squeal I just heard?

“Sure.” I lead him to my bedroom; while, ignoring Jenny’s snickering and Ken giving us the thumbs up for no particular reason. I swear my friends are weird.  Once we are behind closed doors, I nervously speak, “so, what do you want to talk about?”

“Truth is I miss having you around. Perhaps, we can disregard what I had said to you. Clearly, I had made you uncomfortable but all I really want is my best friend back.” Jiho wholeheartedly confesses in a different manner for the second time. I should feel a certain kind of relief over these words, shouldn’t I?

“So are you saying you no longer have feelings for me?” I know the best thing to do is to just let it go and accept it. Accept for things to return back how they were a month ago. But my mouth is doing that thing when nonsensical words are spilling out. And was that disappointment in my tone? Impossible.

 “No.” He pauses. “I don’t think that will ever change but I will take back in wanting you to see me differently than how you already do. Let’s just be Jiho and Maggie, nothing more.” I nod dumbly. I nod because I don’t have anything else to say and because I’m afraid I might say something I shouldn’t. Jiho pulls me into a hug and I admit to myself that I have missed this. “So, can I join in this girl’s night?” Jiho does his awkward aegyo in order to convince me to say yes. I’ll let him spend the night if he promises never to make that face again.

“Okay, okay. Just stop doing that weird thing with your face. It’s disturbing.” I try to scowl but Jiho’s content smile is contagious.

We rejoin our friends in the living room, entering just as the delivery guy had arrived. Talia and I may have gone a little overboard with ordering food but with an extra stomach to feed in the group our gluttony came in handy. The four of us sit down to eat blissfully.

Of course, when alcohol is involved stupid games come to play; such as, charades and more drinking in the mix. Out of the three of us Ken isn’t one to participate in such manners. Besides being assigned as the designated driver, he also has low alcohol tolerance. He prefers to remain sober.

Believe or not, Talia is the heavier drinker in the group. Though with her small frame her resistance isn’t too high either. She’s a happy drunk. I am more of a controlled drinker. I know my limits and refrain myself doing something stupid. As for Jenny, she can out drink anyone. Well, from what I’ve witnessed.

“, I have to go.” Jenny rolls her eyes at her phone and turns to look at Ken and Talia apologetically. We are in the middle of that game where one reveals truths about themselves but from the looks of things the game is now over. “Sorry, guys.” She stands.

“Is everything alright?” Talia asks concerned and hiccups.

“Kris. You know.” Jenny scoffs. Another thing about Jenny is she works with SM. She has been in the company since before Exo debuted. Actually she is one of the assistants that arrange the schedules. In a way she is like a manager but without the title. She works mostly with Exo but recently there’s been a rift with one of the boys.

“That’s fine. It’s getting late anyways and I don’t think Talia should be drinking anymore.” Ken stands and helps Talia to get up. She stumbles a bit. We tend to joke that Ken is like a mother to us. He and Talia are inseparable. An unlikely couple one would say.

“That’s right. I have an interview with MBC tomorrow.” Talia giggles. She clings on to Ken and he steadies her out the door.

“Sorry, we didn’t finish talking about your lunch date. I’ll stop by for tomorrow and then we can talk.” Jenny hugs me before she leaves.

With everyone gone, Jiho stays behind to help me clean up. Which in my book is a first. I washed the dishes while he dried and put the dishes away. In the correct spot I might add. When we finished Jiho went straight to the couch to lie on this back.

“That was exhausting.” He proclaims.

“I can’t even image how your room must look like.”

“It’s not that bad. Jaehyo and Yukwon tend to clean once in a while.” Jiho turns to lie on his side to face my direction. I’m sitting on the recliner across from him. “What did Jenny mean not being able to talk about your lunch date?”

“Oh, that. My mother stopped by to have lunch with me. There are some bizarre things occurring within my family.” I shrug my shoulders. The more I think about my family the more it troubles me apprehensively. I’ve been so accustomed being in the shadows the sudden spotlight is unnerving.

Jiho gets up and walks towards my room.

“What are you doing?” I call after him. He walks back with my comforter and pillows. Jiho sets my sheets on the ground, grabs some chairs from the kitchen and begins to build a fort like how I taught him.

“Now we can talk.” He says after he finishes. My insides flutter in awe. When Jiho would be overwhelmed over recording, practicing, and schedules he would come over to escape it all (for at least a short amount of time). My father used to build indoor forts for my siblings and I, after our mother was upset with us. With Jiho, I started it to create a stress-free zone and to let him vent out if he needed to. I didn’t expect Jiho to do the same for me.

We lay underneath our homemade tent and I tell Jiho everything from having dinner with my family, Jason’s unexpected engagement, June, and my mother’s new expectations of me in the company and in the family.

“I don’t know if I can handle all of that.” I confess. “I’ve been so used to being in the third child. What if I disappoint her?” It’s a fear I live in severity. My choice in dedicating my time and work to the company is defined by wanting to declare my existence to my parents. My father built this company from the ground. I want to participate in the expansion. Perhaps, one day we will be settling a building in the states. Fortunately, I don’t have to explain all this to Jiho, he knows about my uneasy sentiments involving my family.

“Maggie, you are much stronger than you account yourself to be. You know that sassy attitude you give me time to time. You can be a kickass CEO if you’re confident enough. The Zico you see onstage is not the same Jiho you see here.” I notice how similar Jiho’s smile is to Taewoon; his lips aren’t as fuller as his older brother’s but his face is slimmer. I need to remind him to eat more.

“Yea, Jiho is more presumptuous than Zico.” I yawn and nestle into my pillow.

“There it is.” Jiho chuckles at my snarky answer. “Channel that and use it to prove to your mother that she should have noticed you from the beginning. Maggie, you are an amazing person.”

I yawn again and nod sleepily. “Thanks, Jiho,” manage to mumble before straying to asleep.