Japan, like every other time I’ve set my foot here, is beautiful. The last time I went here was right before I started college, to accompany my mom and dad for a business meeting to open a branch of their restaurant here—before everything went to . Even though the word “Japan” leaves a bad taste in my mouth, I can’t deny that it’s still a beautiful city nevertheless.

Besides, I’m in Okinawa instead of Tokyo. Tokyo was the city I visited the last time I went here.

I didn’t get a wink of sleep during the whole flight from Seoul to here—I made the mistake of buying myself a cup of coffee that resulted in me spending the flight making pointers of how I should spin the public’s opinion on Byun Baekhyun for now. That and replying to a dozen of e-mails I couldn’t help but reply.

It’s amazing how money can make me do things I wouldn’t see myself doing otherwise.

Now I’m regretting that decision, though, because the sun is bright and up in the light blue sky shining down on the beautiful ocean located right next to our hotel, and all I can feel is my eyelids drooping down slowly but surely.

I take off my shoes, cardigan and jeans at the speed of light, throwing it on the floor or anywhere it lands with the flick of my hand. I don’t even spend any time to explore the beautiful suite or sightsee the beautiful sea practically plastered right in front of my face behind my balcony.

Placing my suitcase next to my bed with weak push, I fall face-first into my bed, giving my muscles the break it deserves. The bed is soft and fluffy, definitely one of those luxurious beds I don’t have the privilege to enjoy for a long time now, and I can feel myself getting roped into my dreamland as I listen to my own breathing. Finally, a moment to myself.

I roll over, making sure I don’t fall asleep face down, pulling the covers from under me to make myself more comfortable. I check my phone for the last time and make sure that the alarm for 6p.m where there’s supposed to be a dinner with all of the staffs together is on, before snuggling deeper into my pillows.

Then the doorbell rings, instantly waking me up, my body jerking in surprise. I almost scream.

Angrily putting on the bathrobe hung on the closet on my way to the door, I end up almost tripping twice and only tying the bathrobe halfway when I open the door.

“What is it?” I hiss, annoyed, struggling to tie the stupid fabric together before looking up to see whoever it is knocking at my goddamn door.

“Whoops, I thought that this was Minseok hyung’s room,” the guest replies, and I look to come face to face with the devil himself. Actually, it’s Byun Baekhyun, but he comes pretty close to dethroning the devil.

“What do you want to find Minseok oppa for?” I ask in an accusatory tone, eyeing him from head to toe. He’s dressed to the tee like he’s ready for the beach, in a green Hawaiian shirt and a pair of jean shorts. Even his hair is styled, and his sunglasses are hung on his shirt. I don’t have a good feeling about the way he’s dressing himself up.

“I just wanted to ask if he know where my rented car is parked,” he shrugs, acting the most casual he’s ever been in front of me. I frown.

“Are you… wearing make up?” I squint, taking a step closer towards him, examining every inch of his face with a glare.

“Of course I am—that’s basic decency! Seulgi would kill me if I stepped out in public with my acne displayed and all that. What are you, new or something?” he scoffs, taking a step back as if disgusted, “you would know.”

“I just got out of bed, excuse you,” I defend myself, “Besides, where are you going all dressed up like that? Do you even have permission to go?”

He laughs, looking at me in a way that makes me feel worse than I already do, hands tucked inside his pocket as if he’s posing for some magazine photoshoot.

“Do I look like a kid to you? I can go wherever the I want to—I’m not a kid. I don’t need anyone’s permission. Your paycheck is coming from my bank account,” he jeers. I never thought that I’d live a day where I’d be arguing with Byun Baekhyun in my bathrobe, but here I am, and I wish more than anything that he could at least be nicer with his words.

I know I’m just one of his ty staffs, but I’m working to help him keep his job, too, so it would be nice if he could at least have an ounce of respect for me.

“Where are you going?” I repeat my question instead, knowing that voicing my opinions out loud would end up as a lost cause when presented to a Byun Baekhyun.

“Out. It’s none of your business,” he replies curtly, and turns around to walk away before I can even say anything else. Instinctively, I chase after him, grabbing him by his elbow to stop him from leaving before I know what he’s up to.

“What the ?” he pries my hands off his arm harshly, but my grip reminds strong.

“I can’t risk you leaving and pulling another stunt like you did last time you were out alone,” I say through gritted teeth, determined to make him stay.

“I won’t!” he’s yelling now, exasperated, and it makes me take a step back in reflex.

“God, why did they hire a child like you to become Chanyeol’s replacement? That was a one-time thing! Do you actually think that I get wasted on a daily basis when I have a ten-year-old career running?” he’s pissed now, and it’s an emotion I’m more familiar with, and I find myself surprisingly calm at his outburst. It must’ve been the fatigue.

“Look, I know you think that I’m stupid and whatever, and I don’t care about that. I just want you to know where y