Hey there guys~

It's been a long time, right? It's like I've been doing Ramadan too actually...

It's been a bit hard for me to write lately, I hope I'll still make it through.

Here is a chapter a bit twisted maybe? I mean... I'm not sure I managed to write it like I had it in my head XD

Enjoy~

oO0°0Oo

Without waiting, Jaejoong went to his office and prepared everything he would need to do his job and make his appearance more natural, or at least, a bit less prepared. On his way, he bypassed many of the employees arriving at this hour but he didn't even spare them a glance. Smiling, almost radiating thanks to his own thoughts, he looked in another world, quite different from his usual self.

He didn't notice any of their circumspect gazes, nor the usual admiring and conniving looks from the women his unexpected attitude brought. His mind was clearly elsewhere, far from those people he didn't care about.

His fast steps were suddenly interrupted by a well-known voice calling him in the middle of an empty corridor. He slowed down a little, but didn't stop. The man called his name once again, louder, with more authority.

“Jaejoong. Don't think you can avoid me like this,” he said in Korean.

The man was in his mid-sixties, not very tall yet quite imposing in his sober dark suit. Behind him, his assistant stood silently, as if invisible for people to see, but clearly ready to answer his boss' any will. Jaejoong scoffed at the usual scene and turned to the two men with a bright innocent smile.

“Yes Daddy?” he replied in Japanese, in a soft over-sweet voice.

“I deserve an explanation. Do you imagine I am here to give in to your whims? His father grumbled in Korean again.

“It's not like you care about it, right?” Jaejoong finally replied in the same language, uncaring about the harsh way he talked while he kept his smiling façade.

After all, how could he care when it had exactly been the way he had been educated? Of course he had learnt how to properly smile and greet people, how to be polite and have the best manners, but above all he learnt that no matter what his real thoughts were, everything was fine if he nobody knew about it.

His father – because it was in father, indeed – raised his eyebrow and bit a lopsided smile. By just seeing them, they looked in perfectly good terms, gentle and polite with each other like family should be. But for the few people who could speak Korean, the conversation between them would probably be shocking.

At least, they could not deny they were related and there was no wonder about the way Jaejoong learnt his acting skills. Father were son were more than similar on that matter.

“It's so rare to see you talking so honestly,” Mr Kim noted as he observed his son with some kind of satisfaction.

“It's rare to see you, full stop.” Jaejoong ironised with a hypocritical chuckle.

Mr Kim ignored the remark and nodded with a little smile. Behind the good spirited atmosphere apparently displayed for a general audience, anyone with sharper eyes and Korean knowledge could feel the hard battle between both men through their looks.

“What do you want?” His father asked blankly, clearly not one to lose time when he could spare himself.

“Didn't I told you? I want to work in the Japanese marketing branch,” Jaejoong answered firmly.

“You already have a work, if I’m not mistaking,” Mr Kim said, sarcastically.

“Nothing that can't be done if I’m not around.”

“What about the contract with Katashima-san?”

“Signed of course,” Jaejoong scoffed.