May 2, 2011

“What the am I doing?” Oh Sehun asks himself as he stared at his reflection, a sigh of both exasperation and disbelief tickling the void between his cracked lips. He is trying on the eleventh of his many other suits, an attempt to pick out the best, hair sticking in every direction from the recurring fitting and discarding. Today, Jung Hyunsu was to begin working for him. But what exactly was so special about it that he’s caught himself high-strung in choosing a suit?

He stood over the rejected garments, soft, cotton fabric brushing against his calloused feet every now and then as he shifted his weight. Raking his hair off his face, he bites his lip, watching the man before him mirror his every move. Vacantly, he remembers the last time he saw her. How long her hair has grown. How soft her voice was whenever she spoke. How beautiful she looked despite the faint scars in her face. It was hard to believe she’s the same spunky peer in law school whom he shared hushed conversations in the library, flowing supply of strong coffee and wobbling knees before a mock jury with.

When he swallows, he is back in his room, staring stupidly at his reflection. Why is he making such a big deal out of this? She means nothing to him. Nothing.

He reiterates this, “Nothing.” The consonants roughly collided against the insides of his mouth while the vowels hung in the air. Taking a deep breath, he smoothens his hair with his fingers, strands slightly tangling at the contact. “She means nothing.” He says again before he turned his back against the mirror, words heavy with ultimatum. Catching a final glimpse of his reflection however, he sees a trace of doubt at the man’s face, stopping him. He contemplates. Does he look back? Or does he keep going?

Only, he doesn’t even know who that man is. Not anymore. So why should he?

*

“You’re late.” Sehun says, sitting at the desk front of his office meant for the assistant, one cheek nestled uncomfortably against the hybrid of wood and metal. The man in a cornflower blue formal stretch shirt, black pants and shiny, brown leather shoes indubitably ranks with derision, his expression stoic and stringent, the early morning light suspending over a quarter of