He doesn’t have the time to panic, or maybe he does but he simply spaces out and cannot remember it anymore.  

What he knows is that Yunho had dropped him off at home Sunday afternoon after they had lunch together in a cute café. He was given a card with a phone number and address and he knows Wednesday at 9:30 he has an interview. 

The problem is, he doesn’t know what happened to Sunday night, or Monday or Tuesday at all. 

The sound of his alarm startles him... awake? And it feels like he falls back into himself violently with a jerk, eyes wide as he looks around.  

He’s sitting on his sofa, in a tank top and sweats he doesn’t remember changing into and he feels rather gross. Like there is a lingering layer of sweat on his skin that has soaked him, dried up and then soaked him again, like if he moves his skin is going to crack and tear like a chrysalis... but it won’t be a pretty butterfly that breaks out. 

It isn’t the first time in his life he’s lost time like this, but the last time it was so severe... 

Well, he was still living on his parents’ estate and they had not been home for the week and Hwayoung had been... 

Jaejoong doesn’t really want to think about that.  

It isn’t the same as waking up, he doesn’t feel rested at all, but he rubs at his eyes and stretches all the same, grunting when his spine pops and releases some of the tension he was drowning in without realizing. 

According to his phone it is Wednesday morning, 7 am. 

And there are about two dozen messages on his phone and some missed calls... 

But those, he figures, can wait because he needs to shower. 

With any luck, the water and maybe some food afterward will get rid of the sickly pallor of his skin. 

-----

He takes a taxi although he doesn’t feel any better. 

The shower woke him up but, he hadn’t really been asleep if the bags under his eyes tell him anything. 

Luckily, there is no type of bruising that he hasn’t learned to cover in his life, and though it takes him an extra fifteen minutes nobody spares him a second glance and he doesn’t look dead on his feet.  

Yunho went out on a limb to help him, and though he has a feeling he’ll get the job working for one of the alpha’s friends regardless... he still doesn’t want to be an embarrassment. Jaejoong doesn’t want to be the stupid omega who does everything wrong like he usually is. 

As he steps into the tall building that feels like it is made out of glass and marble he wonders if they all know. Would the Jungs inform their staff that they had an omega trying out? Would the fact that he had been studying business even matter? Probably not, not when he was a university drop out- it would probably seem like he was too stupid to keep up... 

They must all know, and because of that thought he nearly turns and bolts out of the door, but he must look too shifty because the security are eyeing him... 

Suddenly Jaejoong wishes he had dressed smarter, instead of putting on a pair of dark jeans and a sweater vest over a white blouse, he probably looks like some idiot kid.  

Yet he wanders toward the reception desk anyway, trying his best not to wring his hands in his clothes and wrinkle them, surely they must all know... 

“Can I... help you?” the woman sounds half confused, half suspicious as she eyes him, and the omega can’t decide if that makes it better or worse. 

So his face hadn’t been plastered all over and he hadn’t basically had omega tattooed on his forehead... 

Women make him nervous, even if this one is just a beta so he nearly swallows his tongue before he can get himself to make proper noises, “I have an interview... at 9:30.” 

He’s only early by a half hour, which isn’t neurotic or anything. 

“Name?” the woman simply presses, tilting her head to one side. 

“Oh... it’s... Jaejoong... Kim Jaejoong.” 

Something akin to realisation flickers across her face then, she straightens up slightly and then smiles kindly like he’s just announced himself as royalty which is... strange. 

“Oh, yes of course Mister Kim,” she says sweetly, all sunshine and daises as she moves to fetch a key card, “You’ll need this to access the fifteenth floor.” 

He takes the key and wonders idly if all of the interviews take place high up in the building. Perhaps? Perhaps it depends on the department and position? 

Still, he can do the whole PA slash secretary thing, really. He can play fetch and take notes and answer phones. 

When the receptionist turns to help someone else without so much as another word to him the blonde treks over to the elevator, he isn’t alarmed when he presses the button marked 15 and is asked to present a passcode or keycard, but he is a little bit surprised that the card works when he swipes it. 

-----

He expected a bunch of offices... not... one. 

Once he steps out of the lift he is greeted by what is obviously a receptionist's area. There is a dark, likely heavy wooden desk and a dual monitor computer as well as a phone, file cabinets etc. Behind the desk and do the left is a door with a metal plaque on it. 

On the other side of the room is a kitchenette, a door he assumes leads to a bathroom. 

The whole floor is just one person’s office. It isn’t actually a shocker, he knows his parents’ companies have similar set ups but those are for... well, his parents, really. The CEOs, the bosses. 

If his hands felt clammy and damp before... it was nothing like now. 

“No...nope, no,” he can’t do this. 

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