It’s close to five pm the moment you check your watch. Leaning into your chair, you stretch yourself out, yawning unconsciously and feeling so grateful that the day was coming to an end. You’ve worked yourself to the bone that very day, going through countless meetings and whatnot.

Pulling out your phone from your pocket, you realize the battery’s completely drained. “, no… come on…” You tap it against your palm impatiently several times but to no avail. “Stupid,” Mumbling under your breath, you chuck it into your bag and exhale heavily. You really shouldn’t have spent half your break time on Angry Birds. Now you can’t text Jessica to tell her how much you’ve been thinking about her.

Your manager struts out of her office minutes later and approaches your desk, “We’re done for the day, Yonghyo. Thank you for your hard work.” She pats your shoulder firmly.

“It’s uh, no problem at all, Miss Park,” You put on an awkward smile, “I do my best.” Noticing her hand still plastered securely on your shoulder, you clear your throat and shrug her grasp off.

This Miss Park has been acting a little strangely towards you the past couple of months. She seems to like you. A lot. What kind of manager asks her subordinate out to dinner every other day? Not to mention the innumerous times you’ve had to turn her down for trying to get you to drop by her place to “look through some files”.

“Are you going straight home?” She asks, letting her arm fall to her side.

“Yeah, of course…” You get off your chair at once and start to clear the items off your desk. “My girlfriend’s waiting. You know that,” You add, hoping she would get the hint.

“Right…” There was a trace of disappointment in her tone. Seconds later, she added, “I think I parked my car next to yours this morning. Purely coincidental. Shall we head to the parking lot together?”

Yeah, right. Because you’re sure there was only one parking space left at six in the morning.

“Sure,” You agree nonetheless. What’s the harm? She smiles and leaves to get her stuff as you continue packing.

Soon you’re in the elevator alone with her, doing your best to not die from the awkward silence. Whistling a random tune, you fiddle with the strap of your leather bag and try to look casual.

“So… how long have you been together with your girlfriend?”

You stop whistling and turn to look at her with a quirked brow. Seriously? Why does she even want to know?

As if she read your mind, she nervously giggles before answering, “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

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