Sungjong couldn't stop shaking.

Once out of Myungsoo’s office, he had sought refuge in the bathroom. He hadn't needed Woohyun’s booming voice outside the stall to know what he had done - Myungsoo had been pretty clear about it. He had singlehandedly managed to shred the reputation of the magazine and crush their long cherished dream – it had been all him.

Myungsoo’s image flashed in front of his eyes – his flushed face, the throbbing veins in his neck, his jutting chin, and clenched fist.

Sungjong couldn't believe he had done something like that. There was no reply he could give, he had no idea what had possessed him. He had been extremely nervous to meet Myungsoo face to face, terrified even, and he was shocked by the way the elder had behaved with him, but that was no excuse to misread 3 numbers.

If only he had brought his glasses with him or put on the contact lenses. If only he could have controlled his emotions better…

He felt pathetic. Even now, the fact that he was hiding in the bathroom made him pathetic.

He slid down to the floor, his back against the wall of the stall, as he tried hard to breathe properly. There was a constriction in his chest and a choking feeling in his throat that he tried to get rid of by gulping down. It didn't help that his head was spinning uncontrollably. Every bit of his body was starting to hurt. He thought he was going to faint when he heard Woohyun’s overbearing voice again, followed by loud bangs on the door of the stall he was in.

“Hey dummy, do you want the rest of the day off or what? There’s work to be done, the least you could do is to do your job! If you're going to kill yourself do it at home, don't bring us anymore trouble.”

“I'll be out in a minute,” Sungjong managed in a small voice, wiping off the tears on his face.

When he heard Woohyun’s footsteps growing fainter, he got out of the stall. Leaning over the basin, he splashed copious amount of cold water onto his face, steadying his badly shaking hands. Facing everyone would take a lot of strength and he was afraid he couldn't muster it. But he had to do it, there was no other option. When he ambled back to his desk, he found Woohyun talking with Taemin in a conspiratorial voice at his desk. They both greeted him with accusing glares. By now, everyone in the entire 12^th floor probably knew about what had happened and who was the culprit.

“Boss said you have to restock the files after he leaves and you're not allowed to go back tonight until you're done,” Woohyun announced gruffly, with a distasteful turn of his lips.

Sungjong nodded timidly. He knew worse punishment was to come but for now he'd follow every instruction without a word because he deserved it all.

Woohyun and Taemin continued like he wasn't even there, not bothering to keep their voices down as they lamented the loss of an opportunity to fly to Paris. However, they stopped short when they saw a tall man walking towards them.

“Is it true about the Paris fashion week?” The man asked Woohyun with urgency.

Sungjong noticed that Taemin had jumped off the desk the moment he had seen the man and adopted a somber expression.

“Yeah,” Woohyun nodded. “It's his fault.”

He pointed blatantly at Sungjong, who ducked his head, ashamed. He heard footsteps approaching him and the next moment the man was standing in front of him.

“You,” he was addressing him so Sungjong had no choice but to stand up and bow.

“Look at me,” the man ordered.

He raised his face a few inches.

The man looked handsome, maybe in his mid-twenties. He was wearing an angry expression which immediately changed into a confused blink and finally into a sympathetic turn of the lips.

When he spoke again, his voice was completely different from the tone he had used before.

“Hey, I heard what happened,” he said, his voice soft, “and I can’t even begin to understand how you feel er...”

“Lee Sungjong, sir.”

“Sungjong.” He put a gentle hand on his shoulder, making Sungjong very confused.

This man was so angry a moment ago, and that was understandable because he was probably looking forward to Paris fashion week like everyone else in this company, but why was he suddenly acting all nice to him?

“Would you like to come into my room and tell me what happened?” he persisted in his soothing voice.

Sungjong didn't know who the man was and he was unsure about what to do. He looked at Woohyun, who just glared at him more.

“I er…” Seeing that Sungjong was hesitant, the man said understandingly, “It's okay, stay here for now, you have to work. But whenever you have free time just come to my room okay? I'm Lee Minho. You know where Taemin's desk is, right? I'm his boss so my office is right there.”

Sungjong faintly remembered Taemin mentioning that he was the PA to one of the co-executive editors; so that was who the man was. That meant that he was second-in-command here, along with Kim Sunggyu. It was shocking indeed that someone like him would actually sympathise with Sungjong – he had expected to be chewed out.

“Yes sir,” he mumbled, not knowing what else to say. He could feel Woohyun’s intense stare on his face.

“Just call me hyung, okay.”

He patted him on the back, then left.

Taemin had left already and Woohyun was fuming at his desk, whether because of Sungjong or Minho, he couldn’t guess.

Sungjong didn't want to know what just happened but for some reason he felt a little better, having someone pat him on the back and asking him what was wrong, showing him even a little bit of empathy.

He shouldn't feel happy about it because it was his fault in the first place but he had been through so much emotional turmoil since the morning that Minho’s approach felt like a balm. He was grateful to the executive editor, even though he felt guilty for receiving his compassion.

The rest of the day, he tried to concentrate hard on his work. Woohyun was not being cooperative at all, but at least he didn’t have to meet his boss again, until 5 pm, when he left, but Sungjong didn't dare look at him, so he bowed low. He was conflicted about whether he should apologise to him, because when he was scolding him, he hadn’t been able to say a word. But he didn't have the courage to face his boss, at least not yet. He was still in a shock with this whole meeting a severely altered Myungsoo after so many years, and now he had just made everything so much more difficult between them.

Woohyun and everyone else on the floor left soon after. It was Sungjong’s cue to start on his work, and he didn’t need Woohyun reminding him, but he did anyway. After cleaning Woohyun’s desk, on his instruction, he pushed open the door to Myungsoo’s room. It was dark. He tried to feel his way for a light switch, or any switch for that matter, but didn't find any. He had forgotten to ask Woohyun how to turn on the lights in this room.

Sighing, he went back to his desk to get the torch he had seen there. He brought it back to the room, turned it on, and put it on a shelf. The small beam of light the torch emitted was not enough, but he had to make do with it. It was extremely difficult, trying to sort the files in minimal light. They were strewn all over the floor, all across the room, and he had to go back and forth, collecting them and bringing them back to the cabinet.

Diligently, he worked through the files, not checking the time once. At one point, his neck started to crick and his back started to tense, but he kept on going, trying to purge away some of the sin through the physical pain he was feeling. He was gathering up the last of the files from the floor when he felt a sharp prick on his finger. The sensation shot right back to his brain, causing him to grit his teeth. He quickly ran back to the dim light emanating from the torch to find a pool of red emerging from his fingers; he had cut them on shards of the paperweight Myungsoo had thrown at him earlier, no doubt.

Checking to see that there were no pieces in the wound, he pressed his fingers with the hem of his shirt, trying to staunch the blood flow. It hurt badly but he had nothing to wrap around his fingers and it was too dark in the room to find anything.

He was wondering if he should go back to his desk and get some tissues when he suddenly heard a creak followed by a click and the room was flooded with light all of a sudden. He whirled around, the scream he was going to utter dying in his throat.

Sungjong was a brave person but this situation and his emotionally vulnerable state made his heart beat wildly, causing blood to rise to his face. He didn't know who he had expected to find behind him, maybe even a ghost, but it was definitely not the man standing there, looking around the room. His eyes travelled all over Sungjong, fixing at his hand, which was still wrapped in the hem of his shirt.

“Are you bleeding?” Myungsoo asked, his face dark.

Sungjong looked down and noticed that his shirt was soaked with blood. Just how bad were the cuts for him to still bleed? But even more importantly, what was Myungsoo doing here at this time?

He could have forgotten something in the office, but what was so important that he had to come back and get in the middle of the night?

Can this get any worse?

“I just…” Sungjong muttered, taking a step backward instinctively.

He didn't know why his boss was back in the office but he could tell that he was tipsy from the way he was teetering back and forth. The Myungsoo he had known had been a decent kid but he had no idea about his current boss. A dark idea settled in his mind – what if he was actually here to murder him and hide his body? He had seen it happen in movies and dramas. Given the amount of Myungsoo's wealth, he would probably get away easily with Sungjong's murder. No one would know.

But seriously, is this the end for me?

Shaking his head exasperatedly, Myungsoo ambled up to a small cupboard by his table. He opened it and grabbed a box, then walked over to Sungjong, who was standing very still. All this time, he hadn't moved an inch and had watched Myungsoo shift around the room with terror filled eyes. When his boss approached him, he had a sudden urge to run away but he was rooted to the spot, too scared to move. His blood was frozen in his veins.

Myungsoo put down the box on one of the shelves of the filing cabinet, making Sungjong jump by the sudden closeness. He could even smell the alcohol on him. Ignoring the slightly trembling assistant PA, Myungsoo brought some cotton out of his box, which Sungjong now identified as a first aid kit, and soaked it in a bit of antiseptic.  Grabbing his bleeding hand, he gently mopped up the blood, making Sungjong’s skin sting but he didn’t dare to react. He was breaking out in a cold sweat.

What's going on, is he trying to poison me or something?

Even in his drunken state, he accomplished the task skilfully, finishing with putting on bandages.

Sungjong's insides were squirming with the urge to get away from this man but he wondered if that would be the wrong reaction. Maybe he could suddenly get violent and start hacking at him with whatever he found within his reach.

But it didn't seem like he had any other intentions than cleaning the wound and wrapping it with a band-aid. Why would he suddenly want to help him, someone he chewed out not so long ago? Clearly, Myungsoo was too drunk right now so he didn't know what he was doing.

“Go home,” he said after he was done, in an unusually steady tone for a drunken man.

“I - I can't, I er - have to...finish this job, sir,” Sungjong stuttered, scared that his boss might explode any moment.

You told me not to go home before I finish this, and even though you don't remember now, you'll slay me tomorrow if I leave this unfinished.

After staring at him for a while, Myungsoo said, “Okay.”

Wordlessly, he started to put back the files Sungjong had stacked on the floor into the cabinet, his movement unexpectedly coordinated. Sungjong could only gape.

“What?” Myungsoo asked, glaring back at the younger. "Are you going to finish this or not?"

Looking away, Sungjong started to gather the rest of the files. Together, it took them about fifteen minutes to clear away the rest of the files. Sungjong picked up his coat, as well as Myungsoo’s jacket, which he had dropped on a chair on his way in, because it didn't look like the elder would. They exited the office together, Sungjong remembering to lock it behind them.

He walked a feet behind Myungsoo, afraid to get too close to him. But when the elder staggered while trying to get onto the elevator, he jumped forward and stopped him from falling. They got into the elevator, Sungjong holding onto Myungsoo cautiously, lest he fell.

When they arrived at the basement, Myungsoo wanted to sit down for a moment.  Sungjong lowered him on the concrete step then let him go. He was sitting with his head between his knees, his skin pale - Sungjong watched him worriedly. He wasn't sure if he should just leave him there.  Technically speaking, he had no duty to look after the boss after hours, but he couldn’t just leave him there, no matter how awful he was to him.

What seemed like after fifteen minutes, Myungsoo got up. He looked better. Sungjong got up too, following him uncertainly. His gait was steadier as he walked up to his car. It was Sungjong’s intention to hand him his jacket and then take his leave but Myungsoo opened the door to the front passenger seat. Sungjong was baffled.

“Get in,” he said.

“I er...”

Heck, what is going on here?

Myungsoo motioned impatiently again. Sungjong supposed that he was offering him a lift and he tried to decline as politely as he could while stuttering and lisping. Myungsoo struck him down though and pushed him roughly into the seat. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat.

If truth be told, Sungjong wasn’t sure that it was a good idea for him to drive. Even though Myungsoo didn't look extremely drunk - he hadn't thrown up yet - he could still crash the car and kill Sungjong as revenge. But not wanting to go with him might lead to a fight, where he would get killed anyway because he was sure Myungsoo could overpower him; he'd watched the movies, he knew what happened in these kinds of situations.

But all the murder plots aside, this was completely strange for him, because this was the kindest Myungsoo had been with him since they’d met yesterday.

“Enter your address.” Myungsoo was pointing at his GPS.

Sungjong obeyed with unsteady hands.

Myungsoo gunned up the car and started driving. The streets were almost empty, and Myungsoo still manoeuvred the car with surprising agility, given that he reeked of alcohol. Sungjong's heart was beating loudly as he tried to sense what was going on. He was confused as to whether his boss was punishing him or if he was feeling sorry for being awful to him.

Throughout the ride, neither said a word. Sungjong felt trapped. He saw an opportunity for apologising to the elder for what he had done but he was too afraid to say anything. What if he was suddenly reminded of what had happened earlier today and did something rash?

I just want to get out of this car.

When they reached the apartment complex Sungjong lived at, he jumped down from the car, relieved. There was a tangible line of tension in the air as they were both confused as how to end this interaction. Finally, when Sungjong decided to speak, Myungsoo did too, at the same time.

 “I'm extremely sorry.”

“Don't be late with my coffee tomorrow.”

Myungsoo sped past him in his car while he held his breath. He was not getting fired and he was still alive. He couldn't believe his luck.

It was probably the worst day he ever had but he was feeling oddly relived for some reason. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the emotions he was feeling inside but he was certain that it was more than shame, embarrassment, and pain.

I’ll make it up to him, I promise.