A small café tucked away on a quiet street. Dim lights, warm air, and me—absolutely exhausted, barely alive after another long day surviving under Jeon Jaehyuk's dictatorship.
I slouched in the booth like a limp sock, one hand gripping my iced americano like it was the only thing holding me together.
My brain?
Mush.
My emotions?
Nonexistent.
My back?
Betrayed me four meetings ago.
Across from me, Yuna was scrolling through her phone, gossiping about office drama at her workplace while I nodded along like a zombie, my soul still floating somewhere in the HR department.
Min Yuna.
My best friend since middle school.
The human equivalent of a walking highlighter, a straight-A-producing menace with the emotional range of a calculator and the sass of a drama queen on espresso.
She's been with me through thick, thin, and that one horrifying phase where I wore neon green eyeliner and thought it was "aesthetic."
While I cried over exam papers, she corrected the grammar in the question.
While I plotted revenge on my ex, she calculated the statistical probability of me getting another one.
Basically, she's my ride or die…who also ruins the grading curve and steals the teacher's heart with her 0.5 extra marks.
Love her. Hate her. Can't live without her.
(Unfortunately, I've tried. She keeps showing up.)
"OH. MY. GOD. IS THIS YOUR CEO?!?"
She gasped so loudly the table next to us turned to stare.
I blinked in slow motion as she shoved her phone in my face.
On the screen was a grainy, zoomed-in photo of Jeon Jaehyuk, my terrifyingly private boss, shaking hands with an older man. His expression was the usual resting ice-face, hands tucked neatly in his pockets.
But I knew that man beside him.
That was Yuna's boss.
I blinked. Then blinked again.
"Where did you get this?" I asked, taking another sip of my drink like I wasn't lowkey internally spiraling.
Yuna's eyes sparkled. "From one of my coworkers! Apparently our CEO closed a massive deal with JEON Corp today. That pic was taken when Mr Jeon came to our office building for the signing!"
I squinted at the image. "Well, tell him to keep it to himself. Mr. Jeon's big on privacy. If he finds out someone took a photo of him without permission…"
I didn't finish the sentence. I didn't need to.
The mental image of him firing someone through sheer eye contact was enough.
"Right?! He NEVER shows up anywhere," she gushed. "People say he's like a ghost—rich, powerful, but never seen. Wait. Are you saying he doesn't even do press?"
I exhaled slowly and nodded. "Yeah. He doesn't like cameras. Or people. Or... breathing near him."
Yuna fanned herself with her phone and looked back at the image in awe. "Wow. That's so mysterious. So powerful. So—"
"—psychologically terrifying," I cut in.
"Or hot," she argued. "God, look at him. Even pixelated, he looks like he's about to bankrupt someone with a smirk."
I side-eyed her. "That smirk is how he's ended careers. I watched a marketing executive get fired because his presentation was 'too optimistic."
Yuna gasped. "Why do I want him to ruin
me—"
"YUNA."
"What?! You get to work under him every day and you're not even tempted? Like at all?"
I stirred my coffee, lips pursed. "I'm tempted to push him out a window sometimes, does that count?"
"He walked into my building today and I couldn't see him?!?" She pouted sadly like she missed her best friend's wedding. Hello?
I don't think she'll be THIS sad even if she does miss my wedding!
"I bet he looks even hotter in person."
I rolled my eyes. "He probably only came to ensure your CEO didn't mess up the contract by breathing too loud."
She giggled, then leaned backward with a devilish grin.
"Leave all that, you're coming to the reunion right?" Yuna asked, wiggling her eyebrows like a malfunctioning worm as she sipped her overpriced iced Americano.
"What reunion?" I blinked innocently, sipping my coffee with the grace of a misunderstood heroine in a period drama.
What reunion?
My left eyelash.
Of course I knew about the reunion. The entire class WhatsApp group was practically foaming at the mouth about it.
"Don't act dumb," she huffed, tossing a napkin at me. "You know our friends are planning a high school reunion, right?"
"Whatever"
"Guess who'll be there?" Yuna grinned, leaning forward like she was about to drop a bomb.
"Who?" I replied, eyes glued to the coffee table. Avoiding eye contact like it was my toxic ex.
She inhaled dramatically, the kind of breath someone takes before ruining your peace.
"THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE!"
I stared at her like I was about to press an imaginary fire alarm.
"I swear to God, if you say Hanuel—"
"HANUEL!!" she shrieked like a banshee doing a concert.
Ma'am?? Be fr. Is she trying to give me a heart attack or just revive my dormant feelings with a defibrillator?
More like my ex?
"BABE. YOU. HAVE. TO. COME." Yuna slammed her drink down so hard the table flinched.
I groaned and let my head drop back against the seat. Was she serious right now?
Does she really think I have time for that?
Between Mr Jeon's unpredictable work schedule, his thirst for perfection, and his hobby of firing people for simply existing in his line of sight, I was practically a hostage in a glass skyscraper.
"What?! No!!" I shot her a look. "I can't RSVP to nostalgia while I'm dodging spreadsheets and potential unemployment. My boss would fire me before that.'"
"Girl, even prisoners get visiting hours. You need this."
"I need therapy, a raise, and 8 hours of sleep. A reunion with people I barely liked in high school is not on the list."
Yuna whined like a toddler denied candy at checkout. "You HAVE TO COME!
"Noooo"
"YES!! You have to show that motherfu— I mean, gentleman— that you're thriving. That you're a walking success. That you wear Chanel blazers and drive a sexy black Hyundai now."
I blinked. Was she trying to hype me up or get me murdered?
"Is this a reunion or a runway for revenge?!" I hissed.
Me? Show off?
…Okay maybe just a little.
Still, is she forgetting who we're talking about? Hanuel freaking Park. His family used to own half the businesses in town. They probably bathed in Perrier. He disappeared right after graduation—right after our breakup.
No news.
No sightings.
No cheesy Instagram motivational quotes.
Was he dead?
In jail?
In a monastery?
Married?!
Nope.
Not thinking about that.
Not at all.
I don't miss him.
At all.
Nope.
She just kept giggling.
"Yuna, you know I'm over him, right?"
I was not being defensive. You were.
I stirred my coffee again, like if I did it long enough, it would drown the feelings I definitely no longer had.
Totally.
Absolutely.
I'm over it right?
She raised an eyebrow. "Mhm. Over him? Is that why you accidentally liked his gym selfie at 2 a.m. last month?"
I glared. "That was a glitch. Instagram glitched."
She snorted. "Your thumb glitched."
I groaned and rubbed my temples. "Look, even if I wanted to go— which I don't— I literally can't. I don't think I'll get a day off.
Mr. Jeon fired the PR team lead for requesting leave for two days. Just a request, Yuna. Not even a vacation."
Yuna blinked. "Wait—he didn't approve it?"
I leaned forward, whispering like we were being watched.
"He didn't even read it. He just stared at her for three seconds and said, 'If you're so tired, you can take a permanent break. Security will escort you."
Yuna gasped. "NO."
I nodded solemnly. "Yes. HR didn't even flinch. They're immune now."
I sipped my coffee like I was narrating a war story. "Do you really think he'll let his personal assistant take a day off to go party with people I haven't spoken to since they wrote 'SHREK' in my yearbook?"
Yuna looked stunned for a second. Then leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm.
"…Girl. Your boss is a menace. An attractive menace."
I deadpanned. "The devil has abs. Still the devil."
"You're still coming."
"Yuna—"
"Even if I have to kidnap you."
"He will fire me before I even finish packing."
"Then I'll find you a new job."
I stared at her.
Yuna grinned. "You'd look great as a barista."
"Yuna, the pay is too high."
I stared at her with the deadpan expression of a woman trapped in a golden cage. I groaned before I slammed my head gently on the table and looked at her again.
"You think I haven't tried to quit in my head like a thousand times already? I can't resign."
I dramatically gripped my coffee cup. "That paycheck hits my account and suddenly I'm like—'maybe tyranny isn't that bad.'"
Yuna: "Girl."
Me: "You think I'm staying because I like being screamed at for using blue ink instead of black?"
I leaned across the table. "I'm staying because my salary makes me forget the emotional damage."
"You're literally in a toxic relationship with your job."
"It's not toxic if it's mutual." I sipped my drink.
"He gets a robot secretary. I get money. It's capitalism, baby."
"...You need therapy."
"No, I need a raise."
I sighed and dramatically placed my hand over my heart.
"If he paid me any less, I would've been gone faster than the intern who asked for menstrual leave."
"So you're saying you're bought?"
"I'm saying I'm expensive."