33

I was bent over laughing my ass off, wiping my eyes.

I just couldn't hold it in. Maybe I was depressed. That could be why Mirae's stupid joke about Hoseok's shirt made me spill my coffee.

Because what the fuck?

Mirae said he had been wearing the same shirt for the past three days because he was sleeping with the pantry worker. She washes the same shirt for him every day, and honestly, we smelled a familiar detergent on him. Total lie. I know. But the thought of it was too funny.

Then, I had a meeting with Mr Min about the management office trip. He applied a video background to the screen that had bees hovering in the back.

Mr Min almost slapped his ear off when he saw it. I bit my lip so hard that I almost chewed it off. We tried not to laugh. We really tried. But we had to escape. By the time I was in the pantry, I was already on my knees, and Mirae was holding the counter for her life.

"What the hell—" I choked on my own breath, my bare knees pressed into the cold tiled floor. "What the hell is wrong with you Mirae?!"

"Did I lie?" She held her stomach, trying to breathe. "And Mr Min had to do that? Right when I couldn't hold it in?"

I remained in that position, my eyes getting heavy with tears, until a fat drop splattered on the floor and reality came rushing in. I was a fool. I was a fool to think that I was laughing just because everything was funny.

I tried to wipe my eyes with the back of my hand but I was already fucking crying.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Motherfucking no. Not now.

Oh my god, with Mirae right next to me, I couldn't afford to!

"God, you're too funny for me, Mirae!" My voice trembled, hands desperately fixing my face. I hunched, crawling under the marble counter on my fours. The heck no.

I wasn't going to be destroyed by emotion in front of a colleague whom I mentored.

Why the hell was I crying? Wasn't everything just fine? Did my brain not get the memo? Fuck this shit. Fuck everything! I wanted to scream into the vending machine into rolling out a candy bar for free but my stomach was sinking and there on my knees I felt like a dramatic queen maybe. Because I was still crying with my head bowed down. My chest was tight, as if my boobs had suffocated my lungs.

I still missed Jong Suk.

Why the fuck did I still miss him?

Why the hell was I crying after I got all the closure in the world to get my ass away from him?

I was so disappointed in myself for being this pitiful for a man. A man? No sir—ma'am. Was he even fucking missing me at all?

I blinked as more tears splattered on the floor. I gathered some breath into my mouth and cleared my throat.

No.

We're going to get through this, Haerin. We're going to move on like a son of a bitch!

I was going to fucking figure out a way to live without him. Yes. This air-tight condition was going to get the hell out of me. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, trying to get up and banging my head on the marble above me.

It hit too hard. My head almost spun at the contact, the ugly boink making Mirae giggle harder.

She bent low, trying to peek at me to make sure I wasn't dead.

"Are—are you okay, Haerin?" She enquired, her voice still shaking from the rough use of her throat. No wait. That sounded wrong. You know what? Fuck it. It didn't matter if it sounded wrong if that's not what I meant. Right?

I lowered my head and reversed myself from under the table, my stomach hurting. Sordidly, I rose to my feet and held the counter for support it couldn't give.

This was the worst part of my life, honestly.

I wanted to talk to someone about it. I wanted someone to say that Jong Suk still loved me and missed me. But that just made me a home-wrecking whore now. Even thinking about him felt so wrong and yet all my head was filled with these poopy thoughts of him. It felt like backstabbing the girl he was married to.

Someone had to kick me in the shin to remind me that I had to get this off me like an exorcism repelled ghosts.

"Look at you," I turned to Mirae, scrunching my face. "You just ruined my make-up."

She chuckled, "You look just fine. Nothing has moved." She waved at my face and I was relieved for a second.

I had to remember to go home and give a rating to this make-up website for staying intact.

"I think I'll go to the washroom to fix myself though." I rolled my eyes. "Maybe have my lunch and then come back once I'm ready to face Hoseok and Mr Min."

She laughed again. "Yeah!"

My throat itched when I gulped. I couldn't wait. I turned and started walking towards the corridor that could lead me to the washroom. I hadn't even carried a thing to touch my face up. Fuck these designers for not giving formal skirts a pocket to hold something.

"Miss Kang!" A voice made me flinch before I could push the glass door to take the washroom route.

I turned to see the receptionist waving at me.

Ugh.

Right.

Another load of crap that Neureva had saddled on my back. The weekly checklist. I didn't want to go there but the financial need to be here kind of made it difficult not to.

So, unwillingly, I headed to the reception desk, my feet dragging behind me. They smiled at me, offering me the pen to complete the checklist.

I was reading through the first person's list when the glass door opened and Kim Taehyung strolled inside. All fashion and funk, as he swung a paper bag around his finger.

Our eyes met and—oh god—when I tell you his twinkled, I am not lying.

I smirked and turned to grab the pen that the receptionist was offering me.

"Your team is solely responsible for the lack of amenities, Miss Kang." The receptionist said and I huffed.

"I make them work like a dog so it's only fair they ruin this department of Neureva," I muttered as I checked the items listed.

The receptionist laughed.

Basically, Mr Min's team—which is partially mine—keeps on ordering things like diaries, pens, notebooks, headsets and just random things. And because nobody notices it until it's too late, we alone were responsible for a lot of unnecessary expenses. It was highlighted to the upper management and they decided that only the items approved by Mr Min or me could be ordered from the inventory.

So I was just making sure that Hoseok hadn't written marker pens here without there being a need for them. Because no. He wasn't using any whiteboards. Why the hell did he need markers? Unchecked.

"Hello, Miss Bicycle." Taehyung put the brown bag on the table before me. "You make coincidence look like fate. What's up?"

My lips curled at him. "Just the usual. Boring manager things. Assistant manager things." I cleared.

"Uh-huh." He nodded. "Well, same for me. Just boring brother things. My lazy brother forgot his lunch today. I think I'm here from Copenhagen to deliver items to him."

I didn't smile, continuing to scribble into the sheet. I wished I had Jungkook's fountain pen. That shit wrote like butter on paper. "Yeah. He should learn something from you and be helpful like you are. Instead of requesting heating pads on company money."

I scratched that request off like it had personally wronged me. What the hell was Seokjin even thinking by ordering heating pads? Did he get periods or what?

"Really?" Taehyung placed his elbows on the table, taking a full view of my face. "You think I'm better than him?"

"So far, yes." I shrugged, waving the pen at him. "Look at you. All this Y2K fashion. I like how comfortable and cool you make this look. I swear I'd look homeless if I tried that."

"Oh?" He stared down at his attire and then back at me. "That's a first. I've never received compliments on what I wear."

"Pick-me much?" I rolled my eyes and then pushed the paper back to the receptionist.

"Yeah, if I get picked, that is."

I laughed.

"Funny," I said flatly. "But you're still his brother so that's, like, minus fifty points already."

"Well fuck me." He almost whispered as if it pained him to hear that. "That's ruthless. What does he even do to get such a bad rep? Does he not work?"

"Hah. Ask him yourself." I rolled my eyes. "Though, the Danish cookies get you up by like five points."

Namjoon needed sticky notes. Why? What was he making note of? Unchecked.

"Well, that asshole does have will-issues with honest work." Taehyung chuckled, his voice too deeply derelict. "And I'm much obliged for the cookies. Should I apply for a position to be your supplier?"

Too rich. His voice was too rich.

It was like a coffee candy with too much chocolate syrup. Great. That's how I start my bad comparisons. If his voice was shape, I would think it would be a square with rounder edges. Oh god kill me for even trying such stupidity.

"Sure." I smiled and then brushed the leaf off the shoulder of his jacket. "And this is a professional place so keep your curses to yourself."

I didn't wait. I turned to get to the washroom. I had bigger problems than a cooler Y2K version of Seokjin. I guess, if someone was handsome then his sibling was naturally meant to carry that legacy. But I had problems with men leaving me to marry other women so no Y2K fellow. Seokjin could take care of him.

•••

"I think there would have been a point in having all those handsome guys around me if I had a shot with them." I dropped a grape in my mouth, my mouth tightening when the sour liquid squeezed out.

What the hell was Mom buying? All the fruits were terrifying!

Bo Ah hummed into the sky. "I mean, you haven't tried anything but I'm sure you'd have succeeded if you did."

"That's where you're wrong." I adjusted the pillow underneath my back. "I think our definitions of handsome are different. Besides, I haven't been approached by anyone from my team! Tell you what? I'm not that pretty, Bo Ah."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He deadpanned as if this joke was lost on her. "You literally have the personality of a celebrity. Why the hell do you think you're not pretty? And I swear if this is some stupid attempt at hearing praise—"

"From you? Yeah, right." I scoffed. "I'm serious though. Girl pretty and guy pretty are two different things. I might be attractive to girls but I'm a definite failure when it comes to guys. They don't see me romantically."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Bo Ah rolled her eyes. "Pretty is pretty."

"Of course, for a girl like you who fits into all the ridiculous standards, it's not a problem." I sneered at her, biting into another grape and regretting it. "I'm not even getting a good guy to date."

"You have Jungkook?"

There it went.

For a second there, I had a heart attack but then I remembered who she meant when she said that name.

"That guy's not handsome enough!" I squealed. "How do I explain that I get feelings only if the person has a certain level of attractiveness? Call me shallow but it's true."

"That's not shallow. That's normal. Besides, you're like spending hours just brightening your vagina, and how the hell do you just settle for any guy?"

My face exploded. "You didn't have to say it like that..."

"But—isn't that true?" Her body propped up on her elbow. "You literally spend hours cleaning yourself up as if you're going to have sex now but what the fuck do you even get in return for all that?"

I chuckled at the ceiling.

"You know, just last week, I went for this Brazilian waxing treatment," She leaned closer to the phone so I could hear her better. "I felt like I had a vasectomy or something. It was so fucking painful!"

"What—?" I sat up, giggling loudly. "What the hell?"

"I'm not kidding!" Bo Ah exclaimed. "The girl before me, oh god, the wax got stuck and they couldn't pull it out! She started hollering there. Crying for life and then they had to use warm water and stuff to calm her down."

"That's a horror story," I muttered with a shudder.

"But the point is," Bo Ah snapped. "You're doing so much for your lady organs and keep them beautiful."

"You sound like Mr Han's female version right now." I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm trying harder to keep my lady parts beautiful but that's hygienic."

"Yeah. It's hygiene, I know. But not when you're drinking pineapple drinks too."

Fuck.

"So what?!" I bashed her. "I mean, I always have to be prepared for sex, right? I don't want someone to regret it when they undress me."

"Oh right. Is that what that Jong Suk bastard said?"

I chuckled too loudly. Loud enough to be visibly fake. "No, I mean—" My voice choked for a second there but I cleared my throat. "It's not that."

Bo-Ah's smile flickered as if she had realised the consequences of bringing that up too. Honestly, I didn't blame her because I had to move on. I couldn't expect people to just stop talking about him. That would be unfair.

"Damn it, Bo Ah," I grunted as I sat up on the bed. "I want to change my hair. That's it. I want to try a new hairstyle, but I don't have the money, so can you pay for me? I'll pay you back once I get paid."

"Really? Change your hair? I mean, I'm down to pay but don't you fucking back out or chop it all off. I hate when girls do that." Her neck snapped at me, eyes two wide bulbs of shock.

"I won't. You can suggest something." I tilted my head. "I'll ping you the location, just help me decide what to go for."

"Alright, bitch. Get ready." She grinned through the screen of my phone.

I smiled and jumped off the bed, grabbing my clothes and changing into a most random pair of jeans and a top I could find. In a matter of minutes, I had darted out of the door in the sun.

I wanted to do this.

I was to fucking do this and get this over with.

The salon I chose was the same one Bo Ah went to. It was farther than I would usually opt for but I didn't mind the exertion on my body that day. I wanted to fill my mind with something that wasn't that constantly bitching pain.

Bo Ah met me in the next hour outside the salon. I wouldn't enter without her making sure she introduced me to the stylists herself.

"How can we help?" A man stepped up, eager as he looked between us.

"Her." Bo Ah pointed to me, "We need to go crazy on her. I don't want the length of her manhandled. What do you suggest we do?"

"Hmm..." He hummed to himself, gliding his fingers through my hair to check what I had going on.

I had nothing going on. I always had straight black hair.

"Consider that I need to manage it every day before work." I reminded them. "I don't have the time to deal with complicated hair."

"Of course." The stylist said. "We'll give you something that can be easily tied up. Maybe work on the colours? I feel chestnut brown would look amazing on you, Miss...?"

"Kang."

"Yep." Bo Ah nodded firmly, already loving the idea.

Well, chestnut brown was a generic colour. It did suit most of the skintones so it wouldn't be risky to try that.

I headed to the rotating chair in front of the large mirror and looked at my face. My cheeks were puffed up and I had bloated. Ugh.

Once I was seated, my hair was manhandled like a bitch.

But the end result of it was beyond my imagination. I looked like a completely different person. Well, not that different but definitely much more charming than before. It took me a good hour and a half, and my neck was ready to snap, but then when my hair was finally set, it was worth it.

He swept my hair in curly waves in layers and gave me bangs on my forehead that I could mess with. And the chestnut brown-red only made my face pop out even more. The colour made me look sharper and more demanding. The waves only accentuated the shape of my face.

I couldn't believe I hadn't tried this already with all the time I had.

"You can just put it up in a ponytail and the bangs will make it look perfect." The guy pulled my hair behind to show me how it would look and I nodded, satisfied.

"You look so good, Haerin!" Bo Ah grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in for a kiss on the cheek. "This is perfect. I feel like I should try something out too!"

"Yeah, you should. It feels amazing...!" I growled.

Bo Ah decided to get trimmed and get her bangs redone too. And by the time I had stepped out of the salon, I felt like I had the potential to change.

Was this something about women's chemical engineering that made hair matter this much?

I wasn't sure if I was heading anywhere with this, but at least if I ever met Jong Suk again, I'd look too expensive for him to afford. And honestly? That was enough for me.