Chapter Text
8:45am
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It started with a phone call.
One of three calls on Day 5 that triggered a cataclysmic roll of events the 26-year old bachelor was admittedly unprepared for.
C&R's handsome corporate heir was in his best suit.
Only, it wasn't paired with his best tie.
The thought that there was something disrupting the impeccable presentation on his person nagged at him like that misaligned shelf he'd spotted in the engineering department whilst doing the morning inspection rounds.
The engineering department - Of all places.
He assumed they would be entirely aware...
Han Jumin's gray gaze rose, eyeing the shifting occupants in the conference room.
"Good morning."
A deep, sweeping tone.
He closed his eyes and crossed his arms.
"I will allow a five minute adjournment. Do get your presentations in order."
Flat, emotionless, chased with a sigh that hinted at impatience.
"Please take your seats."
The younger woman beside him automatically called out in facilitation.
The room bustled with shuffles of papers and rolling chairs.
"Mr. Han,"
Jaehee held three binders out to him.
"- the consolidated reports from the Fashion, Electronics and C&R Accounting firm."
The Blackberry in his pants vibrated.
"Thank you, Assistant Kang." He automatically said.
It should have been the Salvadore Verragamo geometric tie.
The Balemtino prints were too bold.
... God, he hated choosing ties to wear in the morning.
Jumin's eyebrows pushed together in mild irritation as he thumbed through the first binder's 25-page report.
A typo on page 12.
He ejected an audible breath through his nose, delicately pinching the page and giving the corner a little fold.
The brown haired girl standing next to him slipped him a sideways look before straightening and clearing her throat.
"Is there something wrong with the report, Mr. Han?"
"Nothing too unusual." He said.
The phone in his pants was still vibrating.
The handsome Executive Director looked up at the 15 department heads sitting on the conference table in front of him.
"Three minutes left." He informed them before raising a finger at Jaehee and retrieving the buzzing gadget from his pocket.
He noted the caller's name and distractedly picked up.
"Hi Jumin..."
It was the girl.
The corporate heir lowered his eyes.
... She really did have such a wonderfully soothing voice.
Like soft, warm sunshine bathing a grassy knoll.
He allowed two seconds of stuttering.
"- I'm working. I'll call you later." He finally interrupted.
Jumin hung up without a second thought and went back to looking at the binder.
Jaehee was slipping everyone a copy of the meeting's agenda.
She clopped back to his side and dutifully awaited further instruction.
A long finger gave a firm tap to one page, and Jumin slid the binder her way.
"Inform Mr. Sook that I will be needing graphs to accompany these fiscal charts. Incremental data that justifies the investment."
He gave her an expectant look.
"Yes, Mr. Han."
Jaehee's pen flew across her pad in rapid shorthand.
"Now then, if everyone is ready-"
Jumin's eyes rose to peruse the line of familiar faces gracing the elongated table.
"Shall we start with the Financial reports?"
His phone vibrated on cue and he closed his eyes.
"Mr. Jun?" Jumin's baritone rose.
A man in his late 40's with a receding hairline stood up and opened a folder.
Jumin slipped the phone from his pocket and held it out to Jaehee without removing his eyes from the Financial Department manager.
The fellow RFA member took the vibrating gadget and peered at it with a nudge to her eyeglasses.
"- In terms of shareholder accounts, we are seeing a 0.64% increase over the course of the past two weeks, and a forecast of 5% with the implementation of the new clothing and luxury line by the time the weekend hits, sir."
The older man pushed his hands in front of him.
"Note the laundering scandal that has ensued from our competing brand, and reassess the numbers. I am expecting it to rise. Excuse me-"
Jumin commented off-handedly with a glance to his assistant.
Jaehee's eyes were glowing.
He knew that look.
But he could never be 100% sure, so he asked.
"Who's calling?"
Something in him knew.
Her perfectly manicured nails were clutching his phone too tightly.
"It's Zen." She mouthed with a gleam of honey eyes.
He plucked the phone from her and glanced at the caller ID.
The brown haired girl saw his eyelids lower a mere fraction, barely detectable.
And then Jumin's thumb punched a button, ending the call.
He looked up at his employees and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"... Every department has submitted their monthly financial statements?" He lightly asked.
Adjoined murmurs erupted in the room coupled with a few grunts and nods.
"Good." He braced his arms to the table.
"Please give me a thorough rundown, starting from the Bioenergy and Thermodynamics department."
Jaehee lowered her head and gave a discreet sigh.
His Blackberry remained motionless the rest of the meeting.
---
8:56am
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What the hell, that pompous jerk hung up on me!
Zen lowered his phone with a clash of eyebrows.
"Mr. Ryu Hyun."
A bald man in a generic suit remained motionless, save for the curl of his mouth announcing Zen's real name.
"Yeah." Zen's gaze flicked to him quickly, "Just give me a second..."
Honestly, what the hell is that bastard thinking?
Sending him this bald wrestler in a suit that looked tighter than his jockeys...
Zen clicked his tongue in annoyance and grabbed the leather jacket from his closet, trying to ignore the man observing his every move from the apartment doorway.
Seriously, was this some sort of joke?
He stuffed a shirt and his wallet into his bag.
The last thing he needed was Mr. Trust Fund flaunting his resources in front of his face.
Yeah, Jumin was loaded.
Yes he had the connections to almost any acting position because of his affiliation with the media.
On a whim, he could catapult Zen straight to the big top of K-superstardom.
But really, if this was all for his sick amusement or an attempt to get him to surrender to the high-life, wasn't the guy really overdoing it!?
He had declined the offer once, and probably a few more times, but did Han Jumin ever listen to what anyone else had to say?
No!
"... That stubborn prick." He mumbled, tugging at his hems a little too roughly.
The actor tucked his phone into one pocket and finally raised his vermillion gaze to the man barring his exit.
"So..." Zen warily started.
Baldy-man straightened in reaction.
And then another two heads poked out from behind him, in the hallway.
"There are more of you?" The actor exclaimed.
One of them lifted a finger to his earpiece.
"Alpha, we have him."
Zen raised a perfectly-arched flaxen eyebrow.
"Have... - excuse me?" He asked the earpiece-man.
"We apologize for the sudden intrusion on your day, Mr. Ryu. We're special security forces, assigned by Mr. Han Jumin to accompany you wherever you go, sir." A man who looked younger than the two piped from the back.
"Special security forces? What, like... bodyguards?" The actor blinked, finally clutching at his door and opening it all the way.
"Yes, sir!" Young-man affirmed with a respectful bow.
"Sending the van. Note, we are sending the van." Earpiece-man announced swiftly, giving his comrades a solemn nod from behind his sunglasses.
"Wait-... What-" The actor stuttered, pulling back.
"What are we gonna do with a van?!" Came his incredulous rising tone.
"It's transportation. Please tell us your coordinates, Mr. Ryu?" Baldy-man inquired stiffly.
Zen's scarlet stare wandered from his face to the two behind him.
"Okay, listen. I normally just... take the train..." He calmly explained, thumbing to somewhere invisible over his left shoulder.
Baldy-man didn't look very happy at that.
"It's no big deal." Zen quickly assured him.
"I'm about to leave for a meeting with a director, and the station is just a five minute walk from this flat so, boys really," He gave a weak laugh and raised a hand.
"I can just-"
"That's unnecessary sir. You can travel using the van." Young-man quipped from behind with a cheery smile.
"I-... Uh..." Zen drawled hesitantly.
"Please come with us." Baldy-man gave a swift nod and stiffly turned around to head back out into the hallway.
Zen remained rooted before he finally ejected a snort and grabbed his gym bag from the table.
"This is ridiculous." He muttered, pulling his phone out to dial Jaehee's number.
---
9:10am
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They were in the middle of discussing a large electronics investment when Jaehee felt the phone in her coat pocket vibrate.
It buzzed loudly and repeatedly enough for the important man beside her to give a sideways slink of eyes.
Jaehee gave the corporate heir an apologetic twist of mouth and stepped aside to check her mobile.
The previous look Jumin had seen immediately came over her.
She gave a discreet intake of breath and stifled a smile, quickly and almost guiltily, sending him a glance.
She was glowing, Jumin observed detachedly.
Glowing like the pink flamingos his father's 8th girlfriend hammered into their rooftop garden...
Which he immediately disposed of.
They were not suited to his aesthetic taste.
Zen was persistent.
Perhaps, he could have made for a good salesman or real estate agent if he wasn't in his current line of work...
A possible sideline job - Yes, he would have to bring it up with the man.
Jumin's eyebrows lowered in thought as he flipped through the current presentation.
"- And if I may, sir. A study done by our gadgets research team reports a steady increase in user demand for wireless earphones. If you'll kindly turn your attention to the data."
The Technical Department's Head lifted his laser pointer to the wall projection.
"The new iFone Sebun can be purchased with such an option. An inside source states that they've already received several pre-orders of-"
Could it be an RFA emergency...
The thought suddenly struck him.
It was mildly interesting that his mind had wandered during such an important meeting.
Was Zen in danger?
Jumin's hand rose to one sleeve cuff in habit and he worried his thumb and index over the edge of its hem.
He'd sent those bodyguards to make sure precisely that this wouldn't occur.
Only... what if something had happened?
His forehead wrinkled at the thought.
"- thus, if you turn to page 23, I've given a summary of the latest trends and the networks that we can tap into to utilize this particular age bracket and generation, from tweens to young adul-"
"- Excuse me, I must apologize for the interruption." The corporate heir fluidly broke in, turning slightly to Jaehee.
She blinked owlishly at him, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
"Assistant Kang," He gently started, "Please take the call outside the conference room. I am allowing you 5 minutes."
"I... I'm sure it's not that important, Mr. Han..." She assured him softly.
Jumin gave her a look and everyone fell silent.
"Please..." He said again, with a drop in his tone.
"Take the call."
"... Alright." Jaehee blinked in surprise.
She seldom heard him talk like that.
"Then..." She turned to everyone and gave a slight bow, "Please excuse me."
"Do continue." Jumin chased with a barely detectable sigh, turning back to the Technology Department's representative.
---
9:11am
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The conference door slid shut behind the slim-framed girl and she walked to a shadowed corner at the end of the hall before finally answering her phone.
"Hello Zen. I'm in the middle of a meeting. Please make it quick." The girl discreetly murmured.
"That jerk boss of yours..." The irritated voice broke through the fuzz,
"- suddenly sent me the Men in Black. I feel like an alien, Jaehee. What the hell is going on?"
The girl's shoulders dropped slightly and she closed her eyes with a sigh.
"Zen, I'm so sorry if the arrival of those men surprised you, but please bear with it. I don't think Mr. Han will take no for an answer."
"See! See?! That's exactly his problem! I-... don't need these guys."
There was a slight shifting of the phone as Zen's voice drifted away from his device.
"Sorry, I mean no offense, guys - ... Don't take this personally, okay? What I'm about to say... Ah, I'm sure you're all great dudes."
Another shift as his voice returned loud and clear.
"They look like they're either gonna beat me up or scare the people at my meeting away! C'mon, Jaehee. What's this for?"
"You know there is a threat to the chatroom and to the party, to the girl and the classified information in Rika's apartment. Mr. Han has sent all of the RFA members bodyguards for protection, except for the new girl. That is all it is. I hope you do not misunderstand..."
"I want to speak with him." Zen evenly said.
"Mr. Han is currently in a very important meeting with the department heads. But know that he has done this only out of good intention-"
"- How nice of him!" Came a burst of exaggerated glee from the other end.
"Zen..." The girl pinched at the bridge of nose under her eyeglasses.
"Mr. Han paid for this out of his own pocket. He means well."
Silence.
"... Really." Zen finally answered, almost sincerely caught off-guard.
"Yes." The girl patiently provided.
"Out of his own pocket, huh..." He mused.
"If there isn't anything else, can I-"
"Jaehee..."
Something about the way he said her name made her stomach twist into small knots - and it had nothing to do with her inner fangirl.
"... Yes, Zen?" Came the hesitant reply.
"... I want ten... No. Twenty more of them. Yes, twenty is good."
The girl's eyes went wide and she stared disbelievingly out at the marble hallway.
"What...?" She weakly asked.
"Yeah!" Zen asserted firmly.
"With all due respect, I think that's a little-"
"If that's what it takes to get his attention, tell him that." The actor coolly interjected.
The assistant let out another short sigh, kneading a finger at one temple.
"Jaehee, I want thirty beefy bodyguards. All heads of security, who look exactly like this bald one, right here. Wait, you get paid the highest, don't you?"
"Zen."
"Jaehee, please... Just tell him that. Okay? Give him some outrageous cost computation or something. Do this for me, please. I gotta go."
A click and the line was dead.
Jaehee lowered her phone and gave the wall a sullen look.
---
10:00am
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> I'm sorry that I can't send you a security team as well.
> I wish I could.
> Anyway, have you eaten?
The corporate heir sent the line of text messages to the girl before setting aside his Blackberry.
The reply was almost immediate.
A high chime of ding-ding just as he opened an asset inventory file.
The familiar sound of heels pattered into his large executive office and Jumin looked up from the stack of folders as a sheet of white danced along his peripheral vision.
His gray gaze met with a dour, half-lidded stare.
"Mr. Han, please just take it." Came his assistant's tired sigh.
He wordlessly did with a delicate blink.
"That's the expenditure breakdown of your hired security." Jaehee dutifully pointed out.
And then her eyes rose a few meters towards the photo of his cat, before finally lifting to the white ceiling.
"I highly suggest you review Zen's entry, because I have revised it according to his... most current wishes." Came the stressed tone.
Jumin's eyebrows lowered at that.
He raised the sheet and gave it a quick sweep.
The Executive Director's eyes didn't even flinch seeing the quadrupled amount of eight digit figures in South Korean Won listed under the actor's real name.
"Is there a particular reason for this." Came the statement, more than a question.
He raised his eyes from behind the parting of raven locks.
"Please call him." Assistant Kang finally blurted.
---
10:15am
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The van jostled as an eruption of laughter came from the riding occupants.
Zen gave Young-man a pat on his suited back.
"Isn't it, I was dragged home! Ah, it's the best. Beer for me. But Souju on a winter night hits the spot just fine."
He gave another crystal laugh and the bodyguard he now guessed to be the same age as him, gave a beaming smile.
"What's it like, Mr. Ryu..." The man almost ardently whispered, clasping his hands together over his slacks.
"What's what like?" Zen raised both eyebrows slowly.
"Being so handsome!" Young-man declared, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Don't you have trouble getting around? Don't the ladies and even men stare?"
"Ah..." Zen's scarlet eyes lowered.
"That... Of course, you'd ask that." He nodded, entirely morose all of a sudden.
"Yes. Yes, they do." He gave a sigh and swept long fingers over the silken bangs on his forehead, breaking into a helpless smile.
"Well, I was born this way, and so since I was little I've encountered this. I think I'd gotten used to all the staring... - "
His thoughts broke off then, and Zen looked up just as the van pulled to a stop.
"We're here, Mr. Ryu-" Came a baritone voice from ahead.
Earpiece-man turned to look at him from the front passenger seat.
"... I, along with three others will lead you inside. But before that, please wait for further instructions. I will have to inspect the front of the premises for any forms of threat to your person."
He looked around, giving a nod to nobody in particular.
Zen gave him a mute stare.
"... This is crazy." He finally stated in a flat tone.
"We're just doing our jobs, sir." The other man beside him patiently said.
"Ah, of course."
The actor nodded to himself and braced his chin over his knuckles, sending a sulky gaze out the van's heavily-tinted window.
Han Jumin was such a pain.
Because of all the ridiculous security checks down the apartment hallway and into the parking lot, they had to stop numerous times.
And now, he was late for his director meeting.
... That jerk.
---
10:20am
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Jumin stared at his phone as the newest intern placed a cup of perfectly-extracted espresso on his desk.
"Thank you." He didn't bother sparing the employee a glance.
She blushed maddeningly regardless, and mumbled a welcome with a flustered bow.
Those gray eyes mused over the icons on his device in thought.
Perhaps, Zen was online...
The van he'd assigned for each RFA member did have built-in wifi installed in case of emergencies and tracing countermeasures for Luciel's convenience.
As one of the genius hacker's requests, he'd made sure to fulfil it.
Without a second thought, Jumin entered the RFA's private server chatroom allotting time for a 10-minute break before tackling the pending priorities on his list.
He scanned the header for the list of active guests.
The girl was online.
So was Assistant Kang.
Zen was not.
A ping from Assistant Kang signalled the start of a conversation.
"Oh, it's Mr. Han." The bubble slid up with a rising whoop.
"Hello to both of you." Jumin began with a deft tap of fingers.
"Hey, Jumin! How did the meeting go?" The girl's speech bubble burst in.
His mouth gave a bare lift at the greeting.
"Fine. Thank you for asking." He typed out, leaning back into his ergonomic leather chair.
"I was thinking about the cat projects. I'm certain we're making new ground with cheese for cats. I've talked it over with the R&D team, and they are working on a cat-friendly formula."
He slid a finger over his chat bubble selection and poked at the cat-shaped one.
The message popped out in a cute blue silhouette and he smiled, almost childishly.
"Mr. Han, I've arranged an overseas meeting for you, by the way." Assistant Kang typed.
"It's for the new cinematic company C&R is planning to invest in."
"..."
Jumin frowned as he thumbed the dots.
He recalled no such meeting.
A finger added in a "?" before poking the 'send' icon.
"I've already booked your flight for tomorrow." Came Assistant Kang's quick reply.
"It's complimentary! Isn't that nice? They must really want you there." She added.
"Who are these people again?" He typed out.
"Wow, Jumin really has a lot of important people waiting to meet him! Goodluck." The girl chased with a whoop.
"Yes, I wish him luck as well." Jaehee commented.
"They're Cinematography Executives and Talent Managers. I've arranged for them to give you a call, Mr. Han. So that you can figure out the details."
His assistant's speech bubble bumped at the girl's from below.
"Alright." Jumin typed - more hesitantly this time.
The man exhaled discreetly and flicked send.
"I hope the deal goes well." Came the quick pop of an answer from his employee.
And then Assistant Kang sent a smiling animated sticker of her generated chibi-self with flowers dancing around her head.
She must truly be wishing him happiness...
"Thank you." He answered, sincerely.
After a few short pleasantries being exchanged in the chat room, the new RFA member began talking about Zen's photos and a certain Tripter bot.
Jumin hit a tab on his Epol's browser and typed it up to search, noting a mere 8 minutes to pass break-time before having to return to business matters on hand.
He scrolled through explanations of what the bots were, and how they were able to generate automated images for random followers.
Interesting.
A crying Yoosung had entered the chatroom and was complaining about LOLOL servers experiencing downtime during his only break from classes, when Jumin's speech bubble erupted from underneath.
"Do you think we can use Tripter bots to distribute images of cute cats?"
"Great idea, Jumin." Came the girl's immediate reply.
"I really don't know about that..." His assistant's bubble quickly pushed up.
Yoosung sent a beady-eyed chibi-self with a forced smile.
"Seriously. Don't people already do that?" The college student's bubble floated up.
Jumin frowned.
5 minutes - His internal clock informed him.
The young executive director excused himself after more brief pleasantries and finally exited the RFA chatroom, pressing at his list of Contacts.
Scrolling through endless names and finally tapping on Zen's thumbnail photo, he hit dial and reclined, pressing the gleaming black gadget to his ear.
---
10:26am
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The theatre actor had just stepped off the van when the phone in his pocket began a coasting rhythm and blues jam.
He extracted it and consulted the caller ID.
Crimson eyes tightened in annoyance upon seeing the flashing name and thumbnail.
The abrasive look Zen gave off reinforced even more of the actor's handsomeness.
He blinked sideways as young-man stared in awe.
"I have to take this call, but let's start walking. I'm already kind of late." He gave a cringing smile.
The silver haired actor and his four bodyguards traversed the gravel parking lot to the swivelling heads of murmuring passers-by.
Zen answered the call and pressed his Sumsung to his ear as the sound of crunching rocks popped from under his boots.
"It's me." Came the stoic, familiar clip of a greeting.
"Han Jumin, you bastard, what the hell is this setup." Zen snapped as he unconsciously began an aggressive brisk-walk.
The bodyguards hastened to keep up.
"Allow me to ask..." Came the smooth tenor from the other end. "- why you request an additional lineup more than tripling your current security? Is it not sufficient?"
"Forget that," Zen uttered, rolling his eyes and swinging the strap of his bag higher over one broad shoulder.
"I just told Jaehee to give you some actual figures to scare you into calling me... Because you're a jerk who always ignores my calls."
The actor came to a stop at the entrance of the building, gesturing mutely at the bodyguards with a hand to pause.
He slung his gym bag into the nearest plastic chair.
"... Scare me. It's ineffective." Jumin sounded almost amused.
"Dude, I don't need all of this. I'd much rather you send these guys to the girl... I'm worried about her the most!" The younger man exclaimed.
His eyes distractedly scanned the hallway for signs of the director before he turned all his attention back to the silence on the other line.
"- Can't you ask Seven for the address and send them there? Who's protecting her?" Zen finally demanded, moving his long silver ponytail to one side.
"I have tried, and Luciel has refused to divulge any information. Moving on, this is for your safety. But I see you are refusing my help yet again." Jumin answered evenly.
"Look, if need be, maybe I can just have one if it'll make you happy. And that's enough." Zen unthinkingly said, as a patrolling guard walked by.
The man smiled and Zen returned it with a brief nod.
A pause from the line.
Zen closed his eyes and began pacing along the gravel.
"Jumin..."
"... If it will make me happy?" The man's voice quietly asked with a minute trace of static.
"I mean if it'll get you to back off and out of my business." The actor cuttingly explained, almost bumping into baldy-man.
"I won't go so far as to say it makes me happy." The voice on the line clarified.
"But it puts my mind at ease knowing you are safe. I dislike taking risks, even if the threat is at 0.00001%..." Jumin explained in a low tone.
"... You are important, Zen."
The silver-haired actor stopped walking then, hearing the way that voice eased out in dulcet layers before it fell with a lingering drop mentioning his name.
A slight prickle began along the actor's neck before trickling down into his stomach.
His eyes focused on one of the bodyguard's black suits as he brushed the unexpected foreign feeling aside.
"I'm safe, okay?"
His voice had surprisingly stilled in response.
"Good." Came the monotone reply.
"Just, I'm not used to having so many guys follow me around. It's usually the women who are so persistent, and I don't mind bumping into them every once in a while. They probably can't help gravitating to someone so handsome, but these guys... -"
He sighed, looking out at the trees before pressing the receiver back to his ear.
"... Look, I appreciate your concern, Jumin. I..." He paused with a skew of his mouth, nudging at a pebble with his boot.
"I know you mean well, and it's not that I'm not grateful... - "
He stopped then, suddenly frustrated with himself.
Why was he taking the time to assure the bastard?
The man already had whole planets aligning for him, and here he was contributing to a smooth rocket ride.
Damn it.
"I do mean well..." The lower voice replied softly, trailing off.
"Your safety is important. Would you like to have dinner?"
Zen's insides seized at the abrupt shift in question.
He squinted, searching the sky, confused.
"What?" He finally blurted with a clash of eyebrows.
"Dinner. A well-portioned evening meal." Came the mild response.
"I know what dinner is, God."
"To discuss certain matters at hand, have dinner with me. Take the van."
"Oh, were you asking? Because it really sounds like you're shoving this to my face now."
Zen's ears were growing warm, all of a sudden.
It must be because the man was pushing all the wrong buttons.
His face was growing warm, now too.
And that must be because he was now extremely pissed off.
The thought finally spurned the unexplainable irritation he always seemed to get when in contact with the corporate heir.
Might as well have been another allergic reaction all together!
"What's this about?" The actor decidedly asked in a clipped tone.
"I suggest the matter be discussed over dinner." Came the stoic reply.
"Damn, it. I'm hanging up." Zen shot back through gritted teeth.
"Don't be late. I'll text you the details and have the security team arrange the trip accordingly."
And then the line had gone dead before Zen could even object or end the call.
The idea that Jumin had managed to control even the length of their conversation caused another flare of annoyance and the actor gave a low grunt before finally sending the bodyguards a glance and deflating with a sigh.
"Alright, let's go guys. The director must be waiting inside, it's freezing out here." He mumbled.
"Affirmative. Surround him, quadro-formation." Earpiece-man instructed with a zipping gesture.
The men immediately snapped into his personal space.
"Jesus." Zen stiffened as a solid chest pressed into his back.
Too close.
---
10:29am
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The young heir sat back in his chair, finishing his cup of coffee and mentally counting down the last minute of his breaktime.
What was it about this unequal treatment Zen had for the RFA members versus him, that seemed so disquieting?
When the girl, or Jaehee, or Luciel, or even Yoosung offered help in any way, Zen always seemed to take it willingly.
And yet, with him....
There was always that wall of cold decline or resistance.
Han Jumin did not like being refused.
If he had to describe it, it was troubling.
No, to be more precise about his emotions, perhaps it was aggravating.
He felt similar dealing with a fickle-minded stock investor, or that Swiss Banker in the meeting last week who refused to offer anything less than a 100% interest rate for loans.
Zen was like the Gangnam land-owner, Mrs. Lee, who was stubborn to relinquish her title when he'd offered triple the current market price.
Ridiculous, she had no use for an empty lot.
And why was it that despite Zen reminding him of these people, he still wanted to help him when he'd simply dropped everyone else?
There was no doubt that his unbending loyalties to the RFA, to V and to Rika, was a great motivator in the matter.
That aside...
His eyes rose to the expanse of towering corporate buildings outside his office window.
A pulsating vibration erupted from his mahogany desk, cutting off any further thoughts on the matter.
He whisked the phone off the gleaming surface and studied the foreign number displayed on his screen.
This had better be important, and not another call from a Fortune Top 100 "Most Eligible Bachelors" agent.
"This is Han Jumin." The heir briefly answered, receiver to ear.
"Good morning, Mr. Han! Aneyonggggg-haseyoeee." Came a confident, but crooked attempt at Korean.
He didn't recognize the voice as any of his overseas managers, nor was it a familiar business associate from the international sister companies.
Jumin had an exceptional memory, and once he heard a voice, he remembered it.
It was nobody he recognized.
"Good morning, may I know who's speaking?" Jumin responded, shifting from Korean to perfectly accented English to alleviate the communication barrier.
"Oh," The bright voice piped.
"- This is Director M. Knight Jamalan from DreamShape pictures. I'm calling about the producer's meeting we'll be having with you tomorrow and verifying your arrival?"
"Ah, yes... Such a privilege to be speaking with you Mr. Jamalan. It's kind of you to call me yourself..." He studied one cufflink in thought.
"Please do run me by the details of the meeting so that I can prepare myself accordingly." Came the immaculate flow.
"Of course! Well, let's see, apart from your presence and a brief on-the-spot introduction of C&R International, we will be discussing the upcoming productions and how you can contribute to each project." Mr. Jamalan dutifully narrated.
"Duly noted."
Jumin lifted his eyes to the doorway just as Jaehee walked in with another pile of folders.
"Moving on, I've just been informed that your company will be shouldering the costs of airline travel. How gracious. I will most certainly be there."
Jaehee lingered, flooding with awareness upon hearing the foreign accent and string of words.
"Of course, Mr. Han! Oh, I'd like to know if you'll be bringing anyone else with you for the contract discussion? We've actually designated an extra ticket for you, if you have someone in mind..." Came the director's enthusiastic voice, startlingly clear from halfway around the world.
Jumin's mouth was about to open with the beginnings of a kind decline when Assistant Kang slipped him a pink post-it with a neatly scribbled note.
The heir's steely eyes skimmed it briefly.
Txt -> From Zen: If dinner topic not important. Answer is no.
"I see..." Jumin said into the phone.
He gave his assistant a void look.
Jaehee gave an apologetic twist of mouth, lifting her shoulders in response before turning to walk away.
A sound of a discreet exhale from his nose and Jumin had straightened, swivelling his chair to face the glass panes covering the side of his office.
He would leave no room for the younger man to decline him.
He would take, kindly, but fiercely. And forcibly if need be, without hurting him.
Perhaps, immaturity and his obsessiveness for control instigated his next words.
"... That is quite generous of you, Mr. Jamalan. If you don't mind, I will accept your offer." Jumin raised his eyes to the clear, cloudless sky.
"There is actually one person I would like for you to meet... An actor."
Jumin's mouth lifted mildly as he finished.
There was no doubt in his mind Zen could possibly object to an all-expenses paid trip to meet an American director.
---
10:03pm
"No."
The string symphony ended on cue then, and Jumin gave the man in front of him a sideways narrowing of eyes before crossing his arms.
"What?" The heir asked in a darker voice.
"You heard me, I said No."
Zen's hands curled over the finely-trimmed tablecloth cutting around the atmospheric restaurant's table for two.
His fingers twisted over the material that bore a possibly higher thread count than all his bed sheets thrown together.
The corporate heir lifted his eyebrows, genuinely surprised before lowering his wineglass to face him entirely.
"Why?" He finally asked.
"Jumin, is this why I'm here? So you can offer me another opportunity with one of your impressive connections?" The handsome actor's jaw clenched.
"In case you'd forgotten my encounter with Saudi Arabia's UN representative two years ago, let me just remind you. I don't speak english. At all. What were you thinking?!"
The theatre actor tossed his arms up, giving the man in front of him an openly bewildered look.
"I happen to be proficiently schooled in business english, it will not be a problem-" The corporate heir began.
"That's not the point!" Zen declared, before reeling his emotions in with a frustrated exhale.
"Jumin," He calmly began after a slow intake of breath.
"Yes, Zen." The heir provided just as placidly.
"If I do accept this, how am I gonna star in any kind of english film or production...if I can't speak english?!" Zen sarcastically hissed, sliding in with a narrowing of scarlet eyes.
"... I am fairly certain I can get you a language coach, and you are fully-capable of memorizing your lines..." Jumin closed his eyes.
The silver-haired actor slumped back into his seat, blinking with disbelief at the man's one-track mind.
And then he crossed his arms with a haughty glare.
"Jesus." He muttered bitterly.
Jumin gave a mechanical blink, clearly unfazed.
"Why are you doing this?" The actor finally asked in a deceptively mild tone.
"Your steak is growing cold. I suggest you eat it while it's in prime condition." Jumin ignored the question with a delicate incision into his sirloin.
"Why do you go so far for me?" Zen asked again with a slightly hardened voice.
The corporate heir gave him a look and then directed his gaze down to the man's plate.
"Is it to annoy the hell out of me?" Zen also ignored the gesture, refusing to relent.
"Because, I gotta admit, Mr. Trust Fund, you're a pro at that!" He announced, giving an exaggerated show of being impressed.
Jumin looked at him apathetically.
"Yeah, you got me." Zen clapped with a nod. "Woohoo."
"It's not that, Zen." The raven-haired man murmured, narrowing his gray eyes.
"Is it because you want to show me the importance of money, and how dreams don't succeed unless you throw it in someone's face?" The actor finally said, expression slipping into seriousness.
Jumin momentarily thumbed at his cuff and straightened.
"I'll admit that's true, but-"
"- I've made my way just fine without your intervention or money..." Zen whispered, eyeing him.
"Because of my own headstrong decisions, I am where I am. I think I'm doing okay, thanks."
"It will be much simpler, and easier if you come along on this trip..." Jumin continued, unfazed.
"I'm doing this for your own succe-"
"- You don't understand anything, Jumin." The actor impatiently interrupted, closing his eyes.
"I assure you, I understand a great many things." Jumin interjected with a frown, forking at the medium-cooked slice.
"Well, jerk, you sure as hell don't understand me." Came the tired statement as Zen pushed back into his chair with a flat stare.
Silence from the C&R Executive Director.
His gray eyes remained on his plate, searching the string beans and truffle mashed potatoes for a hidden answer.
That detached gaze finally rose to meet with a stony crimson stare.
He knew enough about business dinners with clients, and they've never shown as much starkly obvious opposition as the man sitting in front of him.
Why.
The nagging question wormed into the tangled threads constituting his pent-up thoughts.
Perhaps, he needed to re-evaluate his approach.
If Zen thought he understood nothing, then he would simply play along with that.
"What if I want to." The corporate heir mildly said.
He observed the slight lowering of his companion's shoulders.
Zen gave a few blinks before his eyebrows stitched together, struggling to comprehend the young executive.
"What do you mean?" He asked, sincerely baffled.
"What if I want to understand?" Jumin asked again, setting down his knife and giving his full attention to Zen.
"Understand..." The actor trailed off, waiting for Jumin to fill in the implied blank.
"... You." Jumin murmured the answer.
Zen raised an eyebrow as the raven haired man in front of him folded his hands.
"I have given this matter thought, and it bothers me. Why you refuse my help..." His eyes studied Zen's hesitant ones.
"Could it be because you feel I don't consider you, and by extension, your emotions... important?" The voice lifted gently.
"Well... You don't. And it's not just me, everyone thinks so." Zen slowly said, withdrawing.
The corporate heir stared at him wordlessly.
"Explain." He finally instructed in a quiet timbre.
"For starters, you don't listen. You disregard the decisions of other people..."
Zen's crimson gaze lowered to his steak as he finally cut into it as he talked.
"Everyone has their own freedom and right to walk their own paths independently. And they can choose however they want to live. You should respect that."
The actor sent him a brief look.
A slice of steak was hovering over Jumin's parted lips as he appeared to intently listen.
"Anything else?" The heir slowly asked.
"Yeah! Just because you don't agree with how a person lives or decides, it doesn't mean they're doing it wrong. So lastly..." Zen forked a particularly large slice into his mouth and chewed in thought as he studied the gold beams on the lounge ceiling.
Jumin watched a slivering trickle of juice disappear into the parted seams of that mouth.
"Mm!" Zen finally stabbed his fork at the air with emphasis.
"- Stop trying to control other people."
He pushed the words past his full cheeks with a sharp nod at the executive.
Jumin's mouth tugged low at one end and his eyes slid down again to study Zen's constant chewing.
"Beg your pardon, Mr. Han." Came the interruption from beside them.
"Yes, what is it?" Jumin removed his stare from those grease-coated lips and looked up at the maître d'.
"The kitchen is closing in 30 minutes and we would like to ask if you have any last orders?"
The older man with a neatly trimmed salt and pepper mustache regarded both men with beady eyes.
"I would like to keep the restaurant open for the next two hours. I will answer for your overtime pay." Jumin unthinkingly said, directing his eyes back to Zen.
The actor's face crumbled, almost comically.
"God! Just- ... No, Jumin." Crimson eyes squeezed shut in frustration.
"See, that's what I mean, you jerk. Have empathy for other people!"
The head waiter's eyes widened at the flippant name-calling, though he remained ramrod-straight and admirably professional hearing someone berating the Chairman's successor.
"I am being entirely empathic by paying for the extra hours." Jumin reasoned, slipping a neat cluster of string-beans into his mouth.
"... Send them home. On time." Zen leaned forward with fervent insistence.
"C'mon," He waved his napkin at Jumin before dabbing it to his lips.
"- these employees have families to make time for, they have to get adequate sleep. You need to care that these people have their own lives, and sometimes at your own inconvenience you gotta conform to normal working hours. And don't even think about money as compensation in exchange for their comfort. Some things are greater than money."
The corporate heir studied him for a moment, completely silent.
And then he gave a sideways slink of gray eyes at the head waiter, and tilted with a small nod.
"I suspect you heard my companion. Expect us to vacate in half an hour." Came the murmur.
"As... you wish, sir...." The wizened maître d' uneasily answered, caught off guard at the conflicting treatment.
And then he gave a bow and after a brief waver, finally walked away from the table.
The corporate heir watched the man disappear into the kitchen double doors before turning significantly back to Zen.
"As you wish." Jumin repeated, looking his surprised companion over.
Zen blinked, pressing into his chair with a dumbfounded stare.
His throat tightened when Jumin's mouth softened into a ghost of a smile.
"W-ell..." He stared at the man in momentary loss.
"I understand how it can be beneficial." The heir provided, closing his mouth over a mound of mashed potatoes.
At that, the actor broke into a heart-shattering grin that lent newfound warmth to his scarlet eyes.
"Great." The actor commented, grabbing his utensils and enthusiastically attacking the meal.
It wasn't a bad expression at all, that, the corporate heir observed.
Charming.
In fact, it rather pleased him to elicit such a response from the man.
It felt good to earn approval this way.
At this discovery, something in Jumin's chest shifted slightly.
In allowing Zen to control a specific situation, it had delighted him.
That delight had revived a semblance of trust and acceptance.
Zen's affirmation... His approval made him feel...-
A slight warmth settled over his face and he began obsessively thumbing at his cuff again, lost in more thoughts.
"Guess you do listen every now and then!" Zen mused, breaking the silence with another dazzling smile.
"Of course." The raven-haired man found himself saying, before the hodgepodge of internal churning forced him to close his eyes.
Perhaps the steak was disagreeing with him?
Though, this feeling wasn't unpleasant at all.
... Something did want to expel from his person, he could feel it squeezing at his chest and throat.
"That's a great start." The actor encouragingly said, looking the man over with slow interest.
Jumin gave him an almost reluctant glance before his gray eyes wandered towards the exit.
"Then..." The heir slowly started, "-might I request something else?"
"Mm?" Zen gave an off-handed bite of sound as he chewed.
"I'd like to..." Jumin expelled a sharp breath, "No...-" He rephrased.
"Can we continue this discussion in my penthouse?"
The expression on Zen's face grew slack hearing the question.
He lowered his fork and knife.
"... Uh, I don't think that's-" The man ventured, shifting.
"Your cat allergies, I know." Jumin cut in with a slight widening of eyes.
"I have an extra room, a patio with a foyer, a lounge area. Elizabeth the 3rd does not wander those places."
Zen's flaxen eyebrows lowered uncertainly as he listened.
"The maid comes every morning, after I leave for work, to vacuum those particular areas... as well as everywhere else, I suppose." He continued.
"Jumin..." Zen gave a breath of a wary laugh.
"A bar with a private smoking section." The heir finally said, expecting the man to cave.
Zen winced and looked to the side, "It's a little late for that don't you think? And, it really does a number on my skin..."
"Indulge me." The executive suddenly said, refusing to let go of the matter.
"Indulge... you...?" The actor's voice rose slightly.
"A formality. What I really want to say is - I want to learn more about you." That low voice dwindled to a discreet lull.
The man's eyes fastened relentlessly on the actor.
"What exactly are you planning to know?" Zen slowly questioned, shifting under the stare.
"Whatever it is you have to tell me..." Jumin answered without hesitation, lifting his face.
"You say I don't listen... Well, now, I will. If you tell me your thoughts, your grievances, your feelings..."
His dulcet tone descended to a bare breath, low and almost inaudible.
"I will take it all... without question."
Zen's chest tightened strangely, seeing the man's unwavering gray gaze finally drop to his glass, relinquishing the hold on him.
"I don't really know what to answer right now..." The younger man began with blunt honesty.
"... I can wait." Jumin murmured, swirling his red wine.
The rest of Zen's words decidedly left and he slowly closed his mouth.
Something changed in the air between them then.
Zen had always been especially sensitive to such things.
A veil of silence, not entirely awkward, fell over the table.
It was somewhat... intimate, if there was any way he could really put it into words.
A private moment - the type you could remember for years.
The kind of memory that constantly came back during idle times; complete with the sights, sounds and scents eternally preserved.
Zen had never, in any other instance, been so non-confrontational with the man.
He could say this was the first time they were enjoying a conversation simply for what it was without passive-aggressive intent.
(Admittedly, most of which was his doing.)
And then Zen realized something else.
Jumin had never, in all the years he'd known him, waited so patiently for a complete response without intervening.
Something had definitely changed...
The scarlet gaze flicked up to study the man more thoroughly as he pinched the stem of his wineglass.
The very picture of debonair breeding, now leisurely sipping at his drink while holding all the confidence of the billionaire he truly was.
Only, the moment Jumin's eyes met his, he oddly broke the contact - Almost too abruptly looking down at his plate.
Huh. Weird.
Zen thought.
"We have 10 minutes..." The executive quietly said, alleviating the deafening pause.
The man's internal clock was accurate as ever.
For a moment longer, Zen continued to watch him.
And then Jumin's broad shoulders lowered, breaking the composure of the business tycoon facade he always seemed to generate.
A slim finger worked to tug gently at that impeccable tie, making it slightly crooked and angled to one side.
He didn't realize how nice Jumin's hands were, really, but that wasn't the point here.
Zen finally arched an eyebrow when the man undid the first button on his dress shirt - the one closest to his neck that held the collar together.
A gesture that seemed to affect Zen even more than he allowed to think.
To be honest, he'd never seen Jumin loosen a tie or unbutton his shirt in public before.
"Is something wrong?" Zen finally gave in with the question, the nagging persistence now chewing at him.
The man expelled a breath through slim nostrils and leaned forward, finally giving the silver-haired companion a somewhat tired look.
"I'd just like to say... I would have approved your request for more security if you really needed it, without question."
Zen allowed a small pause and then collapsed backwards with a sigh.
"Yeah, I know, I'm important and all that..." He mumbled.
In the yellow glow, Jumin looked almost... dejected.
Zen's chest gave an unexpectedly small squeeze seeing the vulnerable expression.
And then another thought began to form, only because he was so staggeringly intuitive...
... Was Mr. Trust Fund lonely?
Zen's eyes searched the man's unwinding form.
To some extent, he had to be, right?
Being so drawn to that damn furball, even going so far as to designate certain human qualities to it.
He was almost delusional, come to think of it.
The man's relationship with his cat, apart from the fact it was borderline disturbing, could be a thinly-veiled cry for real human companionship.
.
.
.
Didn't they say that the loneliest people were the ones sitting on top?
Did he just... maybe, need a friend?
Was Jumin just too proud or oblivious to really know it?
Zen's gaze unconsciously softened before he cast a mute look at his own plate.
Ah, damn, he was just too nice.
God really must have made a mistake - Attractive and nice?
He gave an internal sigh.
This was just too much.
"... Alright, Jumin." Came the actor's decided reply.
The raven-haired man slowly looked up.
"Yeah, let's hit the penthouse." Zen sighed, trying to ignore the creeping itch already tingling at his nose.
---
TBC