You know when people ask you what you see yourself doing in ten years, I could really say this is what I want. I love work. I love my job. It’s not just a job, actually—it’s a career. I’m constantly challenged, I’m constantly on my toes, and I’m happy.

But, there’s always days like these when work gets so stressful and so tiring.

So, you’re probably asking, ‘Why are you telling me this, Shiyoung?’

Good question.

I guess it’s a lame attempt at an excuse for what I’m about to talk to you about.

I’m not like Lay—I don’t make pretty origami with post-its on my spare time. Instead, I like annoying people with it. It’s my version of an office prank. (I promise you I’m not as bad as some others can be.) Well, I only do it to a select few, of course. Sehun, the person in closest proximity, was just in luck.

Have I mentioned my for all kinds of post-its? I have different colors, sizes, and shapes in my desk drawer. There’s standard green for emergencies (ironic, I know, since the color’s supposedly calming), heart-shaped ones for personal reminders, butterflies for due dates, stars for file annotations, and arrows for reminders as to where I put something. (Because I have the tendency to forget where I hide my things.)

On prank days like these, I like to use all of my ammo, because it’s cuter that way.

The first one (star-shaped) is on his coffee mug.

‘Well, I’ve never been to Greenland.’

By now, Sehun already knows my handwriting. He looked at me in question.

“Me neither.”

The next one (pink) is on his desk lamp.

‘And I’ve never been to Denver.’

“You know you can just talk to me, right?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

The next one (pear-shaped) is on his folder.

‘And I’ve never buried treasure in St. Louie or St. Paul.’

“What are you up to?”

Taking a break and leaving me with my post-its was a bad idea, Sehun. I’m telling you.

By the time he returned from break, his desk and chair were already bombarded with post-its. It looked like a piñata gone wrong.

“What the…” he looked at his workspace incredulously. Then he slowly turned his head to me. I pretended not to see.

“Don’t you have contracts to finish up? What were you doing? I have contracts to finish.” He shook his head. He started collecting the post-its, stacking them nicely on his palm.

“Hm… ‘And I’ve never hoist the main sail.’ What does that even mean?”

I look at my work, unseeing.

“’And I’ve never been to Boston in the fall’,” he continued, his chair almost completely out of post-its.

I’m waiting.

“What’s so special in Boston in the fall?”

“I don’t know either,” I laughed.

“’and I’m not too good at ping pong.’ Is this like 50 facts about yourself?” He looked at me, genuinely curious.

“Um,” I’m still waiting. Does he not know?

“’And I’ve never been to Tampa.’ Where’s Tampa?”

“In Florida.”

“Is this, like, a list of places you haven’t gone to?” I could literally see his brain trying to store all of the places I’ve mentioned.

“No. I’ve actually been to Boston in the fall,” I suppressed a laugh.

“Oh.” He continued scraping off his office piñata. “’And I’ve never owned a parrot.’ Yeah, me neither. But it’d be cool to own one.”

I guess we were having a conversation based on the post-its. This was getting old.

“Don’t you get the references?” I finally gave up.

“These are references?” He looked up from removing post-its under his desk. “Wait. Don’t tell me.”

He continued rifling through the post-its, looking for clues. "'And I don't look good in leggings.'"

There are three things about Sehun I’ve come to realize. One, he loves food (based on a week ago.) Two, he loves references. Three, he lives for challenges.

“I’ve heard of this before, I just know it.” He scrunched his forehead in concentration. “What is it…” he murmured.

It was only a matter of time, I knew.

“A-ha!” He finally shouted, triumphantly waving a butterfly-shaped post-it in the air. He started singing.

“We are the pirates who don’t do anything;
We just stay home and lie around”

He sung it proudly, like a national anthem or a cry to patriotism.

“And if you ask us to do anything,
We’ll just tell you, we don’t do anything.”

I don’t know what was funnier—the fact that he was singing a Veggie Tales song, as old as he is, or the fact that he was singing it in his best manly low voice. He pumped his fists in the air, proud to have solved the puzzle pieces.

If that wasn’t adorable, I don’t know what is.

--

Because Veggie Tales is awesome. Lol put your hands up if you got the reference before Sehun did! If you haven't heard of the song before, you've been missing out, my friend. Here. Take a listen. And I dare you to keep a straight face imagining Sehun sing that silly song. (Okay, unless you're stoic.)

So, another short ficlet. Haha I actually just wanted to even out the amount of chapter for each of the guys, so it's another Sehun-centric chapter. Honestly, I'm just stalling, so you could probably see the poopy-ness of the chapter. I'm sorry.

It's actually poll time!

Your vote counts. It will shape how I write the rest of the fiction. So, VOTE PLEASE. AND DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT. (Idk why I just went all-caps.)