When Sungjong woke up from sleep the next morning, he didn’t want to go back to work.

The new kid on the block always got bullied, Sungjong knew that from high school. But they were past high school, everyone at Star Magazine; it didn't make sense for them to continue the whole 'newcomer gets bullied' attitude in the 'real life'. truth be told, Sungjong had never been that guy in the class who got bullied, neither in school nor in University, but he knew how the thing worked. When you have a newcomer, you view them as an outsider, someone who is invading your territory, so you flip out. Newcomers are also brillinat for showing off to because your classmates have seen enough of you and are not interested anymore. You have to assume this seat of power in front of them - that was like second nature to all teenage bullies. But this was reality, they were all sensible adults and yet it was just the same at high school, the only difference being Sungjong at the receiving end of the bullying.

Woohyun and the others were horrible for sure, but worst of all, Myungsoo was his boss. Not the gentle and sweet Kim Myungsoo he had known before, but an evil twin version of him, who was probably set on destroying his life. Woohyun had made it seem like that he was too unimportant to have any interaction with the chief editor, which had immensely relieved him, but - and maybe his luck was to blame – he had run into the man, got scolded and haunted by him, all on his very first day. With this sort of rotten luck, how long could he expect to have the job?

Clearly not long enough to get a good recommendation that would help him to get a job elsewhere. Every time he thought about it, he felt drained. Job hunting was one of the most difficult things he had ever done, and he didn’t want to go back down that road so soon.

Just let me survive this hellhole for a little bit longer, he prayed.

Fighting off the sleep in his eyes, he got dressed, then made himself some breakfast. He had been awake half of the night, trying to jot down everything Woohyun had told him, the rules and such, and also arranging his schedule. Remembering that he was supposed to get morning coffee for Myungsoo, which meant he had to go to a Starbucks before going to the office, he dropped his cereal spoon and rushed out, stuffing everything he thought he would need in his bag.

The rush at the subway was impossible, so was the line at Starbucks. He cursed each and every person who wanted a coffee in the morning and had no place else to go to than this very branch of Starbucks. He almost screamed at the barrista, who just gave him shrug and a glare. He also prepared his order extra slowly, as if to take revenge on him, and no, Sungjong was not imagining it.

When he had reached the top floor of his office building, with his bag on his shoulder and the coffee in his hand, it was 5 minutes past 9 and Woohyun was waiting for him, wearing a not-so-amused expression.

“So you decided to show up after all?” Woohyun said loftily, eyebrows raised, arms crossed. His eyes were shooting daggers at him and Sungjong just wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there forever.

Breathe, breathe, he chanted in his brain.

“I am so sorry I had to wait in line for-”

“You know what, I would love to hear your lame excuses but unfortunately, people at this office have real jobs and real work to do,” Woohyun said scathingly, not forgetting to glare at him. Sungjong almost retorted, asking him why he was pretending to be a high school bully then if he had a real job to do. He used to be that person in school who would talk back to anyone who tried to mess with him. But he caught himself at the last moment; arguing with his superior would earn him no favors with the man.

Sighing, he simply bowed. He was not going to this, it was easier to apologise anyway.

“What’s that?” Woohyun pointed at the coffee.

“A caramel macchiato for the boss,” he replied confidently, happy with himself for not forgetting this errand.

Let’s see how he messes me up this time…

“A caramel macchiato for me, you mean. Where’s the boss’ Americano?”

 You’ve got to be kidding me.

Sungjong's heart dropped. he could hear the dun dun of deathly drums in the background. He could swear that Woohyun had told him to get a caramel macchiato for Myungsoo; he had never mentioned an order for himself. Just how much did Woohyun, who had met him only yesterday, hated him to sabotage him like this?

Woohyun pressed his fingers to his forehead, looking disappointed. Sungjong couldn’t tell if it was an act or not, but right at this moment, he felt frustrated enough to jump off the top floor. At least that way, he would be free from all this.

“You’re the worst assistant PA I ever had,” he said, shaking his head slowly and wrinkling his nose with disgust. “Don’t just stand there, get the boss’ coffee!”

Sungjong jumped, and handing Woohyun his coffee, he sprinted away, back into the elevator. It seemed like nothing was going his way as a flock of people entered the elevator after him and pressed all sorts of buttons so that the lift halted at every floor. He wished he had just taken the stairs.

Back at the Starbucks, there was a queue again. It seemed to have gotten busier and it took him ages to reach the front of the line. Just to prove that it was not going to be his day, the barista who was taking his order turned out to be new and spilled the drink. Another fifteen minutes passed as she cleaned everything up, redid the Americano and handed him the paper cup.

When he was finally back at the office, huffing and puffing from all the running, he didn’t dare to check the watch. All he knew was that he was very, very late and very, very dead. To his surprise though, Woohyun was not at his desk. He had thought that the man would be waiting by his desk, like a butcher, ready to slay him the moment he arrived. He was glad because frankly, he didn't think he could deal with the PA right now; but the moment of relief didn’t last long. With a shiver, he realized that he would have to take the coffee to Myungsoo, which involved him walking into the lion’s den and meeting the lion.

Just let me die, that would be easier.

With trepidation weighing his gut down, he tiptoed to the large doors and knocked timidly. There was no response; he wasn’t expecting any. So with one last prayer, he pushed the door inward, and crept in, hoping he wouldn’t draw attention to himself. Maybe Myungsoo was really busy with some file or note and he would just slip the coffee onto his desk and slink away, and the man wouldn’t even realize it had been him.

He saw hope as he found Myungsoo immersed deeply in something on his computer. He walked up to the table, without the editor realizing that there was someone else in the room, and put down the coffee, all the while holding his breath.

Done!

Feeling that he had finally accomplished something today, he turned around to leave when Myungsoo’s cold drawl sounded behind him.

“Why are you so late?”

Sungjong’s heart stopped. How would he even begin to answer that question? Something told him Myungsoo was not interested in his explanation either.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Do you know I fired my last assistant PA for getting to a meeting ten minutes late?” His voice sounded like thunder and Sungjong’s insides shriveled. Maybe his second day at work would be his last. At least he lasted one day - maybe in his next job he would be able to set a better record…

“If I don’t get my coffee at 9 sharp tomorrow, you will have hell to pay. Get lost.”

He ran out of the room, all the way to his desk, and sank into his chair, catching his breath. At least he didn't get fired right away, he had another chance. Catching his breath, he turned to his desk, only to find a post-it note with a list of errands, no doubt left there by Woohyun. Frankly though, he wasn't even worrying about Woohyun. Myungsoo had the kind of aura with which he could make someone forget even their own name. You do not think of little demons when you have met the devil himself.

Every interaction with Myungsoo seemed to decrease his life span by half. At this rate, he wouldn’t have many years to live.

Save me.

---

Myungsoo couldn’t believe the nerve of Sungjong. Not only had the younger taken a job directly under him, he actually dared to not do his job properly on the second day. Woohyun must have told him when he was expecting his coffee. Sungjong, being the lazy, self-centered person he was, had properly ignored his superior’s instructions and brought in the coffee whenever he had felt like. It was a good thing Myungsoo had put him in his place; he had looked scared when he had threatened him. Fear was a new emotion he was seeing in Sungjong, but he was happy about it. Sungjong was too carefree; it’d be good if someone instilled some fear in him.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Myungsoo concentrated on the work at hand. He had yet to decide what would be the theme of the next issue of the magazine, not to mention he had to prepare for the Paris Fashion Week. After the examples he had sent them, there was no way they would be rejected. He was actually waiting for the good news – it should be any moment now.

After half an hour, Woohyun’s voice floated through the intercom.

“Mr. Kim is here.”

“Send him in.”

A moment later, Sunggyu burst through the door, looking outraged.

“They rejected us!” he shouted, before Myungsoo could ask anything. It was easy to guess who ‘they’ was from the executive editor’s reaction. Myungsoo was thundered – the idea had never occurred to him that they would actually be rejected. The word bounced off his skull, growing in intensity until it exploded - they had been rejected!

“That’s ridiculous…after the examples we sent in…”

“You mean these?”

Sunggyu threw the file onto his desk. Frowning, Myungsoo picked it up and flipped through the pages, and as he did, his expression grew darker. He went back to the cover, which was marked with a bold 901 in red.

This file was familiar – the rejects file, where he kept all the designs that had been rejected by the board.

Sunggyu ran his fingers through his hair, his narrow eyes squinted in anger.

“I can’t believe Woohyun would make a mistake like this-”

“It wasn’t Woohyun.” Myungsoo’s voice was cold. Unknowingly, he was squeezing the file in his hand, digging his nails into the paper as uncontrolled anger gushed through his veins. His hands shaking, he pressed the button that summoned his PA. Barely containing his rage, he told Woohyun to send in Sungjong.

Sunggyu, who had a grim look on his face, said he would go and try to talk to the people who had reviewed their file, telling them that it had been an honest mistake. He walked over to the double doors, and while he let himself out, he let Sungjong in.

Just the sight of his assistant PA set fire to Myungsoo’s bones.

He clearly remembered telling the younger to get the file labeled 706 yesterday.

“Sir, you called…”

Myungsoo didn’t let him finish.

His fury knew no bounds and he let it all out. He didn’t care that probably the entire floor could hear him, but everyone else at this office were familiar with his wrath, except for Sungjong. If Sungjong had thought he would get special treatment, he was wrong. Myungsoo shouted for what seemed like hours, until his voice was hoarse. He said the most cruel, rude, and hurtful things possible. He was saying the things that would Sungjong the most pain because he wanted him to feel the despair he was feeling at the rejection. He planned every word, like they were daggers, and threw them at the younger, who was pale with shock. Like a knife, his voice attacked him, stabbing him, and by the end of it, Sungjong was red in the face with tears streaming down his cheeks, his hand pressed over his mouth.

It didn’t matter that Sungjong looked so scared and vulnerable; he didn’t care that the younger looked like he would pass out any moment – he just let the devil in him take over and hit Sungjong like a freight train, mash him to the ground.

You screwed my life once, and you dare do it again?

Not satisfied from just talking, he walked over to the filing cabinet and started pulling the files out, throwing them haphazardly around the room. Some of them flew across his office, all the way around his desk, hitting the walls and other furniture. Some of them hit Sungjong as well but he couldn’t care less. Madness had possessed him and he had to let it all out.

He had been dreaming about attending the Paris Fashion Week for ages – it would have been his great achievement, another feather in his hat, but Sungjong had to go ahead and ruin it because of a stupid mistake. He was an educated adult, was it too much to expect that he would be able to read numbers correctly?

As much as he would like to think that this outburst had nothing to do with their bitter past, he knew that that wasn’t the case. It had been a long time since he had learned to hate Sungjong with passion and even though he had wished not to bring those feelings to the present, bits of them were crawling out from the darkest craters of his heart, poisoning his consciousness.

“Get out of my sight this instant,” he spat at him.

When Sungjong didn’t move, Myungsoo picked up a paperweight from his desk and hurled it at his assistant PA. The small cube hit the wall inches to the right from where Sungjong was standing and shattered into pieces.

“Get lost!” Myungsoo repeated.

This time, Sungjong left, looking aghast and trembling from head to toe.

Myungsoo let his head drop down to the table and tried to calm himself down. The blood was pounding in his ears as adrenaline sped up his heart. He felt his blood stop boiling but the anger was very much alive in him.

Beneath the anger, the frustration, and the disappointment, he felt something else, something more raw and painful. It was not until he had significantly calmed down that he realized that it was guilt.

Sungjong’s flushed face, streaked with tears flashed across his eyes.

I hate you Sungjong, I hate you.