chapter four

i'm different
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chapter four

i r e n e

 

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The theory of reincarnation seems like a grand idea. You could restart your life’s journey, make a total redo in a separate body, and have a whole new, unscathed set of identity. It’s the perfect clean slate for someone ensnared by their desperation of a do-over. But then there’s the part of having to die in order for the theory to be tested.

That requirement kinda spoils the idea for Irene.

Her options haven’t run dry. There are other methods of going off the grid at the soonest date manageable. She could book a one-way ticket to a foreign land, maybe to the country of Peru where she’ll have to overcome her fear of animals so she could have herself be educated in raising a herd of alpacas as she settles into a simpler life of animal husbandry at the hills of Machu Pichu.

It’s tempting. She doesn’t have to die. Her shameful encounter would be a thing in the past. This option captivates her more than the first. The plan is virtually fool-proof, just the notion of being with fluffy non-human creatures day and night repels her from the course of action. Animals will always be a frightening obstacle to her. She wouldn’t withstand having her life revolve around it.

Irene has to say whopping no, thank you to that. Furthermore, it would be mandatory for her to learn their dialect. She’s had her clashes with foreign languages (English, Japanese and Chinese) in high school, but her desire to be fluent in a fourth one isn’t in the cards. She could probably get by with her English in Peru regardless. Still, alpaca-grazing gives her the heebie-jeebies. She shudders at the visual.

Sighing, the office chair swivels at the of her leg. Her surroundings spin, speckles of white, mint-green and wooden undertones blurring at her field of vision. This is what her load of laundry has to be experiencing during their designated wash days, spun accordingly to the washing machine’s orders without their consent. Not that laundry would require consent. Inanimate objects aren’t supposed to feel anything nor have the rights to protest, but Irene is no inanimate object, and the prolonged embarrassment oozes in every fiber of her being as her dignity is thrashed around in the rinse cycle of life.

How is she going to live it down?

Her motion sickness arises at the continued swiveling of the office chair, and she slams her foot hard on the floor. That was boneheaded of her. Nausea ripples within her belly, but she gulps the lump before it’s set free.

When have you become such a , Irene?

She grumbles into her palms as she buries her head in her hands and stews over her flawed presumption.

It wasn’t fun being enlightened about Wendy’s background, though her neighbor had been repressing her amusement on Irene’s account. The blonde pastry chef isn’t up to par with Jennie’s wealth, but growing up in Canada and owning an apartment unit in Gangnam are booming signs of her financial stability. Irene has used the days afterward to salvage whatever self-esteem she currently has.

Her co-workers would have regarded her with an apprehensible degree of concern at her eccentric conduct. Irene is noteworthy for her cool and collected nature, her composure seldom bent, and this present Irene is a far cry from the person in their conception. But in some twisted sort of timing, the memory of last weekend’s chaos only interposes whenever she’s alone, particularly during her lunch breaks. Everyone has abandoned their stations to dine somewhere else, whereas Irene has declined the invite to leave without her doted office buddy.

Perpendicular to her desk, Jieun’s cluttered belongings of paperclips, markers and post-it notes are untouched. Irene tips her head to one side against her shoulder. She has been missing her friend dearly. Jieun had flown, once more, to Busan over the weekend for a local four-day university music festival. The woman’s versatility enables her to adapt in any environment, a feat suitable for out of town projects. Jieun’s return-flight to Seoul was almost sixteen hours ago, but Irene hasn’t gotten a text or voice message about filing for a day off, something Jieun routinely does.

Irene’s inner contemplation breaches to a standstill when a co-worker informs her that she is requested in Tiffany’s office. She snappily leaps from her seat, avid to drown herself in work than have her brain spiraling again. She marches along the aisle dividing their desks and heads for the transparent room at the back of their open work area, where a secretary, who usually notifies the arrival to their bosses before letting anyone in the conjoined office, isn’t to be found. But the door to Tiffany’s office is cracked open, and Irene could decipher her boss and a familiar visitor talking in mid-sentence. The sheet of frosted glass obscures her from ever seeing the figures beyond the partition, so she peeks her head inside for a glimpse.

“—uh, wife.”

“Whose wife?”

“His wife.”

“He has a wife?”

“He has a wife!”

Figuring she should make herself be known someway, Irene knocks on the frosted glass door thrice, efficiently obtaining the two women’s attention. “Should I come back or..?”

Jessica Jung gets up from her seat before Irene could retract her head from the room. Her leopard-print scarlet red slim-fit blazer and trousers are a divine piece Irene couldn’t rip her eyes from. Nothing short of perfection for a woman of her caliber. She flings her straightened hair with a brush of her hand, grinning impishly. “Don’t mind me, I was stalling Tiffany from checking into Henry’s shopping history to snoop on his anniversary present for her.”

Tiffany tuts at her best friend for foiling her plans. In her white Alexander McQueen pantsuit, the childish scowl is a major contradiction. “Don’t you have a boutique and magazine to tend to?”

“Jennie, my brilliant superstar is doing her absolute finest. Since your champion has arrived, I’ll go mess with Tae-Tae.” Jessica’s Cheshire grin extends to magnify her mischief, beckoning the hesitant brunette by the door to the chair the fashionista had risen from.

Irene would have refused to be an intrusion between the two friends, but with Jessica’s intimidating aura infiltrating the atmosphere, her survival instincts dictate her to do as she is instructed, obediently claiming the upholstered chair placed diagonally against the front of her boss’ glass table.

“We have jobs, Jess!” Tiffany hollers, but Jessica has sauntered towards Taeyeon’s more private connecting office, greeting her other best friend with an upbeat “Tae-Tae!” and sliding the pocket door at the annoyed groan flooding from Tiffany’s business partner.

It’s interesting how these two polar opposites have become a pinnacle in catering to South Korea’s social scene. The baby pink and chocolate brown scheme of Tiffany’s office gives a brighter and light vibe, while the indigo and asphalt gray combination in Taeyeon’s has a more serious and getting-down-to-business tone. If those aren’t dead-on representations of their personalities, then the photographs on the shelves behind their glass tables should be able to convey a story.

Taeyeon’s black and white photographs are landscapes and monuments of places she’s visited, highlighting her love for travel and her jet-setting lifestyle.

As for Tiffany, there are a stream of people in various photographs. Some of her family, her husband, her friends, her colleagues, celebrities she’s met, and a couple of her dogs, all of which are in full color. The biggest photograph settled on the third shelf is of her and Taeyeon in a tiny box of an office with their secondhand furniture and hopeful smiles at the launching of TNT Events a decade ago, an illustration on their humble beginnings of a two-person workforce. Tiffany and Taeyeon may have had well-to-do parents to support their finances and hire the best team, but they built their company from the ground up, learning the basics of events planning and taking online course for videography, photography and editing softwares themselves.

Four frames over is a photograph of Tiffany and Choi Sooyoung in their military green and plum trench coats, and Irene’s trips to Jennie’s closet has her identifying the iconic bran without second-guessing herself. The iconic bran of the very two coats she’s offered out of “generosity”.

Tiffany’s spectacled face comes into her view. “Why so glum, almost-birthday girl? Twenty-eight isn’t a bad age.” The testimony is coming from someone who has strutted into her thirties in splendor and grace. She twirls a pen around her fingers, pink nail polish gracing her fingernails.

“It’s nothing.” Irene channels the professional smile she has mastered for worrisome clients. Her thought-consuming embarrassment shouldn’t be affecting her work life. “Amber said you have an assignment for me, sunbae?”

Tiffany lowers her pen on her table with a thwack. “How many times do I have to say this? You can drop the honorifics, Irene. Besides, I already graduated when you started high school in SM International.”

It wasn’t premeditated. There was a flyer on Irene’s department’s announcement board about a paid part-time job at a company she hadn’t been familiar with. The hours indicated on the flyer wouldn’t disrupt her classes, and it would be a bonus to her credentials. She hadn’t envisioned that she and the CEO and COO would have a common alma-mater, a similarity Tiffany had been gushing on and on in between the appraisals of Irene’s accomplishments.

Her parents’ foresight of their futures was remarkable. Irene didn’t grapple the necessity for her and her sister to attend a pricey private school when there were decent public schools in the city. She didn’t possess the affluent backgrounds her classmates in high school did, but she was able to make connections, including those she hadn’t met. Tiffany had taken her under her wing as her former assistant, saw the growth of the company, and was employed as a regular after gaining her diploma. No matter the angle, her resume did around seventy percent in endorsing herself. The other thirty was her glitzy secondary and tertiary education. Connections do get you to places.

Nonetheless, Irene has been proving to her bosses that hiring her wasn’t waste.

“Back to business.” Tiffany’s wedding band glimmers as she threads through the pages of her unsurprisingly pink binder. “Ever heard of Ahn Hyejin?”

“The epitome of a strong independent woman?” How could she not? Ahn Hyejin is a household name in the design profession nowadays, her ventures plastered on news articles, the history of her patents being rejected by multiple firms which paved her to research and study diligently on environmentally and economically friendly materials. Stars and socialites have been posting her works on Instagram for their unique concepts and market value. Outstanding for someone in the profession under three years. What really struck the hearts of the masses was her hands-on solo parenting of a four year-old she had at nineteen. “Who hasn’t?”

“Much respect for a fellow lady-boss. Speaking of her, we may have a chance to manage an event for her daughter’s birthday.” Tiffany says enthusiastically. “You’re going to be assigned to grab that chance.”

The energy her boss radiates is so contagious that it has Irene nodding repetitively like a trained dolphin exhibiting its tricks at Sea World. She has done a myriad of birthday parties. What difference would this one make? “You can count on me.”

“I will be counting on you, Irene. This is an important project. Our company’s name has suffered a significant deal from that horrendous mess last year.” A wave of seriousness resides in Tiffany’s cloudy eyes.

No one would have anticipated for a videographer to become obsessed with an engaged client at a pictorial, later on sabotaging their wedding by messing up their bouquet orders, exchanging the doves for dead pigeons and during the newlyweds’ first dance, a video of the groom making out with his best man played on the screen. The bride, expectedly, called off their union, and the groom’s parents were enraged that they paid everything for nothing since the matrimony was of two chaebol heirs. A scandal wasn’t in their agenda.

“The debauchery of the century” tabloids would say in big bold letters. The title is a bit of an overstatement in Irene’s opinion, but some writers would do anything to milk a story into something headline-worthy. Because of the videographer’s involvement, the groom’s influential family had bad-mouthed TNT Events for the irresponsible supervision of their employee. And with their power, Tiffany and Taeyeon had to rebuild their clientele for three months.

“Getting this will bury the hatchet.” Tiffany proclaims with optimism. “We can go back to having clients for concerts, award shows and celebrity events. My source tells me we’re competing against this newbie, Solarsido, but we can’t be lax with their inexperience. Nothing is certain. A competition is a competition. I really need you to win them over within the next five months before another company does.”

“Them?”

“Hyejin will only meet you once she’s made the final decision. It’s her representative you’ll be convincing. She was the pastry chef who provided the sweets at Soo’s fundraiser.”

“Um.” An upsetting weight anchors itself at the lowest depths of Irene’s stomach. “Who is this pastry chef?”

“Wendy Shon.”

Oh no.

“The party for Jisoo’s daughter is closing in. I’m not confident that I would be able to accommodate Miss Ahn’s representative.” Irene delivers the excuse civilly, albeit the curling of her fingers on her lap. She’s digging her nails onto her palms, forming crescents on her skin. She could live with the minute scars as long as her professionalism wouldn’t waver. She is desperate for an escape. “You could have Jieun be tasked with the project. Have her stay in Seoul this time around.”

Tiffany contorts her face. “Ji won’t be handling any events for an indefinite period in her condition.”

“Condition?” Irene parrots unsurely. “What condition?”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“No…”

“She fell from the loft of her apartment yesterday. She’s been in the hospital since last night.”

 

 

***

 

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throwaway18
thank you for the feature! i swear, i'll return to this story eventually lol

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wishwishwish #1
Chapter 8: update pls 🥺
morphine007 #2
Chapter 1: im still here waiting with patience🖤
reveluv316 741 streak #3
congrats on the feature
upvoteurie #4
continue please):
Hyral52
#5
Just read this and am now sad this hasn't been updated in 2 years. I want to know how it ends!!
1609Andrea
2038 streak #6
Chapter 2: Haha grumpy wendy
nagbabasalang
#7
Chapter 8: okay.. understood the clothes on Irene... XD
and she really needs to start listening.
nagbabasalang
#8
Chapter 6: i really don't understand tags on clothes.
i always wash newly bought clothes, so the tag is cut off. hmmm...
nagbabasalang
#9
Chapter 3: poor kid..
1609Andrea
2038 streak #10
Woww