Her adjutant called it the dream job, a once in a lifetime opportunity. Even went so far as to urge (read: coerce) Taeyeon to take on the new dispatch despite her experience being ten times higher than what was required. 

Yuri was such a ing liar.

“You told me you were resigning from the uber dangerous action world of bodyguards, Taeng! What did you want me to do? Leave you jobless?!” The second in command exasperatedly argued. Hands up in the air, that was how Taeyeon knew the taller girl was losing her patience.

“I’d choose unemployment over babysitting a bunch of spoiled idols any day!” Taeyeon whisper-screamed, not at all backing down. Hands equally flailing in emphasis.

“For the hundredth time, they’re all beyond the legal age! Besides, what’s so hard about it? You’re just supposed to keep an eye on them and their safety. Easy, peasy!”

Taeyeon internally scoffed at Yuri’s last wise words to her before she allowed herself to be persuaded into what she now called an employment nightmare. A sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Maybe it was Taeyeon’s fault after all— with her inability to say no and stand firm.

A chuckle soon followed right after. Yeah, no. Everything was Yuri’s fault.

First off, Taeyeon was right. Girls’ Generation was a group of spoiled brats. Well maybe mainly just one of them, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Taeyeon was more of a Sistar fan.

Not the point either. Though, it does not change the fact that Taeyeon would rather be somewhere else rather than standing in the cold, teeth uncontrollably chattering, waiting for a group of br— idols, to exit the music show building. 

A glance to the area beyond the barricade showed a thick crowd of fans all huddled together, also in the middle of the frigid weather, but for a completely different reason from the stoic bodyguard. How they willingly let themselves go through the possibility of catching a cold just so they could chance an encounter with their favorite idols, Taeyeon would never understand. 

She’ll let them be, for now.

At least these kids weren’t as rabid as the boy group fans one of her co-workers always complained about. Not to worry, no matter the situation, Taeyeon would handle it professionally. 

Right on time, the static on her radio signaled an incoming message. She pressed the receiver on her earpiece, pushing the device closer, alertness doubled.

“Charlie-1 to K-9,” a feminine voice called from the mic.

“Go ahead, Charlie-1.”

“Lion Heart enroute to exit four. ETA two minutes.” Taeyeon expected that. They weren’t running too late at the least. The broadcast supposedly ended thirty minutes ago, giving enough time for the group to change out of their stage outfits and a little bit of winding down.

“Copy that Charlie-1. Lima-5 on stand-by.” 

“Roger, K-9. Lima-5, over.” A man in a suit by the barricades nodded his head towards Taeyeon.

“Alright boys,” a boost in energy could be heard, “Let’s get this over with. K-9, out.”

Eyes set on her classic black analog watch, the mental countdown officially began.

Ten seconds and counting. 

Taeyeon moved into position in front of the elevator with all the tranquility in the world. Despite the calm demeanor, the top guard’s five senses were on high alert, eyes darting left and right for any possible compromise.

Three seconds.

One.

Ding.

In slow motion, the elevator doors opened and Taeyeon came face-to-face with a pair of doe eyes that instantly sparkled in recognition. The head guard remained impassive, maintaining eye contact in lieu of a challenge. Not like she could look away; even if she’d adamantly deny the thought afterwards, even if warmth flooded her cheeks.

As if the universe was further against Taeyeon, the lips on the face opposite hers curled into a cheeky smile. A wise decision was made to ignore the erratic beating of her traitorous heart.

In the background, she could hear the crowd erupt into fangirl screams, along with her subordinate notifying the arrival of their esteemed clients via radio. That was supposed to be Taeyeon’s job, but for some reason she couldn’t find the voice for it.

Stupid idols and their frighteningly magnetic smiles.

The bubble finally broke once a familiar and irritating voice spoke loudly enough for the