I spend the rest of the day after Byun Baekhyun’s interview refuting rumors here and there by responding to reporter and journalist questions about the superstar’s alleged drunk driving, and then chase the bastard that snitched on Byun Baekhyun.

The snitch turns out to be one of the bartenders that works at the club, the lousy excuse on him snitching on the superstar being “I needed the money”. I pay him the settlement money to keep his mouth shut, but not without giving him a piece of my mind and threatening him with a possible lawsuit if he continues to go forward with the story. The man is holding back tears by the time I finish yelling at him.

At this point, I just want to go home and shower. But there’s a pile of e-mail still left unanswered on my desktop, the notification of another new e-mail blinking at me as if mocking me from the bottom right of my computer screen. I swear out loud, rolling my shoulders backwards for a stretch, hoping to smooth out the muscle kinks that have appeared over the past few hours.

This seems to wake Seungwan who is asleep on her desk with a jolt, and she quickly asks me what time it is, scrambling to get her belongings scattered all over her cubicle. She’d been watching Yeri’s dance practice videos for a while, because as a manager she has to memorize them in case one of the backup dancers falls absent during an emergency. Yeri has just started to learn a new set of choreography for her upcoming mini-album.

“It’s a little over nine,” I answer uneasily, “do you have somewhere you have to be fast? I can drive you.”

I look around quickly for my car keys, but Seungwan dismisses me with a wave of her hand, shouldering her bag and laptop as she does.

“It’s fine, I just have a meeting with Yeri I’m supposed to be in at nine. I’ll take the cab. You should get home, those e-mails can be answered at the comfort of your own bed, bye!” Seungwan says quickly, leaving behind a flash of her brunette hair before disappearing completely out the door.

I vaguely remember Seungwan mentioning that Yeri isn’t supposed to have any pressing schedules for the next few days, but maybe something else came up that made them opt for an emergency meeting. Despite my unpleasant first and only encounter with Kim Yeri, I still pity the girl for having to live such a hectic life when she’s only nineteen.

At nineteen, all I remember doing was pursuing Junmyeon and throwing a tantrum for weeks on end when I found out that he was going to leave for the States. While being upset, I remember complaining daily about how hard college entrance exams were going to be, and that my parents needed to give me more pocket money than they already did.

Right. Junmyeon. I flip over my overturned phone on my desk and find to my dismay that there are another five missed calls from Junmyeon, and I thank heavens that there seems to have been no work-related calls ever since I left the phone on silence to answer my e-mails. I should probably start to have separate phone numbers for my work and my personal life, and that goes into the list of things that can always be done tomorrow.

I opt to call him back only to realize how my messy my desk has gotten compared to this morning, and decide that I should clean everything up and head back before calling him back to settle this petty fight once and for all.

Swearing yet again, I start from picking up the Kitkat wraps scattered all over the floor.

***

“Did you just get off work?” Junmyeon asks first, not even giving me a chance to at least say hello to him, even when I am the one who called him first. I take my sweet time to take off my heels and massage my sore feet, mood turning sour at the sound of Junmyeon’s voice, just so he has to wait for me instead I him.

“Are you really giving me the silent treatment?” he asks, voice tired, and my heart skips a beat imagining the tired face he has on every time he gets home from a long day at work. I sigh, and I hate it, because I realize that I’ve been sighing more than I have been for a long while these past few days.

“Can you just be a little more patient, please? I was just taking off my shoes—and yes, I’ve just got off from work. Do you have a problem with that, too?” I don’t mean to start another argument, but one thing just comes up after the other, and my words unintentionally escalates into the start of an argument I don’t want to fight.

“I just—I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly, rubbing my face, not caring if I’m smudging my make-up all over my face, leaning against the wall tiredly. “I just had a very long day and I didn’t want to end it fighting with you. Sorry.”

There’s a long silence at the other end of the line, and I take the time to turn on the lights and place my bag and all the other things I brought to work today away, phone still wedged between my ear and my shoulder as I wait for Junmyeon to say anything.

“You’re right. I’ve had a long day too. Let’s not fight anymore,” he says softly, and I feel myself let out a breath I don’t know I am holding, the tension in my shoulders subsiding almost immediately.

“Good, because I missed you. How did the meeting go today?” I ask, because I know how he likes to talk my ear off about work, and a few seconds later he’s already rambling about how great the hotel room his business partner has provided him there.

I wish I could talk about how horrible my day was for the past week, but I put a smile on my face instead, forcing myself to feel a little bit better than I did five minutes ago as I clean myself up to get ready for bed.