[CONTENTID1] Chapter 06 [/CONTENTID1] [CONTENTID2] Sixth Profile [/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3] “I’m opening a new Luxe branch in Insadong next month! This one’s gonna come with a super cute café, and you have to come to the grand opening event!”

“I’ll be there. I had an allergic reaction that sent me to the ER, but it finally got my bodyguard to talk to me.”

“Wait, you’re allergic to something?” Tiffany pours more champagne into my glass. “Anyway, I told my dad I wanted a bodyguard like yours. He shut me down and enrolled me in a Muay Thai for self-defense class instead,” she finishes with a grin.

“You weren’t joking about wanting his agency, were you?” I giggle, pouring champagne in her glass now. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“Questions later, updates first!” Tiffany shushes. “Your turn!”

Yeah, this is our ritual every time we go out for all-you-can-eat boozy brunch—we take turns giving each other one-liners of the latest updates in our lives and add a small splash of alcohol in the other’s glass every time. Tiffany and I could go on forever about a particular topic, so we lay out all the ground we need to cover in advance before falling down rabbit holes.

“Um, let’s see… I went on a few dates with this guy, he brought me to a party full of professional athletes, and just before you start telling me to marry him, hold on—” I hold a hand up just as Tiffany’s face lights up, “—I’ll also have you know that I’m now involved in a criminal case with him.”

“WHAT?” Tiffany bellows, making a couple heads turn our way. She swishes some more champagne into my glass. “What the actual—well, the last thing I had was that I started sleeping with my Muay Thai instructor, but God damn, girl, no one wants to hear about that anymore! What the hell happened?”

“He turned out to be a molka freak,” I lower my voice, “and if you saw the news at all last week, he’s the anonymous guy from Hundred Chem Group who—”

“Was arrested at the InterContinental?” Tiffany’s eyes pop out of their sockets. “The incident at the InterContinental was about you?!”

I wish I didn’t have to, but I nod.

“You win, obviously.” she says, handing me the menu to let me make the first slew of orders. “Seriously, you have to tell me everything!”

Our conversation takes off as the waiter arrives with various South American-inspired small plates, ranging from fresh, tangy ceviche, golden coxinha, to herb-encrusted flank steak. Under the groovy samba music, I tell Tiffany about Baekhyun, from the very first meeting down to the very last slap.

The first thing she says when I finally stop talking is “Slap?! You should’ve gone for the balls!”

I chuckle. “You know my Muay Thai guy taught me a move the other day? You gotta like—do this—” Tiffany pushes out her chair and starts twisting her knee upwards, as if to demonstrate. “I’ll show you later! Also, wait—did you tip the media? How did you do it?”

I’m 99% sure this girl has undiagnosed ADHD issues, but I can keep up because I probably do too.

“I just gave an anonymous tip to several news outlets acting as a witness and pointed them to the hotel as well as Hundred Chemical Group, but I think Baekhyun and his people would know it’s me.” I sigh. “Or they will once Mulya Hotel & Resorts speaks up about the new measures we’re implementing as part of our commitment to fight illegal filming.”

“Well… that’s why you have a bodyguard, right?” Tiffany darts her eyes at Jongin who’s sitting inconspicuously beside the hostess check-in table. “If and when people come after you, at least you know he’ll have him to protect you.”

“Exactly why I think I should be speaking up, you know? Other victims, they might not have the resources to make ers like this pay, but I do,” I bite my lip. “I feel like I have to do something.”   

“Of course,” Tiffany says, squeezing my arm, “and it’s amazing that you are. But, Seul, I can’t help but worry that… you know, if pursuing this is making it harder for you to… heal? I mean, how are you handling this?” Her normally sparkly eyes are somber with sympathy and concern.

“I mean… because Jongin found out on time and made sure that it wasn’t livestreaming anywhere, and now both Baekhyun and the footage are already in police custody, I don’t think this was as… mentally damaging to me as it would be to all his previous victims,” I say slowly. “My heart hurts for them, Tiff, really… I can’t imagine how much worse it’d be for them when they find out what he’s done.”

“But still, it must’ve been so… traumatizing and scary for you too.” She rubs my arm. “It’s been a week, right? Have you told your parents? Are you still going to work and everything?”

“Yeah, and naturally, they blame me,” I mumble. “I went home on the Sunday of that same weekend, and my dad scolded me for even going out with Baekhyun in the first place. First because Jongin had voiced concerns about him, and second because if I had stuck with one of the blind dates he’s set me up with, none of this would’ve happened.”

“What?! That’s bull!”  

I shrug. “That’s parents. I’m also going to work as usual because like I said, I’m quite… lucky, as far as victims are concerned. Like, I can function, I just…” I inhale shakily and grab a sip of water. “I’m just dreading having to deal with all this. And what Baekhyun did, he’s made me…”

Trailing off, I stare at my lap. “I can’t pee at public restrooms without consciously reminding myself that it’s fine, Tiff. Anytime I’m outside the house, I feel scared and anxious and angry, and I literally don’t know how I’d be holding up if I didn’t have a bodyguard with me all the time.  I’m making all our hotels do additional security checks, and it’s so hard having to make up some bull reason for it just so I don’t let all 10,000 employees know what happened to me, because frankly speaking, it’s also ing embarrassing.”

Tiffany pouts sadly and reaches over to rub my arm. “Seul…”

“And most of all, everyone is suspicious to me now. I don’t think I’ll ever do casual hook-ups again, which because I don’t have a boyfriend, and even if I were to get a boyfriend one of these days, how can I know he’s not secretly into what that er is? I don’t know how to just… trust men the same way again,” I bite my lip. “I’m sorry, I know you and the Muay Thai guy are…”

“No, no, don’t apologize. Why would you say sorry for warning me about how men can be?” Tiff chews on a piece of crispy potato thoughtfully. “You’re making me want to interrogate him the next time we meet.”

“If you do talk about this with him, can you not refer to me personally? Just say it’s about the case you saw online recently.”

“Of course I won’t! I’m not going to blabber, don’t worry.” She squeezes my arm. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. If there’s any way that I can help put that motherer in jail, just let me know, okay?”

I nod dispiritedly, trying not to let my confidence waver. “I appreciate it,” I tell her. “I hope I don’t have to drag you into this though. Jongin’s already helping me with everything I could ask for. Just do me a favour and make sure that Muay Thai guy of yours is legit, okay?”

Tiffany agrees readily. “I’m going to make sure he’s a good guy. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

Oh, what? Interesting...

“So… you’re going to keep seeing him?” I ask with a small smile. “That response is a bit more committed than I’d expect.”

“No one said anything about commitments,” Tiffany instantly retorts, “but no one said he’s just a hook-up either. He’s really nice, and good, if you know what I mean.” She winks. “But today isn’t about me. So Jongin is helping you? That’s nice of him, does that mean the two of you talk now?”

I in a deep breath and bite my inner cheeks to prevent myself from bursting with glowing praise and giddiness for Jongin. “Yeah, that’s… the talking part is another story of its own.”

Tiffany shoves a piece of pancake in and grins. “Hit me. It’s time for a lighter topic, don’t you think?”

Unfortunately, that was all it took to convince me, so I immediately start telling her about the party/bar/ER story. The sparkle returns to my best friend’s eyes and she squeals, kicking her feet under the table excitedly, and when I tell her about the 40 million dollar line with a hint of embarrassment, she makes my shame triple by literally shrieking and looking directly at Jongin.

“You are insane!” I hiss, whacking her arm. Jongin is looking at our table curiously now, so I quickly give him a little wave to show that everything’s alright.

“He’s insane!” Tiffany whisper-screams, covering . “Dude, he’s totally flirting with you! You know that right? Why do you even bother wasting time with other men anyway?!”

“Because first of all, I’m not exactly sure if that’s what he’s doing—”

“It is, trust me—”

“Or even why he’s doing it—because if these are all just normal responses to him then we can’t really count it as flirting, right?” I pause for breath. “And second, because he’s my bodyguard, Tiff! A very uptight and professional one at that, and it’s bad enough that I think I’m starting to develop feminine feelings—”

Tiffany’s cutleries fall to her plate. “You think you’ve started to what?!”

My cheeks burn. Why did I ever open this stupid mouth?! “Nothing! It’s nothing, I’m… managing them—anyway he’s my bodyguard, so—”

“Shut up! No, no, I don’t want to hear that—be quiet!” Tiffany presses her hands to her ears and shakes her head petulantly. “Seul, are you freaking kidding me right now?! He is your knight in shining armor who’s more effective than any guardian angel God could ever create, he’s ing y, he’s flirting with you, and you kind of have feelings, but you’re telling me you’re not going to go for it?! Yah, is this the same brain you got a Harvard MBA with?!”

I scowl. “Maybe I might if I knew there was any chance of him feeling anything for me, but you know how he is!”

“Oh, Seul. You’ll see, you’ll see,” Tiffany says patronizingly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I can only hope that when you finally do, it’s not too late.”

“What do you mean too late?” I can’t help but ask, half-annoyed, half-worried.

“Well, something always happens in life, doesn’t it?” Tiffany answers vaguely. “Oh, speaking of life, have you spoken to Taeyeon recently? You need to answer her texts, girl. She’s planning this big 27th birthday bash in Phuket!”

“Oh , did I miss any?” I pull out my phone and immediately start scrolling. “Sorry, I just have so many things clogging my… yeah, I found it. Oops. Okay, um… I have a business trip just before that, but I think I can make it. I’ll fly in directly. Are you going?”

“Of course! You have to go, Seul, this is going to be like our first proper reunion with the girls since that crazy night out when we all out on the grass!” Tiffany claps, bouncing in her seat. Yeah, that crazy night out—the one that led to Jongin.

“If it’s with you girls I’m definitely going,” I smile. “So this is a girls’ trip? You’re not bringing Mr. Muay Thai?”

“Nickhun,” she smiles shyly. “And no, I’m not—it’s just us girls! Lowkey I think Taeyeon just wants to get away from her boyfriend. You know she’s been complaining about him so much every time she gets her nails done at Luxe? I think they’re going to break up soon!”

“Fun, and more on Taeyeon’s personal problems later, but if this is just a girls’ trip, then is it okay for me to bring my bodyguard? He’s definitely going to have to come with me, but aside from you, none of them have met him, so I don’t know if—”

But Tiffany waves off all my concerns right away. “Please, girl,” she says airily. “Your bodyguard looks like that—everyone will be kissing your feet for bringing him to the beach with us.”

I laugh and shake my head. “As long as it’s my feet you’re kissing and not his.”

I have a problem.

Ever since my Great Realization, I’ve felt… radioactive. Every minute Jongin spends around me puts me at high risk of doing something stupid because my skin itches for contact. My brain can only think of him. I want to know what he’s thinking when he looks at me with those unreadable eyes, and I want to feel them on me when I look away.

That’s why lately, I’m actually thankful that work is brutal enough to help take my mind of it. I’ve been extremely busy since I’ve started working with relevant department heads to implement various measures against spycams, and though I’ve been met with indirect opposition, I hold my ground. If something can be done, then something needs to be, and that’s reason enough.

“Alright, so public area scans like in lobby restrooms and pool facilities will start this week as discussed,” my VP of Security Ops recites, “and the terms of how in-room security checks can be integrated with housekeeping should be ready for legal review next week.”

“Great,” I nod, turning to my VP of Marketing. “How’s PR going?”

“We have three press releases prepared, Ms. Seo, however there are several wording and timing considerations to take into account to avoid seeming like we’re capitalizing on the incident—“

Suddenly, the door to my office flies open, and everyone in the room immediately scrambles to get up and bow. Everyone except me.

“Ms. Seo, Ms. Seo!” Sehun calls, running after the guest. “Your father is—oh.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Thanks, Sehun,” I try not to glare at him. I perform a lazier bow, searching my father’s stern face to discern what this unexpected visit might be about. I think I have a hunch.

“Hello, Mr. Seo,” I greet him formally. “We’re actually in a meeting right now. May I ask what brings you here?”

“Is it about the new security measures I heard you’re implementing?” he asks, glancing at the files and open laptops on my coffee table. “Wrap it up. I’ll wait.”

Predictably, my VP of Marketing starts rapping the rest of her report. I shoot my dad a look, but he sits still in my sofa chair, arms folded, lips slightly downturned, and overall unbothered by the wait. Once the executives shuffle out my office with a meek bow, he clears his throat and turns to me.

“So you’re really doing this?”

“Yeah,” I say through gritted teeth, already knowing what this is going to be about. “It’s not up for discussion.”

My father presses his lips together. “What about your plan to get in contact with the other victims? How’s that going?”

“It’s going. Jongin is still collecting their information, and I’ll work with Mr. Do, the lawyer you sent me, if I end up needing to get in touch with them.”

“Is that not enough?” he asks. I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate despite knowing exactly what he means. My dad sighs before spelling it out. “Are you sure about involving Mulya Hotel & Resorts in this?”

I walk to my desk and start packing up. “Why not? This goes far beyond security—it’ll improve our image, especially among female guests, and actually combat one of the most asive issues in our country. Imagine if all hotels begin to follow our lead!”

“I understand all that very well, but don’t you already have enough things to focus on this quarter?”

“I can make room for one more,” I reply firmly. “Don’t worry. I’ll see to all the other projects as planned.”

But my father still doesn’t look convinced. “The Board isn’t happy with this decision. They don’t want to waste energy on security procedures when there are multiple contracts to be won.”

“It’s not wasting energy—”

“Iseul, do you think CEOs revamp a part of their business every time something bad happens to them? Say their car got broken into, do you see them tightening up parking lot security just because of that? Or they get food poisoning, do they immediately change all their ingredient suppliers? Do you know how little work would actually be accomplished if that were the case?!”

I frown. “But that’s not the same—molka is a crime, an assault, a violation of one’s ual integrity! Do you know how many lives it has ruined? Maybe if you didn’t just blame me— “

“Maybe if you’d just grow up and start seeing someone seriously—“

At that, I explode. “So are you saying I’m the problem, and not those bastards with sick intentions?”

My father only glares. “Keep your voice down, there are people outside.”

“We’re almost done anyway,” I say, zipping up my bag. “The point is, I have to do this, dad. For myself, for Baekhyun’s other victims, and for all the other girls out there. I’ll timebox the amount of time I spend on this initiative, but it’s not going to be zero.”

My father looks at me long and hard before heaving another sigh. “Mr. Byun was planning to run for Mayor in the upcoming re-election. It isn’t hard to deduce that he was probably aiming for President in the next ten years. You do this, you’re placing a target on your and our company’s back by essentially ruining his political career.” My father shakes his head. “He’s going to come for you and Mulya, and the Board just wants to be sure that you can handle it.”

It's unnerving, but I can’t back down. I won’t back down now. “I can,” I say with all the conviction I can muster. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You need to show us that we don’t have to,” he says gruffly. “That as your father, I don’t have to worry.”

 “I’ll be fine and I’ll make sure the company will be too.” I grit my teeth. “I won’t do anything rash again. I’ll listen to Jongin.”

He purses his lips skeptically. “You’d better,” he finally says. “Because the Prime Minister himself is hosting an event soon. We’re invited, and this is not a place where we can afford to make a scene.”

Thanks to the new event added to my agenda next week, I spend even more nights holed up in my office, trying to stay both on top of all my different deadlines and sane. It's a typical Wednesday evening and I’ve just gotten off a call with some executives from the Vietnam Hotel Association when I get a knock on my door.

“Do you have some time?” Jongin’s deep voice asks, his head poking in. Okay Iseul, you can do this. Be cool!

“Y-yeah?” I stutter lamely, failing instantly. Lord, his hair! Why is it unstyled today?! Why is it all soft and floopy and not at all healthy for my heart?!

“Great,” Jongin replies, walking towards my sofas with a manila folder tucked under his arm. “I wanted to talk to you about the information I’ve found regarding some of Mr. Byun’s other victims,” he says, spreading the contents of his folder out on my coffee table, “and then about some other invitees of the Prime Minister’s event.”

“Okay,” I say, already starting to feel lightheaded upon seeing the amount of content, “can we finish this in 30 minutes?”

Of course, there is virtually no challenge Jongin won’t take and overcome. He launches into presenter mode immediately, grouping the girls up based on similarities in their backgrounds and possible ways of contact. It’s impressive how much information he’s found, but what’s even more impressive is his ability to present it. He’s brilliantly articulate and succinct, and it’s so ing… y. He’s literally perfect. He’s handsome, morally upright, supportive, a good speaker—

“Ms. Seo? Are you listening?”

I blink rapidly, suddenly registering a hand waving in front of my face. “Yes, of course!” . Of course I was not. What was he saying again? “Um… you said… these girls… and these girls… they work around the Yonsei University area… and…”

Jongin looks at me skeptically. “Am I going too fast?”

“Not at all! Continue please, we have about 17 minutes left!”

“Wait, shouldn’t I be given more time because you were zoning out?” he protests, frowning a little. Why is he frowning?! Why is he making that fac?! God, that stupid pout and stupid fluffy hair… grrr Kim Jongin I’m going to freaking kiss you!!

Wait, what?!

“NO!” I shout, definitely too loud for the proximity in which we are sitting. What did I just think? Kiss?! Since when did I get so aggressive?! I must be blushing because Jongin’s brows are furrowed in confusion. “I mean… I’m not! Just continue first!”

Casting one last doubtful look, he returns to the contents of his manila folder anyway. “Maybe that’s enough for now. I can go over them again when you actually need to reach out, but the main takeaway is to let the police try to get in touch with them first, okay?” He looks at me, checking if I’m paying attention, and this time, I nod readily. 

“Got it!”

The corners of his lips tug into a small, approving smile. “Alright. Now, for the Prime Minister’s event, you are aware of the politics between and within parties, right? To summarize, the people on this sheet are the ones you should endeavour to talk to, while the people on these ones are the ones you should avoid. Here is the…”

Jongin gives me a crash course on political figures that will quite frankly evaporate right off my brain as soon as I look away from the page. But he seems extremely determined to get through all the content, so I force myself to listen—which honestly shouldn’t be that hard if his hair wasn’t looking so soft.

And.

Fluffy!!!

I wonder what it—

“Ms. Seo?”

“Yes I got it!” I yell, jumping one seat away from him before I suddenly lean over and start sniffing him. Oh nooo I’m gonna need a restraining order. I want to know what it smells like so bad!!

He looks at me quizzically. “Is there something on my face…?”

I shake my head so hard I can feel my brain rattling in my skull. “No! Nope! Nothing!”

He gets it, Iseul, shut the up!!

Jongin blinks slowly. “Alright then… who is this?” he quizzes, pointing at a picture of a young man I’m 100% sure I have never seen or even heard of. I open my mouth, preparing to take my first blind stab.

“Kim…” I guess, starting with the most common surname in the country. Oh, he’s not cutting me off—that’s a good sign, right? I squint at this guy’s ID picture. Crap, that’s it, I guess. How the hell am I supposed to guess anyone’s first name?  

“…Kim.”

Jongin is silent for three whole seconds. “You’re saying his name is Kim Kim?” he deadpans.

“Kim… Chi…?” I revise, half-joking. Jongin groans loudly and rubs his face in despair.

“That’s Kim Youngmin’s eldest son. You really should know about him,” he laments, pointing at the name he was previously covering.

Oh, it’s Kim Junmyeon. I stare at his profile—last on this page of six Kims—trying to commit as much information as I can to memory. “Alright, I’m sorry,” I say, pouting. “I was just thinking about… work.”

“It was my fault. I should’ve come at another time.”

“No, no, I told you it was fine.” The fact that I was so not thinking about work only makes me feel worse. Nope, this isn’t going to work. I’m not going to learn anything like this.

“Listen,” I quickly say, jumping to my feet, “my brain’s completely fried. How about we wrap up?”

He frowns in disagreement. “But I need to explain—”

“Oh don’t worry about it!” I sing, waving him off. “I’m sure I can figure out who hates who and who’s whose and whatnot! Just leave these with me, and I’ll make sure I have everything memorized before the event next week!”

I’m pleased to report that over the next few days, I actually do memorize all the faces in Jongin’s file, because unsurprisingly, learning is a lot more effective when you’re not constantly battling inappropriate thoughts about your teacher. I’ve even developed a little game to help me get through my days without turning into a fool every time my bodyguard is near.  

I tell myself that if I can get through the day without stuttering when I talk to him or daydreaming about him, I can check out one mid-range item from Shinsegae online. But if I do any of that, I have to do something like 40 sit-ups once I’m home. Or clean the kitchen. You get the idea. Apparently, this is an effective strategy because now, I’m either busy thinking about which silk scarf or trendy sunglasses to buy, or actively hating on his handsome face!  

Needless to say, I’m a y genius and I’ve got everything under control. Work included. The Friday of the Prime Minister’s event, I get in the office early and out on time for my usual appointment at Luxe. 6.30 PM sees me sitting in one of their comfortable salon chairs, adding a cute little butter yellow cardholder to my cart for check out later tonight. Yup, I was totally cool as hell today! Maybe I should change the condition to not stuttering for a week since I am getting pretty good at this.

“You have the correct dress this time, right?” I ask one of the stylists. “Black, Givenchy, one-shoulder and asymmetrical skirt?”

“We do, Ms. Seo.”

It was all going so well—Givenchy didn’t screw me up, I’m not rushing, and the dress looks fantastic on me—until I step outside their fitting room and come face to face with my bodyguard.

“Oh ing hell,” I mutter under my breath. I can already feel the cardholder slipping away from my cart because tonight, my bodyguard doesn’t just look good—he looks like sin.

Why in the world is he not wearing a tie? Why is the topmost button of his shirt undone? And most importantly—

“Did you get a haircut?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. He looks almost the same, but now he has a soft undercut and that blends in really nicely with his fringe that is styled away from his face as usual. Not gonna lie, it looks criminally good on him. God himself couldn’t have done a better job.

He immediately touches the side of his head. “I—uh—” he stammers, which is highly unusual, “yeah, one of the stylists outside offered to tidy up my hair while I was waiting for you.”

A STYLIST offered this?! So you’re telling me a female stylist was out there talking to him, cozying up to him, and had her stupid hands all over his stupid fluffy hair???

Before me?!

To clarify, I’m not jealous. I’m just—I mean, if this stylist has so much time on her hands, she should be helping me out! I don’t know, give me an extra foot massage or something!

“Oh,” I finally say after struggling to keep a neutral expression. “And wher