As soon as the elevator doors opened on the floor to the Running Man offices many days after her episode filming, Jaye could tell something was going on. There was a certain atmosphere she could feel in the air, and she didn’t think she would like it.

She slowly peered out of the box and checked to her right and left. She didn’t see anyone, but she still felt weird about leaving the now apparent comfort of the elevator.

She was letting the doors close once again, since the sensor wasn’t detecting any movement, when a hand appeared out of nowhere to stop the doors from closing and Seungyoon stood in front of her, arms crossed but smiling like she knew something. Again.

“Moo-seun il-eeya?” Jaye asked with narrowed eyes. What’s going on?

“Ah-moo-geot-doh,” Seungyoon replied in a singsong voice. Nothing.

“Kohjimal,” Jaye said in the same tone as her co-worker/friend, and then deadpanned again. Lies.

Seungyoon just tilted her head to the right, still with the stupid grin on her face, implying for Jaye to keep walking into the offices.

She got skeptical, but did as Seungyoon motioned, slowly getting out of the elevator and entering her workplace with apprehension.

What she saw next literally took her breath away and she gasped quietly as her eyes widening.

Vases and vases and vases of yellow roses, her favorite flower, covered every surface of the huge room. There wasn’t any room to step any further into the space so all the staff just stood at the doorway, bewildered as what to do. Some had caught on quickly, after surveying the room and glancing over at Jaye once they spotted the one man standing in the middle of it all.

Mark.

Mark was the only contrast in a sea of yellow, wearing a navy blue suit and holding another bouquet of yellow roses; he only had eyes for her, and when she met his gaze, she started to cry and quickly made her way to stand in front of him, the only path made in the flowers.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted angrily at his face, tears streaming down hers, “Interrupting everyone’s life by doing this, how—”

He was grinning at her, cutting her off by covering .

“You’re the only girl I know who would get mad at a romantic gesture like this,” he said, trying really hard not to laugh.

“Yeah, well,” she muttered, shifting the weight of the backpack she was carrying, “I’m not wrong.”

“I told Jackson it was a bad idea, but he insisted,” he continued.