. . . 

Yongsun seemed different and it wasn't just because she had changed her hair colour ("Oh my god, you're blonde!" Jinah had squealed in delight). She was still intimidating as ever but she was also . . . nicer? Her subordinates initially felt uneasy at the change, wondering if there was perhaps a downsizing in the immient future but after several weeks, no such announcement had been made and so one by one, they slowly relaxed and basked in their new pleasant work environment. That is not to say that Yongsun had changed completely, there were moments where she had reprimanded a few people but even so, it was much less frequent nowadays.

Megan Park was no stranger to Kim Yongsun's angry outbursts which most often leave her with goosebumps crawling all the way up her arm at the intensity of her boss' stare when something goes awry. With her job having to hover around her 24/7, it made sense that Megan would be the first of many to notice this subtle change in Yongsun's demeanor, what didn't make sense however, was what could have caused such a change. It was slowly approaching a year since Megan had started working for Kim Yongsun, much to her family and friends' chagrin - they often (and still do), voice their disapproval towards the woman's work ethic and towards her as a person. Megan, however, disagreed. To her, Kim Yongsun was a straightforward person albeit at times, a cold person but nonetheless, the woman was somone who she deeply admired. To have already achieved so much at such a relatively young age, made Yongsun seem invincible in the fashion industry. With that in mind, and with a dream to hopefully follow in her footsteps, Megan squashed down the negativity that her family and friends projected and instead, faced every challenge that Yongsun threw at her with a smile on her face and a determined attitude. No matter what was thrown at her, Megan was able to persevere.

Today, however, was something entirely unprecedented. 

Megan's breath hitches at the back of as she stares with an open mouth at the small, hot cup of coffee waiting for her on her desk with a small memo: Thanks for your help at the gala. Keep up the good work. She drops down onto her seat with a dumbfounded expression, her eyes never leaving the coffee in fear that if she turns away, her only form of proof of her boss having a caring side, will vanish.

Slowly, she picks it up, studies it for a moment and takes a small sip. Her eyes widen at the familiar taste. It was a caramel macchiato, her go-to drink. She places the coffee back onto the desk and leans back on her seat. She figures that it will take several hours for her brain to process Yongsun's kind gesture. 

. . . 

It is currently close to midnight and Yongsun is quite close to biting someone's head off. She types away furiously, taking out her anger on every little letter key she hits with a thud. "Stupid morons," she grumbles to herself. Why is it so hard for people to do their jobs properly? Is that too much to ask? She runs her hands through her hair in frustration. Perhaps she has been far too lenient with these people. Just because she has been preoccupied with other things lately, they think they can just slack off? She takes a deep breath and makes a mental note to schedule a team meeting on Monday morning at 9am sharp. She decides that she can vent out her anger then, but for now, she needed to calm down and get to work on her editorial article. 

She boots up the document that she had been working on earlier, before that diaster of a phone call that had triggered her angry outburst. Not much has been written and after almost 45 minutes of just staring at the insertion pointer that was blinking non-stop, taunting her, she gives up and starts to reply to emails instead. Annoyingly, just when she is typing out her talking points for Monday's meeting to her assistant, her phone starts ringing. Not bothering to look at the caller ID, she answers it, holding it between her ear and shoulder, "What?" she barks, assuming it was the employee from earlier calling to make up so other excuse for their incompetence. 

"Is this a bad time?"

Yongsun stops typing at the sound of Moonbyul's voice. Ever since their long text conversation (which was almost two weeks ago now), Moonbyul has slowly embedded herself into Yongsun's daily routine to the point where she can not recall what it was like to not receive a text in the morning and in the evening, asking her about her day or detailing something interesting her professor had said (to which Yongsun tries her best to follow along to but ends up becoming even more confused afterwards) or just film reccomendations. However, lately those texts have become much more inconsistent and despite Yongsun having plenty of deadlines to be adhering to, she has noticed. She is probably working on her deadlines too, she had told herself, during those brief moments where her fingers had hovered over the 'call' button on her phone.

Yongsun relaxes her shoulder, holds the phone in her hand instead and leans back onto her couch, "Haven't heard from you in a while," she comments lightly. 

"Did you miss me?" Moonbyul asks with a quiet laugh

Surprising both herself and the girl, she utters, without missing a beat, "Yes."

"Oh." Moonbyul pauses, clearly taken aback by her sudden forwardness, "Sorry. It's been a long week."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," her voice falters a bit, ". . . No." 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh.." she lets out a shaky breath, "Are you busy?"

Yongsun eyes flit to her abandoned laptop and without even a moment of hesitation, she closes her it (she makes sure that the 30 words that she had written earlier were saved before doing so). "No, not at all," she says, "What's up?"

"It's nothing too serious, I'm probably just overthinking things." 

"Well no matter how big or small, if it's making you feel down then I think it's best if you talk to somone about it instead of bottling it all up," the older girl says but quickly adds, "I'm not saying that person has to be me but I'm happy to listen."

Moonbyul doesn't say anything for a while, which makes Yongsun wonder whether she has lost signal on her phone, "Are you still there?" she asks, unsure. 

"Yeah. I'm just thinking about where to start," 

Yongsun settles into her couch, "Okay."

"My dad left me and my mom when I was 18," she says bitterly, "He has since remarried and is the happiest he's ever been. "

"Oh."

"He hasn't bothered to kept in touch over the years, we were never that close but it just , you know?" her voice grows quiet and is barely audible, "To see him smile that way towards his step-daughter yet . . . " her voice trails off for a moment as she gets lost in her train of thought. She lets out a wry laugh, "Sorry, just thinking about it makes me so . . . I don't even know why I'm so upset over this. "

Yongsun bites her lower lip in nervousness in fear of saying the wrong thing. Comforting someone was something that she didn't particularly excel in. If she is being completely honest, she initially thought that the younger girl was having problems with her class assignments; that would be easy to console but this, was something of a whole other level. "You're hurt. It doesn't matter if you weren't close, he's still your father. And I know this may seem biased, but your dad ."

The older girl smiles in relief when she hears the other girl let out a genuine laugh. 

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" she says in agreement. Not wanting to dwell on her family baggage, she then asks, "I'm guessing your family isn't as screwed up as mine?"

"My family are very narrow minded," Yongsun says with a hint of sadness, "When I was growing up, they had my life all planned out and dictated every aspect of it." She stops for a moment to gather her feelings; to this day it still is a sore subject for both parties. No matter how successful Yongsun has become, she knows that she will never be on par with her siblings in her parents' eyes, which is why she is a perfectionist when it comes to her job. She has already disappointed her parents, there is no reason to disappoint her employers as well. "My parents wanted me to do medicine, so imagine their surprise when I applied for journalism instead."

Moonbyul chuckles lightly and despite not knowing the reason for the girl's laughter, Yongsun finds herself smiling anyway. 

"What? What's so funny?" she asks softly

"Nothing."

"Tell me," she urges.

"I was just thinking back to the first time we talked, do you remember?" 

Yongsun cringes at the memory of her silly mistake of misspelling her wifi password and adamantly says, "No."

"I'm just saying, you definitely don't have the bedside manners for a doctor," the younger girl says jokingly in an effort to lighten the mood, "You were quite icy at the start."

Yongsun mulls over the memory of that very first phone call and grimaces ever so slightly as she recalls the reason as to why she was so moody that day. "In my defence, I was having a rough day," she eventually says, "I'm usually a bit nicer."

"Oh?" 

"My boyfriend dumped me on that day," she says matter-of-factly.

"Oh," Moonbyul hesitates for a moment before asking, "And is he the reason for why you were upset last time?" 

Yongsun shudders at the mention of that infamous night, "Yes . . . well, partly."

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

Yongsun frowns at this. She has a bad habit of talking about her own problems when she comforts people (a habit which she is constantly trying to break free of). "Shouldn't we be focussing on you?"

"Don't worry," Moonbyul assures her, she stops for a moment. There is more to her story, Yongsun thinks to herself, but right now it seems as if the younger girl wants to talk about anything else but her own problems. Her thoughts rings true when the girl says, "I kind of just want to distract myself. But I don't want to force you to tell me . . .  only if you want to."

Yongsun stands up from her couch and wanders into her bedroom and shuts the door behind her. She decides that if she was going to talk about that night then she would much rather do it in the room she feels the most comfortable in . . . and the safest. "Well. Okay," she starts, "I had a work event that night."

"Mhmm." 

And so Yongsun tells her everything that happened that night, about bumping into her ex and being eyed up by gross men (to which Moonbyul makes a noise of disgust). However, Yongsun neglects to tell her about the part where she had played hooky with one of the staff members of the catering service. That, she thinks to herself, is a memory only for herself and her partner in crime. Besides, it's not like that part was relevant to her story. If anything, it was most definitely the highlight of that wretched night. She could feel herself getting sidetracked, and momentarily pushes away the mental image of the stranger's smile. 

She feels her voice begin to tremble slightly as she tells Moonbyul about the end of that night. How she had patiently waited at the bar whilst Jinah went to the toilet. How she noticed one of the men from earlier that night, sidle up beside her at the bar. How he seemingly tried to make conversation with his mouth, whilst his hand started groping her from behind. She tells her about the fact that her ex had witnessed everything yet did nothing. Moonbyul doesn't say anything, perhaps knowing that she has more to say so she continues, "The man had left by the time Jinah came back. I came home and just cried. I guess it was at that moment when I started to fully process the situation," she hugs her legs tight against her chest and rests her forehead aginst them, "I wanted to talk to someone but not someone who knew me. I just didn't want them to worry and start questioning why I was messaging them late at night." Her voice grows much quieter as she murmurs, "I just wanted someone to . . . "

Moonbyul breaks her silence and finishes her sentence for her, "Talk to."

"Yeah." Yongsun positions her elbow on top of her knee and rests her temple against her closed fist and exhales, "I'm actually kind of grateful that you called that night."

There is a slight pause as she realises something, "Sorry. It sounds like I was using you."

"Using me?"

"Yeah. To comfort myself."

Moonbyul is silent for a moment but then says gently, "Well then if that's the case, then I'm using you right now."

"Why? Is my voice soothing?" she asks sarcastically

"Yeah, your voice is comforting," the younger girl says simply, to which Yongsun bites back a smile and clears when she feels the tips of her ears going slightly warm at the sincerity in the girl's voice. "You may be the only person on this planet that thinks so," she tells her.

"Really?" Moonbyul says with amusement, "I guess that makes me special." 

Yongsun hums in agreement, "I guess so."

Moonbyul sighs deeply, "In all seriousness though, I'm sorry that happened to you. I hope you feel better now."

"I do," the older girl says earnestly, "Much better." 

"Good," she says and opts to change the conversation to a lighter topic, "So what were you doing before I called?"

"Just working on my editorial piece and replying to some emails,"

"Ah. So you were busy," 

"Just a little," Yongsun admits but then quickly adds, "But you sounded like you needed someone to talk to." 

"It's weird, isn't it?" Moonbyul muses quietly

"What is?"

"How we don't even know each other but we can easily confide in one another." 

"It is. But I guess it makes sense. It's because we don't know each other, it makes it that much easier."  

"True, but don't you think it's weird that we don't even know what the other looks like?"

Yongsun quirks an eyebrow, "And why are looks important?" 

The girl sighs dejectedly, "I don't mean it in a superficial way." she pauses and for a moment it seems as if she's about to say something else but then decides against it, "I . . . never mind," she says stubbornly.

The older girl grins, "Not to sound too narcissistic, but I am pretty." 

"Yeah I know," the younger one says almost as a whisper.

Yongsun snorts, "And how do you know, exactly?"

"You have a pretty voice," she says simply.

This time, it is not only Yongsun's ears that go warm but rather her entire face. She ignores the compliment (and how her heart rate has slightly quickened in pace), "For the record, I don't think it's weird at all."

This seems to surprise Moonbyul, "Oh?"

"Yeah. It has this mysterious element to it, don't you think?"

"I suppose so, kind of like having a pen pal but via phone call . . . a phone pal." 

"Can we keep it like this?" Yongsun asks and it is one of the rare times that her voice is soft and vulnerable

Moonbyul seems to catch on to what she means, "Ah. Keep the mysterious element?"

"I just don't want to ruin this, it's quite nice having a mysterious confidant."

The younger one teases, "Why? Are you worried that I might start liking you once I see that your face matches your voice?"

"Maybe."

"And what if I start liking you because of your voice and our emotional connection?" she challenges, though her voice holds no conviction which makes Yongsun know that the girl is merely trying to .

"Well then, that's your problem," she states.

"And what about you?" 

"What about me?"

"Who's to say that it won't be you that falls for my voice?"

Yongsun laughs, "Trust me. That won't happen," she says firmly

"Do you not like the sound of my voice?" Moonbyul asks. 

She blinks in surprise, was Moonbyul upset? Her intention was not to offend Moonbyul, she was just stating the facts. For Yongsun, the chance of liking someone she has never met is a concept that she associates with movies. It is absurd; to like someone that you don't truly know. Add on the fact that she has just gotten out of a relationship . . . She starts to frown at the tsunami of thoughts that come rushing into her head. Perhaps this is a bad idea. Before she can voice her thoughts, Moonbyul says, "You're really gullible, you know that?"

"Wh-what?"

"I'm just kidding. You don't need to panic," she reassures her, "Besides, I know what you mean, with the whole keeping the mysterious vibe to . . . whatever this is." 

Yongsun relaxes her tense shoulders in relief, "I do," she says so quietly that the girl almost doesn't hear her.

"Huh?"

"I do," she repeats again, this time with much more confidence, which dissipates almost instantly when she murmurs the last part, "Like your voice, I mean." 

"Well good," Moonbyul says cheerfully, "Because you'll be hearing a lot more of it." 

. . . 

author's note: i just want to say thank you for all your nice comments on the previous chapter. Hope you enjoy this one! Have a nice day :)