Chapter TEN ; DITCHED

{ ahn jinae }

I watch Daesol sweep a strand of hair back behind her ear as her eyebrows knit in creases, eyeing the page in a large moleskin planner. 

"Weird," She notes as she brings the page close to her eyes. "Kai's taking his first leave in two years."

Two years? My eyes widen. "Two years?! Who in the right mind doesn't take a leave in two years?" 

"Kim Jongin, apparently." Daesol flips a page idly, definitely not as surprised as I was. 

Kim Jongin confuses me endlessly as Daesol and I read through his plans, seeing every sector of every date and time occupied with wide, capital writing. Every single hour, Kim Jongin needed to do something or 'he might explode', I thought. I would balk over every single 'Sign documents for Garyu corp' and 'Get coffee with the guys' until I felt like my jaw would unhinge. 

"Weird guy," I'd comment, copying the itinerary on my laptop and moving some dates here and there. I make notes to call companies, tell them that Jongin wants to push their schedule farther to accomodate his other antics and so on. Daesol continues to flip pages. 

"He should move is 3 o'clock to his open 5 o'clock, don't you think? I guess it'll be more convenient for him, considering he has a call from the chairman at 2 sharp, and he's going to end up rescheduling his 3 o'clock anywa--" 

"Oh, quiet." Daesol suddenly chuckles. I look up at her, surprised. 

"What?" 

"Quiet!" She giggles again. "Tell me about yourself! Everyone's been curious about the new meat since you've been getting comfortable with the flashing sector heads--" 

"What? What do you mean 'everyone'?" 

"Everyone who's anyone at my department! Jeez, girl, you've been making quite a name for yourself." She chortles like a little girl and smiles wider. "Tell me about you!" 

I blink before I regain my composure. The idea of a whole department talking about me seemed pretty far-fetched, until I realize I've been talked about being present among large figures by a much larger audience. Just not this upclose, not when I had a say in who I was. 

"There's really not much to know," I shrug. "I'm Nam Jinae, graduate of Yonsei in media arts, I used to work for Galaxy enterprises before--" 

"How are things in the luuuuurve department?" She teasingly raises her eyebrows. I pause before I supress a laugh, her eyes blinking and shining like a curious kid.  

"It's alive and well, I guess.: I immediately grin a little more comfortable. "I have a wonderful boyfriend who--" I stop.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend who I'm lying to. My expression fades, and Daesol notices. We share a silence. 

"Uh, Unnie? Are you alright? You were saying something about your boyfriend?" 

"Oh, yeah, sorry, uh," I give a small apologetic smile. I try to loosen my features, trying not letting the guilt building up in my blood distract me again.

"It's nothing, why don't you tell me about you?" 

And she doesn't seem to notice anything wrong, because she sparks up like a firecreacker and smiles. "Yeah, well, I'm--"

Before the ecstatic girl could tell me anything about her, my door flung open with such a strong thud, already seeming more and more familiar. I know who it is when I see Daesol's smile shrink as small as an insect. Her body hardens like it had turned ice cold. I almost want to apologize, because I made her sit here instead of going back to her station but before I could say anything, Kim Jongin talks first.

"Miss Nam," He says in his usual demanding tone. Daesol softens once she realizes his main concern isn't her. 

"Yes?" I raise my eyebrows. He pauses for a moment looking at me, like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how to say it. I assume this is when he notices Daesol in the room, because he closes his half open mouth and looks at Daesol like she had offended his ancestors. 

"Why aren't you at work?" He says, and it looks like she was expecting it, because she immediately stands and bows at him. 

"I'm sorry, Miss Nam just needed help with sorting your schedule and--" 

"It's not your job." He says sternly. Daesol looks up and I see her excited demeanor shrink. She stumbles past him at the door with another small apology, and then faces me and bows the same. 

"Good morning, miss Nam." 

This leaves me completely stupified, to see Daesol who was once a blazing fire seconds ago become a candle low on wax. I guess personality really does change depending on who's watching. 

Speaking of, Jongin quickly faces me when Daesol leaves, back to his unusual, confused expression, like he was so stern to be here, but he didn't know why. 

"If you needed help, you could have just asked Chanyeol." He finally says. 

I shrug and lean back on my chair, playing with the pen in my fingers. "I don't think they'd appreciate it that much. They're pretty busy, you know." 

"So is Daesol, but you don't seem to bothered." 

I snap. 

"She told me herself she had nothing until eleven thirty and she was being more than polite helping me, what the is your problem?" 

From then on I couldn't even bring myself to look at him, but I knew he didn't give two s about anything i said; typical, inhumane Kim Jongin. I roughly handle all his papers and journals, putting all the new notes in-between the dates and pages and closing it with a loud 'smack'. 

"There. Now review it and God so help me, if you tell me to change everything, I will jump off my windo--" 

"Miss Nam." He cut me off, his voice now louder. Oh God, he was closer to me now, wasn't he? 

My thoughts are proven right when I look up and lo and behold, Kim Jongin had his hands on my table, back slouched and eyes staring at me like I was the only object worth looking at in the room. I nudge the leather planner against his chest, but he doesn't flinch. 

"It's Jinae." I remind him with a scowl. He still has no reaction, staring at me silently, almost eerily now. I stare back at him. I'd say we were four inches apart and one move forward could lead to a situation gone horribly wrong. What game was he playing? I look at him and I know he's not making a move. I look at him and I just know he's doing this to piss me off, to make me do something I wouldn't dare do. But to what aim?

Well, Whatever it was, I didn't want to be a part of it. 

I'm the first to move my head back, coughing. Jongin doesn't move, he just stays there, inanimate. My arm gets tired, so I decide to just slide it across the table and into his hand. 

"Look, If you're not gonna say anything, can you please just take your journal and leave me--" 

"Have lunch with us." He says in a sudden, no explanation, no warning. My blood runs cold in confusion. What is he trying to do? 

He returns to his dull expression, as if he was waiting for an answer of some sort, though I assumed a part of him already knew what I was going to say. God, I hoped he did, because I found my tongue stuck behind my teeth.  I think about what to say, figuring a stoic 'no' would not do. I didn't know why it wouldn't come out, I just knew it wouldn't do. Would any words do at this point? 

That's exactly when, no matter how much I had suppresed it before, the thought of Kris comes and for the first time, without any guilt. 

"I'm having lunch with my boyfriend." I say in a voice smaller than I had intended. 

He smirks, lopsided part of his mouth showing. "So soon? I thought you didn't want to get caught?" 

"I won't!" I immediately say. 

After what seems like forever, Jongin finally leans back and grabs his journal, standing straight, but still looking down at me as if he knew something I didn't. He turns on his heel and raises his hand up, waving fingers as some sort of goodbye. 

"Well, Miss Nam, the workload will start in a few minutes. The office really comes alive then. Good luck." 

I my eyebrows. What did he mean? 

Then, just when the door closes, the phone on the corner of my desk rings. 

'That's what he meant.' I think with a sigh, a small wave of nostalgia tugging on my stomach as I pick the receiver up. 

"CEO Wu--sorry-- Kim's office, how may I help you?" 

{ narrator }

"Holy man, she said no!" Baekhyun hurriedly whispers, hands and ear flat on the door. All their eyebrows raise. 

"No way, man!" Chanyeol says in disbelief. 

"I'm just surprised the idiot actually asked her." Sehun muttered, all of their heads turning to him. 

"What was the point of making him ask her her anyway? You two don't seem totally in cohoots. In fact, she doesn't seem like she likes anyone in the damn building." Kyungsoo asks, making animated gestures around him. Sehun could only smirk at him, turning his back and beginning to walk away. 

"You know what? We should get back to work before Jongin comes out." 

And before they could question him any further, they hear Jongin's steps closer to the door and they bolt after Sehun. 

Jongin returns to his empty office. He had never found it empty in the past, and so he makes a mental note to tell Miss Nam to contact that interior designer to come again and tell him what he needed to make it look less hollow. Everything was in place, and Jongin was oddly tired of it. Maybe it was his newfound tick, that he got tired of placement quickly, but for this first time, he wasn't so sure. 

He sits in his usual throne, once again opening his laptop with the barely finished sales report. Jongin thinks the last thing he needs is a break, and that he had to discipline himself much more from then on, especially when toying with Miss Nam was so fun. 

He remembers the image of her wide eyes, pupils glancing at his lips for a split second as if she thought of kissing him, pupils gazing back at his, telepathically telling him she wouldn't do it (even if he didn't even have that in his list of intentions the second he leaned into her desk). Jongin unconsciously chuckles, leaning back on his seat and staring at his ceiling. 

"Jinae." He unknowingly says to himself, and when he catches the syllables rolling of his tongue, a part of him wishes it didn't taste so foreign. "Jinae, Jinae, Jinae." He whispers to himself on repeat. When he decides it wouldn't work out, he purses his lips. 

"Miss Nam." He says to himself. Oddly, it began to taste foreign too. 

"Jinae...ssi?" He mutters. 'No,' He thought, softly cringing 'even weirder'. 

Before Jongin could inattentively construct a mantra, there's a lazy knock on his already opened door. He doesn't even lift his head. 

"I asked her, Sehun." 

"Mhmm." The said boy hums, closing the door behind him and walking to the chair in-front of Jongin's desk. He feels the armrests and drags his to the near end, slouching without a care about his crumpling suit. He glances at Jongin, only to see his neck and his chin, and so he quietly laughs and looks back at his feet. 

"I don't even know why you want to hit on Jinae, but at least my debt to you is paid."

At the mention of his debt, Sehun stares at Jongin again, but the latter refuses to look away from the ceiling. "I can't believe you still remembered you had a debt to pay when I mentioned it." 

"I always remember, Sehun." 

"Jongin, that was ten years ago. We were sixteen. You're twenty-six now--" 

"It's the only time I owed you anything, Sehun. That's how I remember." Jongin cuts him off, and that's when Sehun knew he had to stop. The vision of broken glass and white was getting far too clear, how much more for Jongin? Sehun feels the urge to apologize, before Jongin laughs a little. 

"I can't believe you used the only debt I owed you to ask some girl out." Jongin jeers. "I mean, out of all the models you see through the lens, you want Jinae, my hate-filled, not to mention, taken secretary, and you tell me to do it when you could so easily do it yourself?" 

"Yes." Sehun says, before laughing along with him. "I have my reasons, Jongin, don't make fun of me." 

"Sure you do." Jongin teases him. 

"I do!" Sehun retorts. 'You dense '. 

Jongin laughs again, finally looking at his laptop. Sehun notice his childish aura start to die out. "Yah, Leave me alone, I have a sales report to finish." 

"Are you having lunch with us?" Sehun asks. 

"I don't think I'm having lunch at all," Jongin promptly replies. "But if I do, I'll text anyone of you." 

"Alright. If you excuse me, Jongin, I have to meet Miranda Kerr at the shooting area." Sehun glances at the clock. He stands with a dreamy look on his face. "You know, everyday, I'm just thankful I'm a photographer working for an entertainment company. God bless you. Most of all, God bless Miranda Kerr." 

Jongin rolls his eyes with a grin. "Whatever, Sehun." 

Sehun walks away, grinning to himself as he turned his back to Jongin. 

"I mean, out of all the models you see through the lens, you want Jinae, my hate-filled, not to mention, taken secretary, and you tell me to do it when you could so easily do it yourself?" 

"Sounds a lot more like you're reminding yourself there, Jongin." Sehun thinks to himself. 

"Tread lightly and raise your guard, Kim Jongin." He mutters with a small chortle. "Raise your guard, safekeep your heart." 

{ ahn jinae }

I answer Jongin's umpteenth call, writing everything down on a notepad like some waitress in a suit. He gets an invitation to meet with a company's president the next week, and so I write down the number, time and place and that I'll call them back. Being Kim Jongin's secretary was an extremely draining job, and it seemed that everytime I said something, I was reading a script because every hour, I'm sure I've said something along the same lines just minutes before. 

Hours pass like centuries and I'm given a break from the phone calls. I drop my head in my hands and question my choices. 

Before I could make a logical philosophical conclusion as to why I'm settling for this when I could have been by Kris' side and not have been so stubborn, my phone vibrates on the side of my desk. I peek at the name in-between my fingers.

'Fan fan' 

At the sight, I immediately shoot up to view the text with the same inside-eating fear that it was about taking a job at his rival company but much to my relief, it was only about where he and the guys were taking me for lunch. I make a mental note to stop being so paranoid, and I should have been getting used to accepting my situation. 

It read that he was taking me to Pierre Gagnaire a Seoul, an unbelievably fancy French restaurant on the 35th floor of a hotel overlooking Seoul city, something I couldn't afford, but Kris totally could. It annoys me that we were going somewhere so expensive, because that meant I couldn't reach for the check, but at the same time I don't oppose it. 

I text back that I'll be a little late, just so he wouldn't be surprised if I actually was. I did have to take the longest route possible, just for good measure. 

However, my alarm rings telling me that it was lunch break, I don't even stop by Jongin's office. I immediately rush to bolt out the building, phone in hand. 

The taxi was long and tense as I watched all the twist and turns I didn't even know existed. I hold my clammy fingers, watching the sights and getting closer and closer to the familiar views of the capital city. 

Walking into the lobby was like walking into a royale palace; The small chandelier was what got me first, twinkling reflection of the lights around it. There were gold schemes decorating the floor and wall as a hefty amount of people roaming around. All I was thankful for was that nobody stared at me while I balked at the overall interior of the place. 

I almost didn't care for the elevator as it rose thirty five floors; The view was so stunning, I hadn't noticed the rising feeling in my stomach.

By the time I get there, I thank God I was wearing a suit at the time, because everybody was in formal or business-casual clothing. I tell the girl that 'Wu' had made a reservation and from then on, I was lead to a table for two nearest to the window with a breath-taking view. I stop, assuming that Kris' friends were coming, but seeing the table, I concluded this was just one of Kris' spontaneous dates again. Sweet. 

I sit, reminded of the view from Jongin's office. I smile slowly. Everything was always small when you were thought about it while you were on a whole different level. I wondered if Jongin or Kris had thought about it, if they saw the world like that, if they knew they were so high up and everything around them could be their's. If they every had, the only difference between the two was that one would take the opportunity ruthlessly. 

My thoughts are disrupted by a waiter, asking me if I wanted coffee and for my order. I reply that I'm still waiting, but I'll have water, and I'll order when Kris gets here. 

He leaves, pouring me water in a glass and leaves me thinking, drifting off once again. 

Down there, there were people probably having the worst days of their lives. Watching the view was probably the best part of my day, dragging it far away from the day being the worse. Yes, I was in a job I hated, but somewhere along the line I had forgotten that I had the best boyfriend, though his chair was still empty as of the moment. I think, maybe things wouldn't be so bad if I told him I was working for Monggu. Yes, I would start by telling Kris I loved him and-- 

"Ma'am." The water tells me again. I look at him and smile. 

"Yes?" 

"You've been waiting for ten minutes. Are you ready to order?" 

I smile at him, imagining everything piecing together, completely ignoring the passing of the time. "Yes, bring me the finest wine." 

He smiles back at me. "Beautiful choice, ma'am." 

"As well as some candles. Make the scene as romantic as possible, yeah?" 

He gives me a knowing smile. "Of course, ma'am." 

And I continue to sigh dreamily into the view, until I feel my phone vibrate in my blazer pocket. I smile wider when I see it's a message from Kris.

'Baobei.. I'm so sorry. I can't make it today. My grandfather had a few complications with his alzheimers and I have to see him. I'm so sorry, Baobei.. Feel free to use my reservation and put it on my card, I'll make it up to you when I get back. I'm sorry, baby, I love you so much.'

And that's when I feel my world crash under me. I didn't know who to feel pity for, Kris who's grandfather he loved the most was ill, or myself, who had ordered probably the most intricate, expensive wine in France, and had left my bag in my office. I feel myself turn sick and pale, I put my phone down on the table and massaged my temples. I understood why Kris couldn't be there because God, I knew he loved his grandfather, and I did too, but Oh God, what am I going to do? I have no wallet, no date, and no-- 

A thought fills my head. I hesitantly reach for my phone. 

-- and no shame. 

I write down the number I've been dictating for the hours on end, praying to God that it was the right one, and whoever owned the number was still sitting in his office. I tap my fingers on the table in doubt, wondering if I really should go through with it. Before I could take it back, the other line picked up. 

"Hello?" 

"Jongin, listen. You're at the office where I left my wallet, I got ditched at restaurant, there are so many forks I don't know which one to stab myself with first, and long story short, would you please have lunch with me?"