three

There was a team meeting on a Saturday afternoon. I hugged my clipboard as I wandered around aimlessly trying to find the meeting room on level three. The floor was incredibly huge. Rows and rows of office tables occupied most of the space at the center and the workers were either typing furiously on their keyboards or answering calls. I found a directory mounted on the wall, and I squinted my eyes trying to figure out where the designated place was.

Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder that took me by surprise. I jumped a little on the spot and pivoted around.

It was JB. He was dressed casually with an extremely black oversized shirt and khaki-coloured urban pants. He held a cup of water in his right hand as if he just came from a meeting.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, leaning in to peep at the contents of my clipboard. It contained several research information I had done and some concept ideas I had in my mind. I didn’t want to let him see those so I ducked away from him, clutching the clipboard closer to my chest.

I saw the puzzled look on his face.

I scratched my nape nervously and looked around, hoping one of the stylists would pass by so I could escape from him. To be honest, I still saw him as an artiste I was working for so there was a line I had to prevent from crossing. I don’t know if we can be considered friends though we’re the same age, and especially after our little conversation at the practice room that day. I could only remain professional in front of him, especially when there were so many other workers around.

“I need to go to Meeting Room One but I don’t know where it is,” I answered embarrassingly, still trying to avoid looking at him.

There was a chuckle from his end. “That way. The last room.”

His arms stretched out and pointed to my right. It was indeed a long hallway and I swore I would’ve never found the place if it weren’t for him.

I muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before taking my leave and briskly walked in the direction.

---

“We need to brainstorm concept ideas for JB’s next single,” Ms. Kwon said, standing beside the whiteboard. She wrote the words “JB CONCEPT IDEAS” in thick marker ink at the center of the board. “Anyone would like to go first?”

I kept my head down to avoid any attention. I was also glad I was seated at the farthest end of the long table, and I could hide myself as long as I ducked behind another female stylist sitting beside me. My fingers played with my pen, and I couldn’t wait for the meeting to end. I hated the competitive and stressful atmosphere in the room as if everyone had tensions with one another.

“Seulgi, would you like to go first?”

I gasped the immediate moment I heard my name. My eyes flickered to look at Ms. Kwon who was still scanning the room to find me. That was when I knew she probably had something against me, calling me out when she didn’t even know whether I was present. I balled my hands into a fist and stood up slowly with quivering legs. I gave a pressed smile and rubbed my sweaty palms onto the sides of my jeans. I took the clipboard from the table, flipping through pages and pages frantically to grasp certain keywords written down so I could better organise my thoughts.

“I thought we could go with a more masculine concept,” I started. “But with a slight feminine touch to it. We could make use of a simple dress shirt for most of his activities but with a minimalistic yet unique design. Plus, I thought a fitting shirt would accentuate his build a lot more.”

I paused and observed everyone. They were all looking at their own research papers that it almost seemed like my idea was boring and weren’t worth their time. I took a deep breath and started once more.

“The song is y yet the lyrics are incredibly sweet. I thought this concept might be parallel and more in sync with the single. Using silk as our main material, it will be alluring. We can alternate between more loud prints and mellowed down designs paired with jeans or office pants.”

Ms. Kwon was noting my ideas down in point forms on the board. I was heartened that there was at least someone acknowledging my ideas.

“JB has done a lot of concepts but they all mostly belong to the modern category. Silk is a very traditional material, yet it has never left the market even up till this day. There is something rich and timeless about the style that I’m very sure it would suit him. After all, his album songs speak of temptations in love and traditional courtships.”

There were still many points written down on my clipboard but I decided not to say further. I decided to sit down and heaved a sigh of relief.

The meeting went on for another two hours when Ms. Kwon finally finished her last sentence. The closing of hardcover file