Chapter Text
"Unconditional love doesn't exist. Pitch declined."
The excitement over Yizhuo's new game pitch flatlined the moment Kim Minjeong—better known as the office fun police —stepped into the room. People exchanged looks, a few subtle eye rolls and you could almost hear the collective “Oh boy, here we go.”
“I haven’t even started, Minjeong!” Yizhuo shot her a death glare.
“You didn’t have to." She casually settled on the table's edge with her arms folded facing everyone.
At twenty-three, Minjeong held the title of the youngest Development Director at AE Studios, one of Seoul’s top gaming companies. She earned a reputation for turning ideas into gold— if they could get past her notoriously brutal feedback. She wasn’t one to soften the blow.
"You're kidding, right? I spent two whole months on the workflow and slides!" Yizhuo rose from her seat. The room fell silent, everyone absorbing her frustration in silence.
“I said no games about love and kidnapped princesses.”
“At least hear my pitch!”
“I read the first few paragraphs of your outline. Almost fell asleep.”
Yizhuo was visibly seething, hands balled into tight fists. "I’ll report you."
"To whom, exactly?" Minjeong asked, unbothered.
"HR, Korean labor law!"
"Go ahead."
"Then the CEO!"
"Feel free."
"Or to the Creative Chief Director—who just so happens to be my best friend!"
Minjeong let out a small, sarcastic laugh. "Oh, you mean the CEO’s daughter? And exactly when was the last time she even cared about any of our projects?" The silence that followed was deafening. "Maybe you could convince your bestie to take a break from her Parisian adventures and actually remember she has a job here."
“You’re insufferable! I fucking quit!” Yizhuo stormed out the door in a fit of frustration.
"Anyone else here not wanting to waste my time with clichés? Other pitches? Speak now." Minjeong continued, unfazed by the previous confrontation and slamming of the door. Sensing the lingering shock among the staff, she added, “Yizhuo quit five times this week. Don’t mind her.”
A few minutes later a lone hand quivered as it slowly rose into the air. It belonged to Minji, one of the junior game developers. Across from her, Danielle, her friend shot a disapproving glare and silently urged her to lower her hand. "Put. Your. Fucking. Hand. Down." Danielle mouthed but Minji took a steadying breath, keeping her hand up.
Minjeong let out a sigh as if she already knew she was in for a disaster pitch. "Alright, let's hear it.”
Minji hesitated before mustering the courage to present her idea to the team. "So, uh, I've got this concept for a VR game," She glanced nervously at Minjeong whose expression remained unreadable. "It's called 'Capybara Chaos VR'. Since y’know, capybaras are kind of a thing now. Players hop on them with rocket boosters and navigate through obstacle courses filled with explosive surprises—"
Minjeong's eyebrow shot up incredulously, halting her mid-pitch. "Capybaras and Rocket boosters? What’s next, rainbow dolphins shooting lasers?"
Danielle cringed slightly.
"Well, I thought it could be, like, totally out there and exciting..." Minji trailed off, her confidence waning under Minjeong's withering gaze.
"Out there, maybe. But exciting? Hardly." The response was swift and merciless.
"I, uh, guess I didn't really think it through..." Minji sunk back into her seat.
"No kidding." Minjeong shot back sharply. "Anyone else?"
Just when the tension of the Monday pitch meeting reached its peak, a timely knock interrupted.
Aeri poked her head in, "Got a minute?"
“Can’t you see I’m in a meeting?”
“It’s very important. Please?” Aeri pushed.
“Let’s pick this up tomorrow.” Minjeong announced and you could hear a collective sigh of relief from the staff as they exchanged relieved glances and began to gather their things.
🎮
"You need to get laid." Aeri announced.
"You pulled me out of the meeting for this?"
"I lined up another date for you tomorrow."
"I'm slammed. We have a meeting with a major client."
"Imagine if instead of work knocking you out, a girl was knocking you around in bed?"
"Don’t you have actual work to do? Deadlines? That fundraising event you’ve been avoiding?" Minjeong refused to entertain her jokes.
“I already handled everything. Your date’s set: time, place, restaurant, all sorted.” Aeri was now scrolling through her phone, completely ignoring Minjeong’s glare. "Oh, and I informed your secretary. So, your date with—" she squinted at her screen, "Momo is all lined up. She’s twenty-seven—don’t give me that look, I know you like 'em older—stupid hot, gym rat, and looks like she could slam you around in bed."
Minjeong’s face went flat. “Are you out of your mind? I specifically said no dates with anyone from the office.”
“Look at your calendar.” Aeri grinned. “And your rule was not dating your boss. Momo’s in events—completely different department.”
Minjeong pulled out her phone and sure enough her calendar was updated, "Wait—what happened to the Japanese client meeting?”
“Rescheduled. You’re free tomorrow. See how easy that is?”
“You can’t just move my meetings around without asking.”
“I just did.”
“Cancel the date.”
Aeri shook her head, unmoved.
“I’m serious, cancel it.”
“One date, Minjeong. After that I’m out of your business for good. No more setups, no more surprises. You’re free.”
Her frustration slowly morphed into reluctant consideration.
“She’s really cute. And, like... ridiculously hot. Please?” Aeri added, throwing in her best pleading look for good measure.
They stared each other down for a solid ten seconds. Finally, Minjeong let out a long, defeated sigh. "This is the last one."
“I pinky swear,” Aeri said, holding up her finger with a grin that Minjeong did not trust one bit.
🎮
The evening with Momo was a masterclass in social discomfort.
She arrived ten minutes late, more fascinated by her own reflection in the window than by the ambiance or, apparently, her date. Not that Minjeong was helping—she had all the conversational charm of a brick wall.
“So,” Momo said, cutting through the silence. “I’ll be honest—my friend set this up for me and from what I gather you’re not exactly here by choice either.”
Minjeong looked up briefly. "That's accurate."
Momo sighed, twirling the straw in her drink. “Well at least you're easy on the eyes. Since we’re already here why don’t we at least enjoy the meal?”
“Sure. If you insist.”
An awkward pause followed as they both scanned the menus. After placing their orders and ate in near silence, Momo attempted to revive the conversation. "So, what do you do for fun?"
"Work mostly."
“Right... but everyone needs a break, don’t they? Any hobbies? Something you like?”
"Not really."
“I just got into hiking, actually. There’s this trail just outside the city and the view is amazing.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
Momo let out a frustrated laugh, throwing her napkin onto the table. “Okay, I’m done. I tried but talking to you is like pulling teeth. Maybe we should just call it a night?”
Minjeong didn’t mean to come off as so dismissive. Yeah, her date was undeniably stunning—she had eyes, after all but she already sensed where this was headed and it wasn’t anywhere good. Hiking? The thought alone made her shudder. She'd rather claw her eyes out than spend her time sweating outdoors. Not that it mattered though. She never seemed to click with anyone. Aeri sent her on what felt like a hundred blind dates and none of it ever worked out.
She hasn’t met anyone who made her want to change either. That was the thing—not one person stirred something in her that made her think, maybe I’ll try harder this time. It wasn’t like she was incapable of caring but she just hasn’t found anyone worth the effort.
"I’m sorry, I’ve been difficult. Socializing isn’t my thing and I shouldn’t have agreed to this." Minjeong replied without hesitation.
"Well, admitting it is a start," Momo got up and grabbed her purse. "I’ll let you handle the bill."
“Of course.” Minjeong replied.
“Glad we agree on something. Enjoy your evening.” Momo said, walking out.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Minjeong signaled the waiter who approached cautiously. "Just the check, please." she requested.
Her eyes wandered around the room as she waited, eventually landing on a familiar face. Jimin, the CEO’s daughter from AE Studios sat among a group of friends, her lively gestures making her the focal point of the table.
People never missed a chance to talk about how Jimin started as just a junior developer, clawing her way up the ladder without any shortcuts, even though her dad was the CEO. She earned her promotion to Creative Chief Director all on her own.
But somewhere along the way, she got involved with the wrong people. The last Minjeong heard, Jimin was enjoying the high life in Paris—still officially on the company's payroll but hardly ever showing up at the office anymore.
She only spoke to Jimin once during a Zoom meeting and it was easily the most draining experience she ever had. Minjeong always made it a point to avoid her whenever she’s at the office. Jimin was the embodiment of everything Minjeong found exhausting. She was always in someone’s business, offering unsolicited advice, and never letting anyone have a moment’s peace. It seemed like she had an opinion on every topic, no matter how trivial and made it her mission to share it with anyone within earshot.
Minjeong’s focus drifted back to Jimin’s table when she saw the nearly tipped wine glass, a dramatic sweep of Jimin’s arm almost sending it crashing. She caught it just in time but not before a splash of red stained the tablecloth. The group erupted in laughter and Jimin with her usual effortless charm, laughed along, completely unbothered by the mess.
The waiter returned, placing her bill discreetly on the table. "Here you are."
"Thank you." She said, handing over her card without glancing at the total.
As she waited for the transaction to process she accidentally locked eyes with Jimin. The other girl’s face lit up with a smile and raised a hand in a friendly wave. Caught off guard, Minjeong broke eye contact immediately. She hastily signed the receipt the waiter brought out to her and gathered her things.
Stepping out of the restaurant, she couldn’t help but steal one last glance toward Jimin’s table. She hasn’t seen her this close before and the sight made her pause. Jimin was laughing at something, her soft, shiny black hair falling effortlessly over what looked like a motorcycle leather jacket. It was surprising—this was an upscale restaurant where most people got dolled up yet Jimin didn’t seem to care. She wore something entirely unconventional but somehow it suited her perfectly.
Sure, Minjeong could admit she was gorgeous. That much was obvious. What suddenly intrigued her was the mystery that surrounded her personal life. No one ever seemed to know much about who Jimin was seeing, if anyone at all. The only nugget of information she had was that Jimin once dated a female Marketing Director—something that at least clued her into her preference.
Minjeong scoffed at the thought. Dating someone in the office? How unprofessional.
But then again it was Jimin. She was always doing silly things with the team, never taking anything too seriously.
People like her are a distraction, she told herself, pushing the thought aside as she made her way home.
🎮
It was the day of Aeri’s big fundraising event and Minjeong figured she could finally relax a little. Her best friend reassured her at least a dozen times last week that everything was, in her words, “ totally , completely under control.” With that in mind, she allowed herself the luxury of a late start, figuring she earned it. She just took her first sip of morning coffee when her phone buzzed—once, twice, and then a third time in rapid succession.
She squinted at the screen, already sensing doom.
Minjeong, I don’t know what to do!
There’s a problem.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Groaning, she set down her mug, already feeling the peacefulness of her morning evaporating. As she skimmed through Aeri’s increasingly frantic messages another notification popped up—this one from her calendar.
𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚎: 𝙱𝚒𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔-𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚈𝚞 𝙹𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗
𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝟷𝟶 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 (𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜)
𝙶𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐? | 𝚈𝚎𝚜 | 𝙽𝚘 | 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎
Her finger lingered over the "yes" button. She almost clicked it, just to get it out of the way, but… every two weeks? How long was this going to drag on? Skipping the first one wouldn’t be the end of the world. Everyone knew she had way too much on her plate. She could always deal with Jimin later.
When she arrived at the venue for the event she was greeted by chaos. Decorations were half-done, staff wandered around aimlessly, and the tables looked as if they have been haphazardly thrown together. And there right in the middle of it all, sat Aeri—slumped in a chair, one hand shielding her eyes from the light, the other clutching a water bottle.
“Aeri!” Minjeong called, marching over. “What the hell is happening?!”
Her best friend looked up with bleary eyes, wincing at the volume of her voice. “I—uh, my assistant was supposed to take care of everything, but… she’s not here. And… things aren’t ready.” Her words were slightly slurred and the bags under her eyes gave away the real reason for the disaster unfolding before them.
Minjeong crossed her arms glaring down at her. “Are you hungover right now?!”
“I went to a party last night… it was supposed to be low-key but things got out of hand, and—” She waved her hand as if that explained everything.
“ A party? ” Minjeong hissed, “You have a massive event to run today and you thought it was a good idea to party the night before?”
“Look, I’m sorry… It won’t happen again,” Aeri whined, sinking further into her chair.
"Alright, Hungover or not you're not just sitting there. I’ll fix this."
Aeri nodded weakly, dragging herself to her feet. “I’ll help. I promise.”
With her best friend sluggishly following behind, Minjeong dove into damage control. She quickly started directing the staff, organizing the mess, and barking orders to make sure everything got done.
Despite what people often said about her being a total party pooper—too serious, too rigid—there was no denying that when things went south she was the one everyone depended on. It was how she gained the respect of everyone around her. People were always in awe of how she kept things from falling apart even when it seemed impossible. Like that one time Jimin took an entire month off during their busiest season. Minjeong pretty much saved the company single-handedly.
By the time the guests started arriving, the chaos has been reeled in though Minjeong has done most of the heavy lifting. She grabbed the clicker for the presentation, her fingers crossed that the worst was over.
Click.
Nothing.
She glared at the blank projector screen, her irritation flaring up again. She clicked the button repeatedly but the screen stayed stubbornly dark. A low murmur spread through the audience.
Click.
Still nothing but before she could snap, a calm voice cut in from behind.
“Need help?”
Minjeong didn’t fully turn around but she could see from the corner of her eye who it was. Jimin—her deep, velvety voice was unmistakable, the kind you could pick out from across the office.
Her jaw tightened, "I’ve got it."
What’s she even doing here? She thought, irritated by the sudden presence.
“Doesn’t look like it.” Jimin noted dryly, stepping forward before Minjeong could argue. With a few quick adjustments to the cables, the projector flickered to life, the screen finally illuminating the room.
“There,” Jimin said with a satisfied smile, stepping back. “Simple fix.”
Minjeong shot her a begrudging glance. “Thanks.” she muttered, not liking that she needed help but too relieved to be stubborn about it.
Jimin nodded with a polite smile before vanishing into the crowd.
As the last guests trickled out and the cleanup began, she turned to Aeri who collapsed into a chair, looking even more miserable than before. “Alright, fine. I owe you dinner—whenever you want. But you’ve only got until the end of the month to cash it in.”
Minjeong let out a tired sigh about to respond when something—someone—caught her eye from across the room. Jimin stood near the exit, quietly watching. Their gazes met and this time Minjeong didn’t break the eye contact. She simply stared back, expression blank—the default Minjeong face. Jimin held her gaze for a moment then let out a small smile and turned to leave.
As Jimin disappeared from sight, she slumped back against the nearest chair, groaning internally. She’ll never hear the end of this. The projector disaster that was supposed to be just a ‘simple fix’ would probably haunt her for the next few weeks—assuming the CEO’s daughter kept showing up around the office.
Minjeong hoped she wouldn’t.
🎮
In the following weeks, Jimin became a more frequent presence at the office. She was everywhere —popping into meetings, consulting with different departments, initiating random discussions. It seemed like every time Minjeong turned a corner, Jimin was there and for some reason it irritated her more than she wanted to admit.
At least the whole projector incident didn’t get rehashed. Usually whenever Jimin managed to save the day or be even remotely useful it would come back around like a never-ending office-wide memo of her competence. But this time? Not a word. Small miracles.
One afternoon in the middle of a sales meeting the door banged open, making everyone pause and turn. In walked Jimin, flashing her annoyingly perfect smile despite being thirty minutes late.
The room was packed, every seat taken—except for the one next to Minjeong because people generally avoided sitting next to her. But not Jimin. Her eyes zeroed in on that seat right away. A couple of people even tried to offer theirs but Jimin just smiled and waved them off, making a beeline for the spot right beside her.
Fantastic. Just what she needed. An entire meeting trapped next to her. Minjeong quietly hoped for some peace and quiet but knowing Jimin, she has a better chance of the fire alarm going off mid-presentation.
She kept her focus glued to her laptop screen and the presentation slides, purposefully avoiding Jimin’s direction. Something about the CEO’s daughter irritated her—probably because every time Jimin opened her mouth, it was the gateway to being dragged into one of those after-work drinking nights that Minjeong despised. And Jimin’s circle? Yizhuo, who still held a grudge from that pitch meeting the other week was a key player. Minjeong could already hear their laughter—sharp, excitable, like a group of bats descending on their prey.
Breaking the silence, Jimin leaned in slightly. "Too serious."
Minjeong barely glanced at her. "Too nosy."
"Is that how you treat your superiors, Ms. Kim?" Jimin said, her voice carrying just enough seriousness to make Minjeong feel a flicker of nerves.
Minjeong turned to face her, a bit frantic, already half-apologizing in her head until she saw Jimin’s face—barely holding back a laugh, lips curving up. "Relax, I’m just messing with you."
Minjeong rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "I’m the last person you should be bothering with conversation."
"And why’s that?"
She finally turned, shooting Jimin a dry, annoyed look. "Well, if you took the time to be hands-on and listened to your employees—maybe hosted that brown bag session they've been begging for—you might actually be a little useful around here."
To be fair, Minjeong was the only person who could get away with speaking like that to the higher-ups.
Jimin just laughed, completely unfazed. “You’re doing a great job. They don’t need a brown bag session. That’s why we have you. You’re handling things well.”
Minjeong wasn’t expecting the compliment but it didn’t do much to dull her exasperation. Before she could fire back her phone buzzed, a message from her assistant flashing on the screen about the café not having her usual oat milk.
She sighed and made a call. “What do you mean AE Café doesn’t have oat milk?” she muttered under her breath before abruptly ending the call.
Turning back to Jimin, she raised an eyebrow. "I’m running on zero caffeine, so please don’t even try talking to me today."
Jimin leaned in and Minjeong was immediately hit with the soft, almost dizzyingly good scent of her perfume—good enough to ask about if Jimin wasn’t so annoyingly smug. “Don’t tell anyone,” She said coolly, “But I think the coffee at AE Café is shit.”
"Your family owns that place." Minjeong pointed out.
“I know a better spot around the corner. It’s on me if we ditch this boring meeting now.” Jimin continued.
Minjeong’s jaw clenched. “I’m busy.”
There was a brief pause before Jimin leaned back, shrugging lightly. "Another time, then."
Not happening, Minjeong thought, rolling her eyes. They were probably fishing for someone new to drag into their late-night drinking circle and she had zero interest in being that person.
She powered through another meeting, barely paying attention, before finally making it back to her desk. As she settled into her chair something out of place caught her eye—a coffee cup sitting next to her keyboard. Attached to it was a note: From that spot I told you. Iced Americano with oat milk :) —Jimin .
She thought about tossing it but after a moment she took a sip. It was exactly how she liked it.
🎮
A few days later the office was buzzing with chatter and Minjeong found herself pulled into it despite her best efforts. Apparently, there was a new game proposal that took over every conversation. It didn’t matter where she was, break room, hallway, cubicles—everyone was talking about it. And naturally, she didn’t give it much thought until Danielle and Minji, the two junior developers shadowing her for the week hovered around her desk.
“Ms. Kim, did you see this?” Danielle asked, sliding a hefty stack of papers onto Minjeong’s already cluttered workspace.
Minjeong took the document but did not give it much more than a passing glance. Who even still uses this? Thought we went paperless few years ago, she thought. “Not yet. Why, should I?”
Danielle smiled, leaning in as if she were about to share a secret. “It’s Jimin’s new game pitch— SYNK Parallel . Everyone’s obsessed. Players navigate parallel worlds with its own set of rules, environments, and challenges. Decisions you make in one world directly affect the others. It’s brilliant. There’s real-time interaction between realities and the gameplay adapts based on your actions across dimensions. It could be the solution to our stagnation with the SYNK Project."
Minjeong frowned flipping through the pages. She didn’t expect this. Sure, Jimin has been hanging around more than usual lately—granted she still couldn’t figure out why—but to see Jimin’s name attached to something so… thorough? It was throwing her off more than it should.
“Hmm,” Minjeong hummed, eyes scanning the text. As much as she wanted to brush it off, the strategy was undeniably solid. Detailed. A few points even made her pause, mentally circling back. Annoyingly, it was actually good—really good.
Minji standing a few feet behind Danielle chimed in, “Everyone’s saying she’s really stepping up. Visionary stuff.”
Minjeong set the proposal down, leaning back in her chair. “Apparently.”
And now she has to figure out why Jimin, of all people was suddenly so… competent. She was used to her coasting by, staying in her lane.
Danielle grinned, watching Minjeong’s face for any sign of her thoughts, “You’re impressed, aren’t you?”
Minjeong rolled her eyes, feigning indifference. “It’s alright.”
But she knew it was more than alright. It wasn’t just the strategy that had her thinking. It was the fact that Jimin clearly put in a lot of thought covering angles that she didn’t even consider. Her attention sharpened as she scanned the rest of the proposal. And for whatever reason that irked her. Maybe it was the fact that Jimin kept surprising her. First, it was small things and now it was a full-blown project proposal.
Minji, sensing the tension, nudged Danielle. “Looks like Ms. Kim’s going to be working closely with her on this.”
Minjeong shot them both a look, caught somewhere between annoyance and something she didn’t want to name. “Don’t remind me.”
That evening, after a meeting in the Marketing Department that seemed to drag on forever, she was itching to leave. She grabbed her bag, and her stomach made it clear she needed food—she was really hungry.
As she fantasized about Korean barbecue and maybe some cold makgeolli to wash it down, she made her way toward the building's right wing. And of course, there was Jimin, sitting in the lobby right by the exit where Minjeong needed to swipe her ID. There was no avoiding her.
She tightened her grip on her bag and straightened her posture, making a quiet plan to slip past without much interaction. She kept her eyes forward hoping that if she walked quickly enough she could escape before Jimin noticed her.
But she wasn’t that lucky.
Just as she approached, Jimin glanced up, her face lighting up slightly. “Haven’t had dinner yet,” she started, casually enough but there was something in her tone. “I was waiting for Yizhuo, but she’s not answering my messages.”
Minjeong’s hand hovered over her ID card as Jimin continued, “I’ve been out of the office for a while and I don’t really know the best places for ramen around here anymore.”
It was subtle but Minjeong could tell. Jimin was fishing, trying to coax her into suggesting a spot and most likely tagging along. The silence stretched and Minjeong’s brain scrambled for an excuse. Anything.
"Well," she finally said, swiping her card, "I’m sure you’ll find a place. You can always Google it or ask your assistant."
Jimin's expression faltered just for a second but she quickly smiled again. Minjeong forced a polite nod before turning away, feeling both relief and guilt settling into her chest as she made her way out the door.
After stepping outside toward the parking lot, she reached the entrance only to realize she parked in the opposite lot. With an exasperated sigh, she turned around and retraced her steps, making her way toward the left wing.
That’s when she saw Jimin again, this time sitting alone on a bench outside the office. No trace of her usual smile, just a distant gaze that made her seem profoundly lonely. There was something in her expression that hinted at a deeper sadness. Minjeong hesitated, watching from afar. Where all her friends now? A small pang of empathy stirred inside her.
Jimin was now wearing a red leather jacket and somehow it looked even better on her than the usual one she wore. The color popped against her dark hair, which fell loosely over her shoulders like she had just stepped out of a photoshoot. Minjeong found herself staring for just a second too long, wondering how Jimin made casual look so... captivating.
She nearly laughed at herself—dinner with Jimin? That was absurd. Why was she even considering it? But then again maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea. Her stomach was growling after all.
As the thought circled back in her mind she took a deep breath, steeling herself to walk over and just as she made her decision, a familiar piercing shriek shattered the quiet of the evening.
“Jiminieeee!” It was Yizhuo sprinting towards her, arms wide open. “I’m so sorry I’m late babe!” She practically tackled Jimin in a hug, squeezing her tight.
Jimin’s face lit up, the sadness lifting—almost. Minjeong noticed it in the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, a hint of something still lingering. She stayed for a moment longer watching as Yizhuo linked arms with Jimin and led her away, their voices growing softer in the distance.
She drove home but her thoughts stayed on Jimin the entire time.
🎮
Minjeong prided herself on being an expert at dodging unnecessary interactions—especially with Jimin. It wasn’t that she didn’t respect her, but her boss’ overly friendly, borderline charismatic energy was a lot to deal with especially during work hours.
Today, though her usual escape tactics were proving useless.
During a meeting with all the execs, Jimin stood at the front, addressing a serious issue that came up. She was talking about company culture when she mentioned an incident from the day before. "Turns out someone collapsed at the café yesterday," Her voice was calm but with a hint of concern. "It was due to extreme fatigue—clinical burnout. Let this be a reminder that no project or deadline is worth sacrificing your health. Make sure to take a break once in a while."
Her gaze then landed on Minjeong who was seated across the table, clearly zoning out but the pointed look didn’t go unnoticed. It felt like Jimin was speaking directly to her. Minjeong clicked her tongue and looked away, feeling irritated but oddly seen.
As usual, Minjeong waited until the meeting room cleared out before leaving. She hated walking out with the crowd. As she sat there, Jimin approached her.
“Ms. Kim, I’ve seen you in five different meetings today. You don’t need to attend everything. You can focus on the ones you really need and your assistant can catch you up on the rest.”
“I like to be hands on, thank you.” Minjeong replied flatly as she stood up, ready to leave. Jimin wasn’t fazed and followed her out the door.
“Do you ever... I don’t know... take a break?” Jimin asked, trying to keep up with Minjeong’s brisk pace.
“I’m taking one right now so excuse me.” Minjeong replied, heading straight for the break room.
Jimin trailed after her. When Minjeong sat down and opened her laptop to check emails, Jimin pouted. “Working in the break room doesn’t count as a break. You should do something fun.”
Minjeong shot her an unimpressed glance. “Fun is subjective.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow and pulled up a chair beside her. “Alright, what’s ‘fun’ for you then? I’m betting... spreadsheets?”
Minjeong’s fingers paused on her keyboard. “What do you want?”
“What makes you think I want something?”
Minjeong sighed and closed her laptop with a subtle thud, not quite giving in but close. “You’re here for something.”
Jimin’s bright smile returned, clearly pleased with Minjeong’s minor concession. “Okay, fine. I want to know more about you.”
“Why?”
"Because as the Creative Chief Director, you report to me and ever since I sent that calendar invite for our biweekly check-ins, you missed every single of them. I've been patient enough not to call you out on it."
Minjeong felt her stomach drop slightly. Right. She has been deliberately snoozing those reminders and hoping they’ll be forgotten.
Jimin continued, “So I figured I’d take the opportunity now. Don’t worry, I’m not here to talk about work. I prefer these things to be a bit more casual.”
“There’s nothing interesting about me.” Minjeong deadpanned.
“Oh, come on! You strike me as someone with a secret hobby, like… knitting tiny hats for squirrels?”
Minjeong gave her a blank stare. “I don’t knit.”
“See? Progress. Now we know one thing you don’t do.” Jimin smirked. “So what do you do? You know, when you’re not glued to your emails.”
Minjeong leaned back slightly, still not amused. “I work.”
Jimin pressed her lips together, holding back a laugh. “You’re making this so hard for me.”
“You’re the one asking the questions.”
“Okay, fine. You’re obsessed with soap operas, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“True crime podcasts?”
“Not even close.”
“You secretly build miniature furniture for hamsters?”
"...no," Minjeong answered but a slight grin hinted at the amusement she felt. She recalled that time she got hooked on hamster videos—the ones where the owner cooked tiny meals and the hamsters slept in miniature beds. That was pretty funny. She wondered briefly if Jimin enjoyed watching them too.
Jimin grinned, sensing she was making progress. “You’re not making it easy.”
"You really don’t know when to quit, do you?"
“I prefer ‘charmingly curious,’” Jimin let out a tight lipped smile.
Minjeong shook her head but her tone softened. “You’re a little ridiculous too...”
“Does that mean I get to ask you more ridiculous questions now?”
Minjeong rolled her eyes, but the gesture was lighter, “We’re done here. I’m walking out.”
“Okay, good talk!” Jimin yelled cheerfully.
Minjeong caught herself smiling, just a little as she left the room barely noticing the subtle lift in her mood.
🎮
Passing the first phase of SYNK Parallel’s development in just a few weeks was no small feat. Typically, this stage took much longer but Jimin's insane dedication made the difference. She often stayed late into the night, tirelessly refining code and addressing bugs. It was because of her that they were ahead of schedule, something practically unheard of.
Minjeong didn’t hand out her approval lightly—there were only two ways to earn it: one, tying a cherry stem into a double knot with your tongue (because let’s be real that skill probably comes with some unexpected perks), and two, knowing your stuff when it came to game coding and development. Jimin turns out excelled at the latter.
The office threw a small party to celebrate, complete with balloons, cake, and a few bottles of booze. When Minjeong arrived the chatter was already loud and for the first time, people were talking about Jimin’s work rather than gossiping about her. The new "hotshot" quickly became the center of attention and Minjeong thinks the praise was well-deserved.
The party was in full swing by the time Jimin walked in, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the celebration. She wasn’t expecting it—certainly not the cheers and raised glasses that greeted her. She gave a small, sheepish laugh, waving as she made her way through the crowd.
“Thank you, everyone,” Jimin began, clearing her throat. Her eyes scanned the familiar faces and there were already a few chuckles as she cracked a small grin. “First off, let me address the elephant in the room. Yes, I’m back. No, Paris did not make me a fashion icon, nor did I become a café philosopher,” she added, earning a few laughs and even some swooning sighs from the crowd.
Minjeong rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile growing.
“But seriously,” Jimin continued, “I messed up. A few years back, I thought Europe would be this magical, life-changing escape. There were things I chased there that I thought would make everything better. But in doing so, I lost sight of what actually mattered. And when I came back... well, I didn’t expect AE Studios to be what it is now. I wasn’t here for most of it, and yet the company thrived. It didn’t just happen on its own. It took real leadership, real dedication... from someone who stayed behind to carry the weight.”
Her gaze swept across the crowd until it finally landed on Minjeong. “To those who stepped up when I didn’t.”
Glasses clinked hesitantly, the noise slowly building up as everyone joined in. But Minjeong just sat there, frozen, gripping her drink. She felt a reluctant smile growing as Jimin’s gaze lingered on her a second longer before shifting away.
🎮
The next day was rough.
The email from the Japanese client was waiting in her inbox and it wasn’t the usual polite tone. It was blunt, accusing her of being unprofessional and irresponsible. Apparently, Aeri’s “genius” idea of rescheduling Minjeong’s meeting for that blind date hasn’t been properly communicated to the client and now they were dropping out of investing.
Minjeong’s stomach churned. This has never happened before. Work was everything to her and the thought of losing such a significant client over something so trivial stung more than she wanted to admit. It wasn’t just frustrating—it was humiliating.
She was right—dating and women were always a distraction.
She tried everything to fix the situation—firing off emails, suggesting new times to meet, trying to explain—but it was no use. The client didn't want to deal with her anymore. When they finally agreed to one last virtual meeting just to "break it to her gently," she knew it was over.
They quickly pulled together an impromptu team huddle to tackle the situation head-on. The client was calm but firm, stating that they were ready to move forward with another company.
She was about to admit defeat when Jimin who has been quietly observing from the back, stepped forward. “Before you finalize your decision, I’d like to remind you why you came to us in the first place.”
The client paused, clearly intrigued but skeptical.
“I understand your frustration, and we take full responsibility for this oversight,” Jimin said, her voice steady but assertive. “But I want to emphasize that this was one bad day, not a reflection of the level of work we’ve consistently delivered. Ms. Kim Minjeong has been a key asset to our company, successfully managing several major projects that have turned into significant long-term investments for our clients—investments that are still thriving today. You came to us because of the quality and commitment we offer, and I assure you, we’re more than capable of continuing to exceed your expectations.”
Jimin’s eyes locked with the client’s as she continued. “We’re not just another vendor, we’re your partner, and our investment in your success remains unwavering. This won’t happen again, and I trust that you’ll see the value in continuing our partnership.”
The client hesitated, clearly reconsidering before finally giving a reluctant nod. “One more chance. That’s it.”
“You won’t regret it.” Jimin smiled graciously.
After the call ended, the executives started to file out. Minjeong was gathering her things when Jimin lightly touched her arm, stopping her. "Stay for a moment?"
Surprised, she set her bag back down and stayed seated as the room emptied. The door clicked shut, leaving just the two of them.
“I’m sorry,” Minjeong said in a low voice. “This was on me.”
Jimin shook her head and took a seat beside her. “Don’t worry about it. Things like this happen. You don’t need to apologize.”
Minjeong gave a small nod but couldn’t quite shake her guilt.
"Have you ever considered expanding your scope?" Jimin asked, her tone unusually serious. This wasn’t her typical silly self.
Minjeong looked up, "In what context?"
"Your role. You have the ability to do more—your influence could reach further.”
"I’m effective where I am."
"Don’t underestimate your potential.”
"Why do you care?"
"Professional curiosity."
Minjeong paused for a moment, her interest piqued before glancing up, “Well, if you’ve got something to say, I’m all ears.”
“We’ll talk about that soon. That’s why I need you to attend our biweekly check-ins. Can you promise me that?”
“Will do. I’m sorry about that too.”
“I know people don’t take me seriously and I can’t blame them—I can’t blame you,” Jimin said, walking towards the door holding it open for her, “And don’t overthink today—it went better than you think. You handled it well.”
Minjeong got up, “You mostly fixed it. Thank you for stepping in.”
“Anytime.”
There was a beat of silence before Minjeong added, “You keep surprising me.”
Jimin gave a small smile, “Likewise.”
“I… I might’ve misjudged you.”
"People often do," Jimin replied, "Occupational hazard, I suppose."
“Have a good day.” Minjeong nodded politely and left.
🎮
The Synk Parallel development team gathered in the conference room, laptops open and notes scattered across the table. The atmosphere was tense—there was a bug in the code and no one has been able to figure it out for days. People were starting to get frustrated, throwing out theories that went nowhere. Minjeong, as usual, sat quietly, observing the flow of ideas.
Finally she leaned forward, squinting at the lines of code on the screen. "What if it’s not the actual function that’s broken, but how it’s communicating with the server?" she suggested, almost to herself.
The room fell silent as the team processed her words but no one seemed to catch on. They all went back to their screens, still puzzled. Then Jimin who has been quietly watching from her seat, stood up.
"You’re right," Jimin said, "We can rewrite the server call to handle asynchronous data more efficiently. It’s a subtle timing issue. If we adjust the delay intervals in relation to the client response, the game will stop hanging mid-sync."
A hint of a smile crossed Minjeong's face—finally, someone was on the same wavelength. Without a word, she moved to Jimin’s desk, opened her laptop, and began updating the code.
Jimin stood just behind her as they both worked through the problem. "If you change the error handling script here and restructure the event manager, it should streamline the whole process," Jimin added, leaning in to point at the screen.
Minjeong nodded, adding in Jimin's suggestion, throwing in her own tweaks as they both bounced ideas off each other. The rest of the team almost faded into the background. The two of them were trading rapid-fire ideas and fixes.
And then suddenly the bug was gone. The screen flashed clean with no error. Jimin gave a low, almost subtle high-five. Without thinking, Minjeong slapped her hand back. She blinked, a bit surprised at herself and glanced around to see the rest of the team exchanging bewildered looks—probably the first time they ever saw Minjeong smile, let alone high-five someone.
"Alright, we’ll pick this up tomorrow. I’m exhausted." Jimin addressed the room but Minjeong who usually waited for everyone to clear out before leaving herself suddenly felt the need to escape. She grabbed her things and left first, walking quickly down the hallway, feeling strangely flustered by what just happened.
Later that afternoon, her email notification pinged.
Jimin: Good job today. If you have any other suggestions, let me know.
Minjeong stared at the screen for a second before typing out a brief reply.
Minjeong: Will do. Great meeting today.
She leaned back in her chair with a smile.
🎮
One afternoon, Jimin appeared by her desk.
“There’s a two-day conference in Bangkok this weekend,” Jimin said, casually sliding a brochure over to her. “It’s about game art development. Lots of new trends to explore.”
Minjeong glanced at the brochure, her fingers tracing the edges as she fought to mask her disdain for such events. Two days? Conferences meant endless small talk, too many questions and an overwhelming amount of socializing—things she would rather avoid at all costs. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. Let me know,” Jimin said with a nod, turning to leave.
“Wait, am I going alone?” Minjeong asked quickly.
“No, I’ll be there too.”
"Oh." Knowing Jimin was coming along suddenly made things interesting. Trying to sound casual, she asked, "Is the hotel any good at least?"
"We can splurge on the best hotel and food—might as well, since my dad will be picking up the tab anyway.” Jimin quipped. “Just let me know what you want, and I'll handle all the arrangements. We can get separate villas.” She gave one last lingering smile before shutting the door behind her.
🎮
When the weekend arrived, Minjeong met Jimin outside the building where the conference was being held. She assumed that there would be a larger group from AE Studios attending but when she looked around it was just Jimin standing there, waiting for her.
She was starting to get used to the idea of Jimin being around but the thought of spending two full days in such close proximity with only her left her feeling a bit uneasy.
“Morning,” Jimin greeted her with that signature laid-back charm.
“Morning,” She replied, trying to muster a smile though her discomfort was clearly written all over her face.
Jimin seemed to pick up on it, “Nervous?”
Minjeong let out a small, awkward laugh. “No, it’s just… I thought there’d be more people from the team.”
“Did you want more people here?”
“No, no,” Minjeong said quickly, her face heating up at the suggestion. “It’s fine. I just didn’t expect it to be… just us.”
“This is the annual Innovation in Game Art & Development Summit, ” Jimin explained, “They only grant two spots per company.”
"Oh, right," Minjeong said, nodding as she realized just how out of the loop she was. She's been passing off these events to others for so long that she could barely remember what they were even about. She was considering handing this over to Minji and Danielle—new team members usually got excited about this kind of stuff.
The conference was surprisingly engaging with visuals and demos that made it easier for Minjeong to relax and take in the content. Jimin kept making small comments, sparking conversations that felt natural—something Minjeong found herself unexpectedly enjoying.
After the first session, during the break Jimin leaned over with a coffee she grabbed from the refreshment table and handed it to her. “What do you think so far?”
Minjeong took the cup, appreciating the warmth. “I usually hate these things. I zone out by the second presentation,” she admitted with a chuckle. “Too much fluff, too many buzzwords, and then I end up pretending to take notes just so I don’t look out of place.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow, smirking, “So, are you pretending this time?”
Minjeong shook her head, “No, actually. This one’s... different.”
Jimin laughed, leaning back in her chair. “I figured. This one’s pretty good, right?”
“It is.”
“I liked how they broke down the collaborative process between designers and developers. It’s something I’ve been thinking about—how to integrate more streamlined communication in the projects we’re handling.”
Minjeong’s interest piqued. “You mean between departments?”
“Exactly. I think if we adopted some of the techniques they mentioned, like those creative workflow boards that allow real-time feedback, it could save us a lot of time and miscommunication.”
“Hmm,” Minjeong mused. “That’s not a bad idea. We could pitch that at the next meeting, set up a trial run on our current project.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Jimin said with a grin. “I knew you’d be open to it.”
Minjeong raised an eyebrow, half-jokingly. “You’ve been secretly scheming to get me on board, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” Jimin teased, “But only because I know you’re good at pushing things forward once you’re interested.”
Minjeong smiled, sipping her coffee. “Well, consider me intrigued. But I’m not always that easy to convince, you know.”
Jimin smirked, leaning a little closer. “Challenge accepted.”
The next session started but this time Minjeong found herself leaning in, actively engaging with the content rather than just passively absorbing it. The more they talked, the more she realized how easy it was to exchange ideas with Jimin. It didn’t feel like the usual stiff back-and-forth she experienced with other colleagues at these things.
By the time the conference ended, Minjeong wasn’t exhausted like she usually was. Instead, she felt energized, even inspired. Walking out of the building, Jimin nudged her lightly. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Minjeong rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. It was… surprisingly good. I’m still shocked.”
Jimin laughed. “I’ll take that as a win.”
Earlier that afternoon, they ended up at booths outside where drinks were being served, and Minjeong, knowing full well that she was a lightweight, felt the buzz creep in after just a couple of sips. Still, she wasn’t about to let Jimin—or anyone—see her tipsy this early in the day. She tried to keep it together, following Jimin’s calm and collected lead as they wandered between booths, checking out the beta games on display. To Minjeong’s surprise, she was actually having fun. It wasn’t just tolerable—it was genuinely enjoyable.
Then they stumbled upon a motorcycle racing game. The flashy graphics and gameplay instantly caught both their attention. Jimin smirked and nudged her. “Bet I can beat you,” she challenged.
Minjeong, feeling bold from the buzz, grinned back. “You’re on.”
The game started and it wasn’t long before both of them were shouting at the screen, fingers flying over the controls as they dodged obstacles, hit speed boosts, and battled for first place. Minjeong, surprisingly focused ended up winning by a fraction of a second. Her on-screen avatar zoomed past the finish line while Jimin’s crashed into a billboard right before the end.
They both screamed in excitement—Minjeong in victory, and Jimin in exaggerated frustration. Jimin pouted, crossing her arms. "I totally let you win." she huffed, trying to save face.
“Sure you did,” Minjeong teased, laughing at the sight of Jimin sulking.
Cute, her slightly tipsy brain mused.
Jimin casually suggested they grab dinner as the buzz from the drinks started to fade.
"So, you think you’ll have the energy for tomorrow?" Jimin asked. “Feels like we poured everything into today.”
Minjeong chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I think I can manage another day. Surprisingly, I enjoyed today.”
“I’m glad. It’s nice seeing you out of the office for once. Actually having some fun.”
“Who says I’m not always having fun? You don’t know me.” In reality, unless reviewing endless bug reports counted as excitement, she wasn't exactly drowning in fun.
“You’re right, I don’t. Actually, no one at the office really does. I asked around.”
“Are you following me around now?”
Jimin smiled, leaning forward a bit. “Well, I had to. Every time I tried to figure out how things were running, all the work led back to you. You kind of kept the company floating when I, um, disappeared a few years back. So… thank you.”
Minjeong paused, feeling a flush of warmth creep up her neck. She could probably blame it on the alcohol still lingering in her system but she knew it wasn’t just that. “I was just doing my job,” she said, downplaying it but the small smile on her face showed she appreciated the compliment.
By the time they left the restaurant and made their way back to the hotel, Minjeong found herself almost reluctant to say goodbye for the night.
Their rooms were right next to each other so they stopped in the hallway.
"Good night, Minjeong." Jimin said with a soft smile.
“Good night, Ms. Yu.”
Jimin hesitated for a moment before adding, "You can call me Jimin."
🎮
The next morning Minjeong woke up to the feeling of her skull being crushed—head throbbing, mouth dry, and a horrible burning in her throat. She groaned, shifting under the covers as her stomach rolled unpleasantly. She couldn’t figure out why she felt so awful. She didn’t even have that much to drink the night before but she was battling what felt like a hangover from hell.
Her phone buzzed relentlessly on the nightstand, a string of missed calls and texts from Jimin lighting up the screen. After staring at it for a moment, she sighed and sluggishly typed back:
minjeong: i don’t feel great
avoid this girl at all costs: u sick? hang on, ill grab some meds.
Not even five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Jimin stepped inside, holding a glass of water and some painkillers like she knew exactly what Minjeong needed. “How you feeling?” Her eyes filled with concern as she walked over. “I bring these pills all the time, just in case.”
Minjeong tried to answer but her stomach lurched and she swallowed hard to keep the acid down. “I feel like death.” she croaked.
Jimin handed her the water, watching closely as Minjeong took a few careful sips. “Sounds like a hangover though you didn’t drink enough for that. Could be a mix of exhaustion and dehydration from all the sun yesterday. Remember those beta games from the outside setup?”
“Sun poisoning? Is that even a thing?” Minjeong muttered between gulps of water, hoping it would help cool the fire in her throat.
“Who knows?” Jimin laughed softly. “Either way, you’re not going anywhere like this.”
Minjeong groaned, slumping back into the pillows. “What about the second day of the conference?”
“Forget about it,” Jimin said, shaking her head. “You need to rest. Besides the stuff they’re going over today is nothing you haven’t heard before. We’ll just stay here.”
Minjeong didn’t need much convincing. The idea of sitting in a stuffy conference room with a headache like this sounded like a nightmare. “Alright.”
“I’ll stay with you, just in case.”
Minjeong blinked at her, taken aback. “You don’t have to do that.”
Jimin shrugged, “I want to.”
And that was that. They spent the rest of the day lounging in Minjeong’s villa, the blinds pulled shut to block out the bright sun. Jimin took care of everything—ordering more water, making sure Minjeong ate something bland to settle her stomach. The headache slowly dulled but the feeling of being taken care of by Jimin lingered, making Minjeong feel something she wasn’t sure how to name. Comfortable? Safe? Maybe both.
By the time evening rolled around, she was feeling much better. They ordered room service, something light—pasta and a fruit platter—before they both decided to head out to the villa’s private pool. The evening air was cooler now.
They lounged in the daybeds by the pool, the sound of gentle water lapping at the edges and the evening air making them both feel drowsy after dinner. Minjeong sighed, glancing at Jimin, who was stirring two cups of tea she brought over from the kitchen.
“I used to think you were kind of obnoxious,” Minjeong admitted, watching Jimin closely.
“Yeah, that tracks,” Jimin laughed, shrugging casually. “Though I just adapt. Like with Yizhuo, she’s loud but in a cool way, so I match her energy. But with you?” She paused, setting down the spoon. “I know I was a bit much in the beginning but I picked up on the fact that you’re not into small talk so I tried to tone it down. But, yeah… I can be very very annoying.”
Minjeong let out a short laugh. "Oh, I know. I used to avoid you like the plague. Constantly."
Jimin almost choked on her tea, barely keeping it together. “Used to?”
“Yeah, well… you’re not as bad as I thought. Only slightly annoying.”
“Stop. I’m blushing,” Jimin quipped, pretending to fan herself.
“Take it while you can. Compliments from me are rare.”
“Oh trust me, I’m framing this moment.”
They shared a laugh, the kind of quiet, genuine laughter that fades naturally into a comfortable silence. Minjeong leaned back into the cushions, feeling an odd sense of warmth spread through her. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this at ease especially with someone she only recently gotten to know.
It has only been a few months of observing Jimin during countless meetings and pitch sessions at work—each time, Minjeong found herself quietly intrigued.
Jimin glanced toward the pool, her smile widening. “You know… I’m tempted to dive in. Wanna join in?”
Minjeong raised an eyebrow but the thought didn’t seem so bad. “You’re serious?”
“Come on. You could use a little spontaneity.” Jimin nodded, already pulling off her sandals. Without a second thought, she stripped out of her clothes revealing a full black matching underwear. The straps crossed over her toned back, perfectly accentuating her figure. Minjeong's throat went dry as she tried—and failed—not to stare. Before she could even process the sight, Jimin ran and dove into the pool, her body cutting through the water with a graceful splash. When she resurfaced, her wet hair was plastered to her face and she was grinning like a kid at an amusement park.
"Come on, jump in! The water's warm, I think there’s a heater or something. Fancy, huh?" Jimin beamed, her eyes glistening under the pool lights.
Minjeong stood there teetering on the edge of the pool, her fingers still fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She was overthinking every little thing—like how to strip without looking awkward especially with Jimin so close by. She hesitated for a moment before finally pulling her shirt over her head, catching a glimpse of Jimin subtly glancing away as if to give her some space. The gesture was awkward but sweet, which made Minjeong feel a little less tense about the whole thing.
She shimmied out of the rest of her clothes, feeling more exposed than she’d like but she kept telling herself it was fine. She couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief that she kept up with her gym routine and pilates. At least she knew she looked good as she stripped down. And thankfully today wasn’t a granny panties kind of day. Small victories.
“Uh… I can’t really swim that well,” she admitted, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment.
Jimin burst out laughing, but not in a mean way. "Oh my god, finally! Something you’re not good at," she teased, swimming closer to the edge. "That’s okay," she said, her tone so casual it made Minjeong relax a little. "We’re not here for Olympic training, just to relax. I’ll stay with you." She extended her hand toward Minjeong.
She let out a breath and carefully slid into the pool, clinging to the edge. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thought. Awkwardness aside, she could handle this—just a casual swim with Jimin.
She eventually took Jimin’s hand. The warmth of her fingers spread through and suddenly the water didn’t seem so intimidating anymore.
“I got you.” Jimin said softly, guiding her into the pool at an easy pace, keeping her close. Minjeong felt Jimin’s hands on her waist, steady and sure, helping her find her balance as they floated together. When she nearly lost her footing, her hands instinctively went around Jimin’s neck, drawing them even closer.
“Sorry, is that… okay?” Minjeong asked. She wasn’t exactly afraid of water but something about the loss of control, the pressure surrounding her, always made her uneasy.
“Of course.” Jimin’s hands moved gently, securing Minjeong’s hold around her neck. “Hold onto me however you want.”
The mood shifted in an instant, the low pool lights and city view creating a quiet backdrop. Minjeong’s fingers tightened around Jimin’s neck, their eyes locked.
“Why didn’t you bring your friends here?” Minjeong asked, her body leaning in just enough to feel the subtle warmth from Jimin’s skin but still maintaining a bit of space. The water lapped softly at her collarbone and she had to push up on her tiptoes now and then to keep from being completely submerged. Jimin however, stood effortlessly in the pool, the water only reaching her chest as her hands rested lightly on Minjeong’s waist, steadying her with ease.
“Well, stuff happened, long story—it’ll bore you and I realized I can’t keep slacking off. I actually have to get back to work,” Jimin began, “So I’m trying to pick up where I left off a few years ago and if I brought my friends here, let’s be real… I wouldn’t have gotten anything useful done.”
“So, me being here is because I’m a total nerd who wouldn’t distract you?” She wasn’t trying to pry but she couldn’t stop the questions from coming.
Jimin laughed, a genuine sound that made Minjeong’s chest flutter. “You see everyone at work depends on you. Whenever I asked for help, it was always, ‘Minjeong did this,’ or ‘Minjeong created that,’ or ‘You should check with Minjeong before doing anything.’ So I watched you for a bit just to see what all the fuss was about.”
Minjeong blinked. “You were watching me?”
“I had to. You were the one who made everything happen. Like that time with Aeri’s fundraising event? I was trying to get things under control but when you showed up, it all just fell into place. It’s like you have this magic touch. I don’t know how you do it.”
Heat crept up Minjeong’s cheeks at the compliment and she hoped the dim lighting of the pool hid the obvious blush. “Well… I just like getting things done.” she mumbled, trying to brush off the compliment but feeling strangely proud.
“You’re pretty amazing.”
Minjeong’s breath caught for a moment. They were close enough now that she could feel the warmth coming off Jimin’s skin through the water. There was something in the way Jimin looked at her, something that made the air between them feel charged, and it had nothing to do with the pool or their conversation.
“Well, thanks.” She said, her voice coming out more timid than she intended. “But you know, I’m just doing my job.”
“You do a lot more than just your job. Don’t sell yourself short.”
For a moment the only sound was the gentle lapping of water around them. Minjeong couldn’t help but notice the way Jimin’s fingers lightly traced her sides as if the touch was second nature now. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. The strange thing was, she didn't mind at all. When did she start feeling this way?
“Thanks for coming with me.” Jimin continued.
She tried to make light of it, joking, "As if I actually had a choice," and attempted to laugh it off.
"Come on," Jimin scoffed. "Rumor has it that if you decide against something, not even my father can sway you. Yet, here you are."
“Maybe I was unsure at first,” She admitted quickly because Jimin had a point. As much as she usually dreaded these events, knowing Jimin would be here sparked her curiosity. It wasn't enough to completely ditch the idea, even though normally she'd be out the door by now. Why did I stay? What am I doing? she wondered, feeling her own thoughts unravel. “But now that I’m here, I don’t think I regret it.” The words slipped out before she could catch them.
“Does that mean you’re enjoying this more than you expected?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re hard to read. I can’t tell if you like being around me... or if you’re just here because you have to be.”
Minjeong’s brain lagged behind the sudden shift in the conversation but somehow her mouth worked faster than her thoughts. “I do like being around you.”
“Oh,” Jimin let out a small, almost awkward chuckle. “Good, cause I like you too.”
Minjeong surely didn’t think if she heard that quite right or she was imagining things. Did she just hear that right? She felt an impulse to ask Jimin to repeat herself, just to be sure. Her lack of experience in these situations was screaming at her. Did Jimin mean she liked being around her or liked her liked her? Were those even two different things? What was she supposed to do now? Laugh it off? Say something clever? Or maybe—god forbid—lean in? What would Aeri say right now? Everything felt like the wrong move.
Jimin must have picked up on her inner turmoil because she tilted her head slightly studying Minjeong. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No, not at all,” Minjeong blurted out, maybe a bit too fast. "It's just that you... you intrigue me."
“What about me intrigues you?”
“A lot of things, really,” Minjeong replied, her gaze steady. "But mainly, you're not the person I expected—in a good way."
“Interesting,” Jimin said with a half-smile. "People always make you out to be this tough, unapproachable person. But from what I've seen, they're missing out on a lot. There's so much more to you. You're pretty amazing. And, well... I think you're really beautiful."
The warmth of those words spread through Minjeong and but before she could process it, Jimin’s hand found its way to her face, thumb brushing along the line of her jaw softly.
“Is this okay?” Jimin whispered, her warm breath lightly brushing against Minjeong's skin.
Minjeong’s words failed her so she simply nodded, her gaze flickering to Jimin’s lips. That was all the signal Jimin needed. Without hesitation, Jimin cupped the back of Minjeong’s neck, pulling her in until their mouths crashed together in a heated kiss. There was no hesitation as Jimin’s tongue slid past Minjeong’s parted lips and before she could even think, her body responded on pure instinct. She melted into the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as Jimin’s fingers gripped her neck, thumb gently brushing the curve of her jaw.
It didn’t take long for her lungs to burn for air. Minjeong pulled away, gasping, chest heaving as she broke the kiss, her breath coming in sharp bursts. She never felt anything like that before—intense, consuming. Her mind briefly flashed back to the last time she made out with someone: that one sloppy, regrettable encounter with a drunk stranger at a bar but this was different. This, she couldn’t seem to pull away from until she had no choice but to catch her breath.
But Jimin leaned in again and this time the kiss was hungrier. Her hands were everywhere at once, tracing the lines of Minjeong’s waist, up her back, pulling her closer like she couldn’t stand the distance between them.
It was hard to think straight with Jimin’s lips devouring hers like this. Was it just because she hasn’t been intimate with anyone in so long? Or maybe it was simpler than that—maybe she just really liked Jimin. She has to admit, she’s been thinking about this more than she wanted to.
Their lips stayed locked as Jimin backed Minjeong against the pool wall, wasting no time in reaching for her bra, fingers working deftly to unhook it. That’s when something snapped in Minjeong’s brain, cutting through the haze.
This was someone she only knew for a few months. Someone she worked with. Worse, her boss . This was breaking all the rules she set for herself and she knew exactly how these situations played out.
She’d seen it too many times—coworkers hooking up with their superiors and it always ended the same: awkward, messy fallout, tense meetings, and cringey hallway encounters. Minjeong used to laugh at how predictably disastrous it was. Her job meant too much to risk it, and she wasn’t about to be another name on Jimin’s list of flings. Not like this.
“Hey,” Minjeong whispered, pulling back slightly. "Sorry I just—can we pause?"
Jimin was taken aback for a second before recovering. "Oh, I’m sorry if that was too much, too fast," she said, pulling back to give Minjeong some space. "We can stop, no problem."
Minjeong looked down, her teeth grazing her bottom lip before she met Jimin’s gaze again, clearly struggling with what to say.
"Do you... want to go back up?" Jimin asked, her lips still swollen and puffy from the kiss. Minjeong most definitely didn’t want to come up, or even stop, but the part of her that overanalyzed everything was already kicking in. This wasn’t how she operated—she was careful, she had rules, especially when it came to work. Just diving in like this was completely out of character for her.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
Jimin’s lips curved into a small, almost sad smile. “I understand.” Her eyes dropped for a moment, and though she tried to hide it, the way her shoulders slightly slumped gave her away. “I, uh, I’ll get you a towel,” she said quietly, swimming away
As soon as they got back inside, Minjeong’s fingers nervously tugged at the edge of her towel as she focused on drying her arms, more to avoid Jimin’s gaze than for any real need. Her thoughts bounced around, refusing to settle. She wanted to say something—anything but her mind kept coming up short.
Jimin was quietly drying off too, though her eyes occasionally flicked toward Minjeong, watching her but staying silent.
Minjeong took a shaky breath, finally breaking the silence. “I’m not great at this kind of thing," she started, "But I keep things... separate. Work and everything else." She hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
Jimin smiled but it was a little strained. "It’s fine, seriously. I get it." She exhaled slowly. "Just so you know, I didn't pull any strings to make this happen or anything like that to get you alone or—"
Minjeong shook her head quickly. “No, it's not like that. I don’t think that, not at all. I came here because I wanted to and I kissed you back. I wanted it too, believe me.” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “But I shouldn’t have... this just isn’t something I do. Especially not at work.”
Jimin’s face shifted slightly, something almost sad flickering in her expression before she masked it. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I really do respect you—both as a person and for what you do. Let’s just... pretend none of this ever happened.”
That should have been a relief but as the words hit, Minjeong felt this strange tightness in her chest.
“I think you’re amazing,” Minjeong said quietly, “And if things were different... I’d love to see where this goes.”
“I was hoping, maybe—nevermind,” Jimin trailed off, shaking her head slightly. The disappointment was subtle but it was there, “You should get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow before we fly out. And if you need anything, just call me.” She slowly turned away, leaving Minjeong standing there—a mess of emotions knotted up inside. Confusion, a longing she didn’t know what to do with and that sting of regret.