A/N: Apologies for the weirdness of this story... I myself find it very odd. I wrote both in present tense and past tense; hope that doesn't get confusing, because there are a ton of flashbacks...

“You don’t like me, Jihyo-ssi,” was what Gary had said the first time she’d confessed to him. She'd picked a Monday to confess to him- Mondays were special to her, because not only did they signify the beginning of a work week, but they signified the beginning of a week being spent with Gary. She’d spent the whole weekend planning exactly what she wanted to say and wear when she confessed. She’d even steeled her heart for rejection. But she wasn’t prepared for this kind of an answer.

She blinked at him. “What do you mean, I don’t like you?” She thought maybe she had heard wrong.

Gary coughed uncomfortably, looking at the ceiling, at the floor, at his laptop, at anywhere but her. “You, uh, don’t actually like me, Jihyo-ssi. You just think you do, but I think you’re confused, because you’re young and-”

“I’m pretty sure I know my own feelings very well,” Jihyo cut in. She was incredulous. Who was he to tell her that she didn’t like him?

Gary sat back and crossed his arms, finally looking at her. “Okay, then tell me why you like me.”

Jihyo opened to answer, but nothing came out.

Because she wasn’t, and still isn’t, exactly sure why she likes him. Maybe it's because of the way he always seems to know what she was thinking and what she wants even before she asks for it, like how he always knows to bring her an Americano on cold mornings and a strawberry banana smoothie at noon, with a chocolate on the side when she feels like it.

Maybe it’s because of the way he doesn't give up.

At that time, Jihyo was being difficult. She knew she was, because she was doing it on purpose, taking spontaneous vacations without her then-manager knowing (he'd quit two weeks later) on certain days when she felt too much pressure, snapping at her coordi when she chose her outfits, and being rude to the other talents in the agency. She hated being that way, but she had to- she hadn't wanted this job. She'd wanted to work in management, like her brother, the next in line president of their family's Song Entertainment, had before he'd been promoted. She felt like she had a good eye for scouting talent- all the trainees that she'd predicted would make it big did indeed become popular. But because she was a girl, her father had rejected her request, stating that management was more of a man's job and that she'd be better off an actress.

So she ran away. She acted up. She made sure that every person in the agency frowned upon her father's decision to debut her as an actress, and that they let him know it, too. But even though she was stubborn, her father was just as stubborn, so he sent in a new manager the day after her old one quit.

The new guy was a rookie- he'd never done managing work before. He had a plain face and didn't talk much, and when he did, he mumbled and stuttered without confidence. In other words, he was an easy target, no match for her harsh scoldings and constant escapades in effort to ditch him. Jihyo had been sure that he wouldn't last more than a week on the job, yet he continued to show up day after day, calmly and patiently apologizing whenever she scolded him unfairly, tirelessly searching for her whenever she tried to lose him and wordlessly sticking close to her when he finally did find her.

Maybe it’s because of the way he always knows where to find her when she's down.

That night, she'd just found out that her mother had passed away in a car accident. She'd run away from the hospital room after identifying the body, too shocked to believe it, too heartbroken to cry. He finally found her two hours later, curled up in a ball on a park bench in the next town. Even though she screamed at him to go away, he stood by her silently, blocking her from public eye and waited until finally tears coursed down her cheeks. And then he had just as quietly handed her tissue after tissue until she was finished.

Maybe it’s because of the way he makes her feel free; feel like herself in a world that tries to dictate her life.

She'd stopped trying to ditch him by then, because he was just too good at finding her. But suddenly, while sitting there in the audition that her father demanded her to attend just a week after her mom died, she felt suffocated. She was tired of putting on her closed-lip smiling, "I'm doing fine" poker face for the rest of the room to see, tired of feeling the stares of the bodyguards that her father had sent to make sure she would do the audition, tired of being strong when she was breaking apart inside.

Then she'd felt a warm hand cover hers. She turned and came face to face with Gary, who was watching her intently with his warm brown eyes.

"Jihyo-ssi. Do you want to leave?" He asked, so quietly that she almost thought she imagined it.

She managed a tiny nod. His grip around her hand tightened slightly.

"On three, then," he whispered. His eyes darted to the bodyguards at the back of the room. "One." He looked back at her and hastily fixed a pair of sunglasses onto her face. "Two." He jerked his head slightly towards the doors on the side of the room. "Three." Then he pulled her out of her seat, and together, they walked briskly to the side exit. The bodyguards realized soon after and hurried out after them. Gary pulled her along, breaking into a run.

"Faster, Jihyo!" He shouted, forgetting to speak formally in the heat of the moment. They ran through many buildings and parks, but the guards stayed hot on their heels. Jihyo pried off one of her flats and threw it into the face of one of the guards, taking him down. While she was running, her hand in his, she felt so light, so free. They finally lost them by ducking into a nearby coffee shop. When they saw the bodyguards run past the shop without noticing them, Jihyo let out a sigh of relief. Then she'd turned to Gary to find him smiling at her as they bent over, both trying to catch their breath. For the first time in days she let out a laugh, and soon the both of them were giggling away like schoolkids. She spent the rest of the day going to places that she and her mother had often gone to, reminiscing about the good old days.

Later, she found out that Gary had had his pay deducted by her father for doing such a thing, but he never said a word about it to her.

She isn’t sure why she likes him. But all she knows is that one day within the four years that he's been her manager, she suddenly realized that her heart beat faster when he was around, that she missed him when she didn't see him, and that she can't imagine ever being without him.

Gary turned away from her after a few moments.

“See, you don’t even have an answer for that,” he pointed out calmly. “You don’t like me, Jihyo-ssi.”

 “I do like you, Kang Gary!” she retorted. “I don’t have to have a reason for it.”

“You have a fan meeting at eleven today,” he informed her, as if she had never said anything.

“And who answers confessions with ‘You don’t like me’? You either say ‘I like you, too’ or ‘I don’t like you’.”

“Better get ready. The fan meeting will be out of doors, and it’ll be hot.” Gary continued, still ignoring her. He got up and stuffed his laptop into his bag. “I’m going to go get the car.”

Jihyo caught his arm before he could leave the room. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you going to say that you like me too, or are you going to reject me?”

Gary exhaled, his back to Jihyo. Then he turned to face her. “Trust me. You don’t like me, Jihyo-ssi. You wouldn’t want to like me,” he explained slowly, quietly. Then he gently removed her hand from his arm and opened the door to leave.  

She was infuriated by his gentle and patient voice, the kind of voice an adult might use on a child.

“That’s still not an answer!” She hollered at his retreating backside. “I’m going to confess to you every single day until you give me an actual answer!”

And she has kept her promise. Since that day, she has confessed to him at least once every day for almost a year. His answers have ranged from playful- “Thank you. I like me too.”- to serious- “Jihyo-ssi, you have your whole life ahead of you and so many better men to choose from.” – to flat out ignoring her. But she has yet to hear him reply with either consent or dissent. And that, perhaps, is the hope she holds onto- a foolish sort of hope, she knows, but one she’s contented to cling onto nevertheless.

Because she likes him. And that’s all there is to it.