Chapter Text
Jumin likes the way you look sitting across the table from him at this RFA meeting.
You’ve been busy and he hasn’t seen you often but right now, the golden-hour sunlight is filtering through the leaves of Jaehee’s cafe plants leaving a dimpled glow across your face, the last of the the party details are taken care of, and you are teasing Yoosung about something Jumin doesn’t understand. He thinks you look ethereal.
You signed your co-write contract with Min Doyoung last week and have already been in creative meetings with him. Jumin thinks this is probably the happiest he’s ever seen you. You’re also busier than he can ever remember you being, even before you’d left. You look happy all the time.
He does suspect that you’re still spending late nights at the studio doing things you’ve been supposed to delegate to others.
You’ve hired a venue, organized artists and sound, have opened ticketing for the party that includes a raffle, and a meet and greet. Hyun keeps his distance but manages civility and Jumin thinks that, that is the least he could do. You’ve spent today in interviews and photoshoots for the song you produced for Doyoung’s current comeback and Jumin has prepared for Jihyun to photograph both of you at the cherry orchard tomorrow.
You’ve told Jumin you’re soft launching him.
You want control of the speed and manner that you’re relationship is made public and Jumin has been content to be the hand holding your coffee, the suit across from you at lunch, and the laughter off screen in your videos. He’s content to post close ups of Elizabeth III in your lap, or the lipstick on your coffee cup in between the promotional photos he posts on his own account.
He likes the idea of this soft launch if he’s honest, the privacy it affords him, or the illusion of it, but it’s about to end. The two of you will be posting the photos that Jihyun takes, revealing each other on your socials and arranging for whatever the media requires to keep your relationship from being salacious.
“I think we should sing,” he hears you say, pulled out of his thoughts.
“Who,” he and Hyun say at the same time.
“Me and Zen,” you say, nonchalantly.
Jumin feels relieved that Hyun looks just as surprised as he feels.
“I guess we probably could,” Hyun says hesitantly. Jumin can see his fist clench in his trousers.
“It went well when you came to the bar,” you press. “People are going to talk when Jumin and I go public next week. I think it would be good publicity for not just the RFA but for our personal projects if we open the music with a song or two.”
“What about Doyoung?” Jumin asks.
“He’s tentatively on the lineup,” you say. “It’s last minute, we’ve discussed doing the song if he can squeeze it in.”
“I think with the buzz right now,” Yoosung says. “That would be a good move. If tickets are slow it could be good incentive.”
You nod. “He does want to announce our collab at the party if we do it.”
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Saeran says.
“I’m concerned that if we do that people may think it’s a misuse of foundation funds,” you frown.
“I’ve announced roles at parties,” Hyun counters. “It’s not any different.”
Jumin watches you nod. You’re mouth is set and he recognizes the clench of your jaw. You know they’re right, but you are struggling to believe the same will apply to you. He understands the way you worry when you put yourself forward in these moments. The industry has forgotten your quiet blacklisting but you have not.
“I’ll double check with my management and let you know my schedule,” Zen says. “For rehearsals.”
“Great, I’m so fucking busy but I’ll make time,” you nod, face brighter, distracted from your worries.
“ Make time,” Saeran mocks. “Are you gonna add more hours to the fucking day?”
“Noona does have some mysterious ways,” Saeyoung nods sagely.
You roll your eyes and wiggle your fingers making woowoo noises at him.
“At some point you’re gonna be forced to let me actually do your job,” Saeran says ignoring his brother. “You know, since Jaeyoung is fucking paying me to.”
“Do we have any more Foundation business,” Jaehee redirects.
“It seems everything that can be, is finalized,” Jumin says eager to get you to himself.
“Don’t put Doyoung in the press kit,” you say. “I think if we keep our firm artists in the official press release we’ll do fine, then when or if Doyoung confirms we can push it on socials. It’ll avoid any bad press from disappointment if he can’t make it work.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t at least hint?” Yoosung asks.
“No,” you say before anyone answers. “We’re ticketing for the first time, we’ve already sold out the limited presales, if the VIP packages sell slow maybe we tease it somewhere but I think we should avoid the potential for disappointment when we’re trying something new.”
“It will also serve us to announce another artist later, to revitalize sales should ticketing slow,” Jumin agrees.
Things wrap up quickly after that and Jumin pretends he doesn’t see you sneak a photo of him, Just like you pretend you haven’t seen him researching contractors. Zen nods his head at Jumin when he walks past and Jumin nods back. You, Jaehee, and Jihyun are all hunched over someone’s phone and he sees the twins still at the table in animated conversation with Yoosung.
“You’re done for today,” Jumin says a moment later, standing behind Yoosung. “Put whatever time you leave here on your timesheet for the meeting.”
“I still have the Park Hyunji cat tree account to review,” Yoosung says.
“Send it to Miyeon, you’ve been working very hard and I don’t think you’re counting your hours correctly,” Jumin tells him. Certain Yoosung has been working through meal times and arriving earlier to the office than he reports.
Yoosung simply nods as whatever the twins had been discussing with him starts renewed.
“Am I driving or do you have Driver Kim circling the block?” You ask. You’re sitting on the counter swinging your feet as the door chimes Jihyun’s departure.
“You have time?” He teases stepping up to the counter and resting his hands on your thighs.
“Do not,” Jaehee scolds behind you. “Make a joke about purchasing her. You’re delivery is awful and you no longer pay me to pretend you’re funny.
You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.
“No kissing on my counter either,” Jaehee snipes.
Jumin simply tugs you to his chest, “I’ll have to take her somewhere that I’m allowed to kiss her,” he says and scoops you off the counter in a bridal carry. Seayoung wolf whistles as you laugh.
Jaehee and Saeran fake gag.
“So I am driving,” you laugh as he sets you down.
In the car as you pull into your parking garage you find yourself curious. “You know,” you say. “The last few weeks you’ve been spending a lot of time here.”
“I don’t think that’s correct,” he says shaking his head. “We haven’t had much time to spend anywhere at all.”
You laugh getting out of the car.
In the elevator with the older woman who lives across the hall you mention it again. “In the time we have spent together, it’s been mostly here.”
“Is that a problem?” Jumin asks, as the doors open to your floor. He nods goodbye to your neighbour but doesn’t move. “I could book a suite if you’d rather.”
“Suspicious,” you pout.
“If you must know,” Jumin says taking your hand and moving towards your door. “I’m having the penthouse renovated.”
You raise your eyebrows and wait.
“I will not clarify, it will ruin the surprise,” he says keying in your code.
“Jumin, you’re not doing something for me at your place are you?” You scold.
“Whatever I am doing,” he says hanging his jacket and slipping off his shoes. “Whether it benefits you or not, will benefit me the most.”
“Jumin,” you start.
“It’s already happening, Noona, don’t concern yourself with it.”
Things with Jumin have calmed since the truth about Sophia came out, since saying I love you outloud. You have accepted over the three months you’ve been together that to Jumin there are simply gestures , he doesn’t differentiate between big and small. So you don’t push and you don’t ask. You like having him in your space anyway. You cook together and when he tip toes off just before you eat you pretend that you don’t know he’s ordering your favorite desert to be delivered afterwards.
With your plans the next day he decides to sleep over, you wake up with his nose pressed to the back of your neck and his arm tight around your waist. You find yourself trying to find reasons to stay in bed like this but in the end you have to pee, and unlike the penthouse your shower does not really accommodate two people.
Jihyun meets you at the airport with Elizabeth III in her carrier. The photos are chaotic, Elizabeth darts around the orchard in her harness chasing bugs, leaping out of Jumin’s arms as the shutter sounds and tangling herself in your hair. Still you think you’ll love whatever your friend sends you when he’s finished editing them.
*
Him [10:35]: My agent is sending Jaehee a contract, it’s some kind of loophole thing since this would technically be a paid entry concert. It’s stupid but I can sing. It’s a duet right, I can rehearse early Wednesday mornings if you’re free.
Me [10:58]: Does 7:30 work?
Five years ago
“I didn’t think you’d have the time for this,” your direct boss is shaking Hyun’s hand, everyone is smiling and you are simply hoping that no one can see how much sleep you’ve missed over this.
“Oh well, when Y/N name asked of course I had to, I mean working with your team?” Hyun laughs, his voice is confident but you can see nerves in his eyes.
The mask is slipping.
“-the best treatment, we called in our tops to get your warmed up and go through the material,” Your boss is saying and Hyun reaches for your hand, squeezing tight. “While the production team gets set up for you.”
“It’s just me recording today?” Hyun asks.
You swallow. “I’ll be doing some harmonies with you, and I recorded the guides until the company decides who gets the song.” You wince as his nervous hands squeeze tighter. “It’ll be just like singing in the kitchen.”
Your team coos and teases as your boss leads your nervous boyfriend out of the room. You immediately busy yourself making sure everything is working correctly, set properly. This song is your baby and your Boss has been bribing you with the company’s triple A girl group if you could get The Zen to feature on the song.
You’d tried everything to get out of it. Hyun’s mother has come down even harder on you both since Sophia passed. Hyun insisting you continue to go with him, each family dinner ending in more snipes about you not contributing to her care. With all the attention on his mother his practice routine has suffered and his insecurity has been perpetually on display in your alone time.
You have been trying your best to give him space, to be supportive but you hate his mother, you hate his family, you might hate the person he is becoming with their conditional love dangling over him.
Hyun being in the other room with one of the company’s vocal coaches, feeling off his game is your nightmare. He’s proud of how far he’s come without formal training, you’re proud of him too. If talent exists Hyun definitely has it but his pride keeps him from reaching out, or even letting you help.
He can read music, but he confuses theory terms. He can sight sing but he has never learned how to identify harmonies by ear. You know this session has potential to go very wrong and you dread the train ride home while he cycles through every mistake in the session.
It starts smoothly. It’s your song, your lyrics, your vision, and your boyfriend in the booth so your teammates let you take the lead. It’s a big deal to get your song noticed as barely more than a production intern and you’re taking it very seriously. You know how to talk to him and you know what you want from the male vocals. You word every retake like you want stylistic choices instead of asking for pitch or tone corrections.
Then the harmonies need to happen. You push for a break but your boss shakes his head.
“He’s been singing for 2 hours straight, at least give us five minutes so he can drink some tea?” You push.
He gives in and you bring Hyun a cup of camomile with lemon, honey and a shot of Nin Jiom from your bag, a habit learned from Sophia. He’s on his phone when you come back and you feel the dread in the pit of your stomach. That’s where it starts.
“What’s this?” He asks as if it’s the first time you’d ever given it to him.
“They’re pushing to get it all done today, your throat will probably be sore,” you say.
His jaw sets. “Does it sound that way?”
“No,” you tell him honestly. “You sound really good, we’re getting this done really fast, I can’t wait to see who they put on it.”
He huffs.
“Did you have a good session with the coach?” You ask.
He shrugs. “Mom called in the middle so we didn’t get much done.”
You try so hard to not look annoyed.
Back in the booth you’re not in charge anymore and Zen’s struggling to understand what they want from him.
“Just sing the third, down the octave,” your boss is saying. “And then it’s a two five ending with a tritone.”
Hyun is frowning at the charts in front of him. You watch the muscle in his jaw twitch as he presses his lips together.
“Go in there and get him back on his game, I told you we shouldn’t have taken a break,” your boss hisses at you.
It’s fifteen minutes of hell. Hyun’s red eyes staring holes through your as you wiggle your phone out of your pocket and open your piano app. You play the note that you’re singing on the guide, then you play the harmony note he’s supposed to sing.
“Try it?” you ask.
He does it.
“Ok with me?” You sing the melody note,
Hyun sings the harmony a little flat. His nostrils flare when you tell him. You watch the tension in his body increase with every small correction, every little explanation. You try to channel Sophia, to channel the years of learned patience from funding your undergrad by teaching.
“You need to relax, you’re too tense to hit anything accurately right now, do you want me to order some food and we can come back to this in an hour?” You ask flipping a switch to cut the feed to the booth.
“Let’s try it again” he says. “But you stay.”
This is where you made the biggest mistake. You thought he was nervous, embarrassed, something that needed support. Something you could help with. But another ten minutes of voice cracking, overcorrection, out of tune, you know you were wrong. He didn’t want support, he wanted a punching bag.
“You always do this,” he hisses as you pinpoint the desperation on his face.
“What?” You mouth the question.
“You’re so fucking critical,” he says sharply.
“What did I do?” You ask, trying to stay calm. Months of tension, months of bickering at risk of boiling over. This is your first break, he can not do this to you.
“You know,” he starts and you watch his mouth snap shut. “Of course I don’t know what you want you won’t just speak fucking plainly, always shoving your education in my face, just show me what you want and I’ll do it.”
“Hyun I showed you what we want you to do,” You start.
“On some midi piano sound, that’s really fucking useful,” he snipes.
“It’s in tune,” you say, voice raising. “Midi or not it’s in pitch, in tune, it’s the exact note we want. You’re the one out of fucking tune. Pull it together and just fucking do it.” You pull your phone out and play the note, then you sing it, then your play it again and hold it while you sing it. “It doesn’t seem that fucking hard to me.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” He shouts. “I should have said no when you said it was your song, I should have known I’d never be good enough to sing something you wrote. Your over complicated bullshit ass charts.”
“It’s not my fault you’re stubborn,” you shout back. “Thirds and two fives are fucking basic.”
“Maybe my Mother is right-” He starts and you’ve had enough.
“On which point Hyun?” You find yourself screaming. “Is that I’m selfish? Or when she says you should quit music and get a real job?”
Everything after that is a blur. There’s more screaming, personal issues getting aired out in the vocal booth and filtered to everyone at the board.
You don’t say anything back after the comment about his mother, somewhere you know there was a lined crossed. In the end security steps in and separates you both escorting your out of the building and into separate taxis. You go directly to Saeyoung’s, which is your second mistake.
Mistakenly, when you and Saeyoung had seen him on the security feed assumed he was there to talk things out.
You’d gotten to the bunker a few hours before, showered and changed into Saeyoung’s sweats and hoodie. You’d explained the entire thing to the twins with your knees pulled up to your chest, sitting as small as you could make yourself opposite them on the couch. You didn’t hold back, pouring out the whole ugly truth. From everything with Hyun’s family, to the song, to the fight.
You didn’t paint yourself in a good light, you were clear with them about the ugly things said on both sides. You didn’t cry. Your throat tightened, your stomach felt heavy and you felt all the telltale signs of incoming tears but they never once fell. You wondered if maybe you’d run out of tears when Sophia died.
“Of course you’re here,” Hyun says when Saeran lets him in.
“At my best friend’s house?” You ask him.
“ Best friend ,” Hyun mimics and you hear one of the twins make a sound behind you. “Is that what you’re still calling him.”
“What else would she call him,” Saeran asks coolly.
“Stop,” Saeyoung tells his brother.
“Do either of you have anything to say to me?” Hyun insists.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back.
“After you called me there to humiliate me in front of all your fucking work friends,” he barks. “You come here and fuck my best friend just to rub it in, right?”
“Hyun,” Saeyoung starts.
“You think I’m a joke?” He says sharply stepping up to Saeyoung.
Saeyoung immediately steps back. “I think you need to calm down.”
You stand up then and step between them. You are so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of his family, tired of this suspicion. Saeyoung isn’t only your best friend, he’s also Hyun’s best friend. There has never been anything romantic between you. He’s become your family, your little brother and you don’t want to see them fight.
“You think,” you start. Your voice is cold, even. You feel detached. This is a scene from a play, a scene from a movie. You’re all acting. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening to you. “ You think that what happened today was me humiliating you? ”
Hyun snorts and crosses his arms.
“You think that I wrote that song, spent a month of my life writing lyrics and putting a demo together, to pitch it to my notoriously hard ass production manager, knowing that he would demand I ask you to feature on it so that I could humiliate you?” You seethe. “You think that was humiliating for you ?”
He sucks his teeth.
“Guys,” Saeyoung says. He tugs at your elbow but you can’t take it. You don’t want to hear what Hyun is going to say when he opens his mouth.
“I think you could have prepared me,” he growls. “I think you could fucking try to get along with my Mom. I think you could stop being so fucking pretentious. I think you think you’re better then me and I’m sick of being your fucking charity case boyfriend who doesn’t know how to sing a third, whatever the fuck that means . I’m sick of you using stupid fucking technical words instead of just saying what you want. You think you’re better then me and then you run off to Saeyoung and expect me to believe you’re not fucking when you’re always hugging him and wearing his clothes,” He shouts.
“You think that’s who I am as a person?” You shout back. “You think that I’m that fucking awful but you still fuck me and tell me you love me? What the fuck does that say about you?”
You tug your arm away from Saeyoung and push past Hyun. You don’t stop, you walk out the door without even putting on your shoes. You walk barefoot out of the bunker in Saeyoung’s sweatpants and hoodie, your hair isn’t quite dry yet and your hood is up as you walk. You don’t have your bag, your phone, you wallet. You just keep walking, breathing deep and trying not to let your own voice ring in your ears.
It’s Saeran that catches up to you. Saeran that has your bag, your keys, your shoes, and a big quilted jacket hugged to his chest. It’s Saeran that wraps the jacket around you and gets you home, who holds you tight to him while you sob, and it’s Saeran who lies awake next to you that night after you drink yourself to sleep feeling, for the first time in his memory, a little bit of sympathy for his mother.
When you are walked out of the company building with a paper box full of your belongings and Saeyoung has blocked your number, it’s Saeran who answers your call. It’s Saeran who sits front and center your first night as a regular musician at the Jazz bar, and it’s Saeran who sees you off when you leave Seoul.
Now
It’s Saeran who meets Hyun at the doors to your company building.
“You don’t need to be her guard dog,” Hyun says handing him a coffee.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to say what she needs,” Saeran shrugs sipping his coffee.
Hyun nods.
You’re already in the practice room when he opens the door with the code you’d given him. Saeran had walked him to the front desk and made threatening eye contact before walking away. He’d had a temporary ID card made up giving him access to the studio wing until the party, and then gone directly to the room you’d emailed him.
He tries not to stare at the jewelry you’re wearing. He knows if Jumin had asked he’d know but still seeing your wearing a promise ring, the matching necklace around your neck, he’s not too proud to say it stings. He’s moving on.
“Ok, hear me out,” you say without looking up. You’re sitting at a keyboard with your back to him.
“I’m listening,” he says. “I got you a latte, with an extra expresso shot.”
“Half sweet?” you ask.
“Of course,” he says. Once upon a time he may have said, you’re sweet enough as is , but he doesn’t.
“Thank you,” you smile. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so happy so early, except maybe the one or two times he’d seen you with your school friends. You usually hadn’t been to bed yet then.
“So what am I hearing out?” He prompts.
“Ok, I just had a thought,” you say and he thinks you’re blushing. “You can say no, it might be a sore spot and I’d understand-”
“Just ask,” he laughs.
“Do you want to sing the song?” You ask, you avoid looking in his eyes.
“ Which song?” He laughs.
You huff and cross your arms.
“A few months ago, just before I ran into Jumin, I got the rights to my song back from my old company,” you tell him. “It was part of a bigger case, they threw it in as a peace offering but,” you take a deep breath. “I don’t know it feels like maybe a full circle moment.”
He chuckles. “More like a fuck them moment,” he says.
You laugh. “I mean they sampled your vocals for harmonies and recorded with an idol but everyone knew you were supposed to be the feature. Don’t you kinda want to rub it in their face a little bit?”
He shrugs.
“People have always thought me leaving the company, and us breaking up are connected to you not doing the song. They had to edit to credit me on it recently,” You tell him. “Jumin and I are public and people are speculating . It’s a thought but if you don’t want-”
“I want to,” he says. “I understand what you mean. I’ll do it.”
“Really?” You ask.
“It feels like the least I can do,” he says sheepishly.
You nod and sit at the piano. “I’m using the original arrangement,” you tell him.
“I’m sorry,” he says. It surprises him, he hadn’t meant to say it. Not yet, hadn’t mulled over what he was going to say. He can tell by the way your shoulders tense that you hadn’t expected it either, hadn’t planned for it.
You play a chord on the keyboard but he presses on.
“You didn’t deserve it,” he says quietly. “I was so focused on proving myself to my parents that I let it consume me. I shouldn’t have let my Mom talk to you the way she did, I shouldn’t have let her try to bully you out of your inheritance, and I should have stopped asking you to come along long before that happened.”
“Hyun,” you say turning around. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I think I do,” he says. “I think you deserve an honest apology. I’m sorry I didn’t do that the first time you gave me the opportunity. I’m sorry that I took all of my insecurities out on you. You never once did anything to deserve or invite those accusations,” he says. “I did what you said, I actually thought about everything and you were right. I’m not in love with you I was just hung up on the romance of a story I made up in my head. You didn’t do a single thing to invite it. I should have been happy for you, I’m sorry.
“It’s fine,” you say. “I’m glad you understand.” You tell him. “And tI appreciate the thought behind you having people check on me after you saw me in Jumin’s office but please don’t do that again.”
He nods.
You turn back around and play through the form of the song once, wordlessly. “I have someone coming in to play for us next week but it was short notice,” you say. “Do you want to listen to the demo?”
He nods.
You’re really just distracting yourself. You don’t know if you’re really ready to accept his apology yet but you’re glad he said it. Glad he knows why you were hurt, what he did wrong. He listens intently to the recording. A new one you made the day he’d confirmed he could sing with you.
“I know what a two five is now,” he says when the recording stops. “And a third.” He smiles. “And a fifth.”
“Sing a sharp thirteen,” you deadpan.
*
The thing about any show is nothing ever goes the way you plan. The party is not immune to this.
Two members of the live band, that you’d auditioned and hired and paid to practice for three months, get food poisoning. You call in a couple trainees who you know sight read well and accept the things you cannot change.
Hyun’s fanclub plans an event with Junseo’s fanclub outside the venue starting at noon, security has to physically move them to the other side of the street when none of your staff can unload into the venue.
You find out that your ticketing glitched and sold tickets to an entire section of seating that does not exist and cannot be accommodated. You find this out at 3am in a panicked call from one of the assistants you’ve finally let Jinyoung hire for you. You find yourself in the company building with him searching through merchandise, emailing the teams for everyone preforming asking for whatever merchandise they have that they can spare. You email apologies, refunds and a link for those affected to receive a merchandise grab bag at no charge for the inconvenience.
Your lawyers send out a strongly worded email to the ticketing agency, assuring that they will take responsibility for the glitch.
You and Hyun sing the song that had changed your life five years ago and then you sing with Doyoung, announcing your album together before introducing the first band. You hold auctions between artists, and the foundation breaks their own records for the first time in years despite the set backs. There are photographers and reporters and everyone has so many questions.
Jumin watches you through it all.
He watches you slip out of your bed at 3am whispering into your phone as you slip on the pants you’d been wearing before bed and his own shirt, grabbing your keys and disappearing out the door. He watches you sitting cross legged in the middle of the stage while the lights are tested calling in favors with trainees from your company. He watches you standing, in oversized jeans and his wrinkled button down with a fuzzy headband and half your makeup done, guiding 300 fangirls and 30 hired security guards to moving what he thinks is some kind of jewelry swap tea party across the street while directing vendors and artist teams into the venue.
Jumin watches you and Zen on the stage banter about your break-up, joking about the song you’re singing being the cause. He cheers, loudest in the room, when you sing the hook for Min Doyoung’s newest hit single live for the first time in history. Jumin snaps blurry photos of you onstage, and records the crowd with a shaky hand as they scream and cheer when you announce the collaboration.
He watches now, leaning against one of the tables, as you stand in front of one of the large promotional hangs talking to a reporter. You’re being interviewed for a video spot, but there are photographers and other reporters taking notes.
“Yes of course there were hiccups along the way,” you laugh. You’re wearing a lace bouse with a velvet pantsuit, it’s daring and you’d been worried about what people might say but Jumin loves the way you look in it. Loves seeing the necklace he’d bought your glint in the lights above the lace.
“Well,” you tug on the blazer. “I regained rights to the song earlier this year. When the idea of Zen and I opening was brought up I immediately thought of that song.”
Jumin doesn’t really listen to the interviewer, he’s focused on the way your face moves in the lights, the way your hair moves as people pass.
“-won’t deny that. Of course people will see it that way. And honestly I was being petty when I suggested it.” You laugh. “It’s also healing, and I think that preforming it was the last step for Zen and I. We’re friends,” you say and shake your head at the reporter. “We still plan to keep our reasons for breaking up between us. It was five years ago, no one should care anymore.”
“And your relationship with CEO Han Jumin?” The reporter asks as Jumin steps closer.
You catch his eye and the smile the blooms across your face is prettier than any garden he’s ever seen.
“Jumin and I are very much in love,” you say as he slips an arm around your waist and covers the hand on your hip in his own, your matching promise rings catching the light from another camera flash.
“Sometimes,” Jumin cuts in. “You meet the right people at the wrong time, I am grateful we were able to meet again when the time was right.”
“Your father is going to gloat,” you tease.
“The Chairman approves?” The reporter asks.
You laugh. “I think the Chairman likes me more than Jumin.”
Jumin laughs and pulls you away from the reporters.