10

They say lightning never strikes the same place twice.

They should have seen Jong Suk's mother electrocuting me at eight in the morning. Might have their opinions changed. Because this woman was throwing high-voltage shocks at me every time she saw me like it was some twisted cardio routine.

I swear I was only there for a cinnamon roll. Because that's what professional employees do. They eat their sweet cinnamon rolls, spiralling in the diabetic dose quietly in a corner before they start their slavery for the day.

All we had to do was ignore each other and walk out. That's it. Easy, right?

But no. She came in like a gangster ready to kill me on sight. Talked about how sorry she was that Jong Suk and I weren't together anymore. And I was like—yeah, right. But she also fucking said—and I quote—that she was 'relieved that this mess was out of the way now'.

Out of the way of what? My fucking funeral?

And I am Superman most of my days. But she tore my fucking cape and stabbed me in my butt with a kryptonite.

And I hated the way she still knew where to aim to make me mad. I hated it.

That hurt. That hurt more because I still wasn't over Jong Suk completely—mostly, but not fully. And she knew it. She had always known that I loved his son genuinely, which made it all the more cruel for her to say something like that to me.

And just like that, I felt like a piece of flesh had been cut off from me. That fresh feeling of having been abandoned to fend for myself? It returned. And all because of this wanky mother.

That witch left me sniffling in a corner of the pastry cabinets like I was due my taxes. Left me black-eyed with my mascara smeared behind the alley. I had to later fix that in the office washroom.

My morning sweet routine? Fucked up.

This day was definitely going to set fire to the rain. Sorry, Adele.

I didn't want to be a pessimist but damn Jong Suk's mom. She made me miserable, even with just a look. It made me feel like I was a tiny trot before a Godzilla auction.

"So, basically, this is like data sorting?" Mirae peered into the screen.

Oh right. I was back in his hellhole.

"Yes, for now." I leaned back in my seat. "Cinnamon roll?"

"Oh!" Mirae's eyes sparkled at the package. "I am on a diet, but I'm going to cheat like a man because I love this pastry shop!"

"I know, right?" I smiled. "Everyone goes to that place. Everyone." I sighed.

"I'm going to eat it at lunch." She said, neatly tucking the box beside her laptop.

"Sure." I nodded. "And, for now, I plan to make you do tasks that require investigation. It will build your knowledge of the system and its functions. I know it might be boring, but use the time you have while you have it."

"You said for now," Mirae added. "So, is there a task that I'm going to do after this?"

"Yes. I'm going to assess your work." I replied, turning my chair to face the screen. "But I hope you can pick the backlog tasks for the team. I need someone there."

"Backlogs?"

"Yes. Client tasks that have been pending for a long time due to internal issues." Mr Min interrupted. We both looked up at the same time.

Mirae whipped around, scooting up from her seat.

"Good afternoon, Sir—"

"Mr Min is fine, Mirae." He said and then glanced at me. "Is the afternoon good, Haerin?"

I was tempted to roll my eyes but I just shrugged. "It's coming in fine."

"And are you personally mentoring her?"

"Yes. I think she can help us in clearing the backlogs."

Mr Min nodded thoughtfully.

I saw a dreadful face peep up from behind him. Mr Han.

"Hello, Mr Min!" He reached to shake his hands and then glanced at Mirae and me. "And the pretty ladies." He smiled. Ew. "Mirae, you've got a good mentor here. She's excellent not only at her job but everything else too."

Okay. Strike one.

I glanced at Mr Min. His brow had furrowed slightly at that comment, confused. Because yes, he's so fucking smart every other time but now he's doorknob dumb. Now.

"Yes." I deadpanned. "Like, getting pastries. Cinnamon roll, Mr Han?" I said, passing the second box on my desk. I had planned to have that later. But yippie ki yay, I guess.

Get the cinnamon and roll, Mr Han. Quick.

"Cinnamon roll for me!" Jimin appeared, gliding the box towards himself. He looked at Mr Min and gave a short salute. "Mr Min. Mr Han. Pleasant morning, isn't it?"

"It's mid-day, Jimin," I muttered and a fake round of formal chuckles happened.

"Yes, Assistant Manager." He quipped, trying to be the funny one but failing. "Thanks for the roll. Mr Han, why don't we share this in the pantry?"

Mr Han hesitated, a little alarmed by the proposition. Jimin was quick to link his arms to his.

"Mr Park—that is too close." He tried to awkwardly laugh, untwisting himself from Jimin's death grip.

"Aw, come on, Mr Han." Hoseok peeped behind Jimin, casually looping an arm around his shoulder.

Why the hell was my desk turning into a stampede? I tried to breathe the air conditioner air but all I tasted was cheap male perfume.

Hoseok's eyes flashed at my desk. "Wow. Cinnamon rolls?"

Jimin's hand snapped at the box, "Leave them the fuc—"

"Language." Mr Min's voice sharpened.

I think I was dying from this vehement scent.

"Alright, you two." Mr Min pushed them forward. "Let's share them in the pantry."

"With Mr Han." Jimin declared.

"With Mr Han." Mr Min agreed and slowly trained their way out of our sight. I let out a frustrated breath only to taste more of their perfumes on my tongue.

I swear sometimes men didn't know what perfume to fucking wear. They always wanted to be all up in the face. There's something called subtlety, for goodness sake.

"Mr Han..."

I glanced at Mirae.

"He's kind of...flirty for an older man, isn't he?" She tilted her head thoughtfully. Her fingers tightened around the hem of her shirt.

"Did he say something to you?"

"Um..." Mirae scratched her head, hesitant, "...he's just—I don't know. Just trying to be young, I guess."

I ran my fingers through my hair, "Don't tolerate it. If he does something to discomfort you, let me know. Okay?"

"Alright." Mirae nodded, her brows finally unknotting.

----

Jungkook's mother was a seadragon. For someone so humbly concerned for her son, I was shocked to see a serpent at the reception. She had the classy loose skirt and top mom-fit, hair chopped into a boy-cut. So I knew that nothing was going to get in her hair—she didn't have any. Matter of fact, she might be the one getting in everyone's hair. High possibility. With her high nose and foxy eyes, a complete no. Every bit of the wrong energy I did not need on a Thursday morning.

When I arrived at the reception the next day, I saw the vision she was going for. In that hot pink two-piece suit and black pumps, she looked like she was screaming at me and I hadn't even talked to her yet. But this was Jungkook's problem. All I had to do was pretend like I didn't know he hated her. Easy.

I tapped my fresh lavender heels on the marble floors as I walked, making it to the reception. The two boys huddled together when they saw me, half amazed that I really came.

"Oh, hello!" I waved at them.

If I hadn't been a corporate slave, I would have been an actress. A good one at that.

"Mr Jeon has requested for some keys he left here?" I said casually enough for the fox to look at me.

"W—What?" One of the receptionists looked around, bamboozled by just that. The other one caught it, grabbed something random and shoved it towards me.

"Here."

I smiled.

"While you're at it, can you also take this lunch box for him, Miss..."

Oh no. They didn't know my name.

"Lunch box?"

"Yes." They said, our attention turning to her standing there with an awkward lilt. "Mrs Jeon is here to deliver."

Oh, she's delivering nothing but what I want her to.

"Hello." I smiled as pleasantly as I could. "I'm Kang Haerin. Would you like me to drop this to Mr Jeon?"

Her eyes raked me worse than Mr Han could have. Something short of a smirk made it to her lips, "Who are you?"

If this woman was a Pokèmon? Gyarados. The pink one.

My smile flattened. "Oh, Mr Jeon is in charge of my cybersecurity training. I was just about to go to his cabin."

"His cabin?" She scowled. "What kind of office is this where young women stroll into the private cabins of unmarried men?" She held her blue tiffin bag higher and put it on the reception desk.

Okay. Does she want us to go into private rooms of married men, then? What a crazy question!

I flexed my hand behind my skirt, cracking another smile, "Oh, it's just a training session. How about I take you there? I'm sure Mr Jeon would be delighted to see his mother."

She hated me, alright, but my idea, she did not. I felt like something stupid when she examined me, her chin rising higher to make sure I knew she was upper class. Well, lady, I'm about to send you higher than that if you don't stop looking at me like that.

"Can you...?"

"Of course! I don't think it should be a problem, right Mr...er..." I looked at the boys watching her like this was wrestling mania.

"Yeah." One of them said, uncertain. "I mean, there's nothing holding anyone back from doing that."

The other one coughed and turned his back on us.

I smiled at her, "Should I lead the way?"

"Hmph." She gathered her things, still all high and mighty as she began following me further down the corridors.

My heart was exploding. My plan worked. It wasn't that difficult. Mothers were tragically drawn to their sons. Especially mothers who couldn't get good love from their own husbands. And me, I was just making good use of this.

I was just about to show Jungkook how dangerous it was to clash with Kang Haerin. That's right. Me.

He was about to lose a few years of his life with this move. Plus, I could get some popcorn for this one.

I knocked on his door once—because I'm a lady—then I turned the handle and stepped inside. The office, as usual, was cold like we were on an icy slope. Jeon Jungkook loved to watch me shiver. He made sure that every second I spent in that cabin, I wanted to run. Well, nice try but I wasn't that stupid. I began wearing warm socks under my heels the very next day. The sound of my heels on the carpet made me feel like a villain. Dramatic—I know. Jungkook was calmly focused on the screen before him. His fingers typed relentlessly, probably drafting another one of his vicious emails.

"Mr Jeon," I turned towards the visitor's seat, out of the Gyarados's way. "Your mother is here."

His hands stopped. Eyes snapped up as if a ghost had been summoned into the room.

I settled into the seat, ready with my popcorn to make sure I didn't even miss a second of this.

"Mother." He stood up, rattling a few things on the desk. With two long strides, he walked around his desk and towards her. "What is the meaning of this?"

His mother closed her eyes and breathed as if to save her pride. When her eyes flicked open, she was softer. "I brought you lunch."

"And I told you not to." He snapped. He. Snapped.

His eyes twitched at me. He pinched the bridge of his nose, stepping behind and then sighed. Something about that made his mother look at me too. Suddenly, I was the centre of attention.

I straightened in my seat.

What the hell happened now? What did I do?

"And who is this?" She snarled, eyes searing through me. "Do you always bring girls like this in your office in the name of work?"

Of course. I relaxed a little because I had expected this much.

Jungkook let out a sigh, placing his hand on her tiny shoulder. Or maybe he had big hands. Whatever. "Mom. This is a professional space. People will visit my cabin."

I wish I could scoff at him but I had to keep my peace. I was in the audience. Not the character. The fun would be ruined if I changed roles.

"She sits like she owns the room. Is that normal too?" She looked at me again, an eyebrow raised. "Do girls like you don't have shame anymore to enter a man's private space and be so casual about it?"

Girls like you? Okay, Maroon 5.

I should have felt bad about it but I didn't. Was I fucking crazy? No.

I had seen this before. Jong Suk's mother always did this. It always left him speechless. I mean, what could he do in a situation like this? His mother was the wrong one. But as irrational as I was, I fought with him for not speaking up when I knew that he couldn't.

I folded my arms at my chest, looking away. Nothing in me wanted to be a part of this.

"Don't talk to her like that."

Huh?

My head shot up.

His face was cold, unreadable and resilient. He looked like a boulder for some reason in his dark vest.

"What?" Mrs Jeon scowled.

"Miss Kang is not the problem." He said. "You got me lunch? Put it on the desk and leave. Don't disrespect the one who brought you here."

"Are you really saying this, Jungkook?"

Plus one, Mrs Jeon!

My fists closed. I felt like I was a grain of rice he had stomped under his feet. My mouth parted, eyes meeting his.

"You know I wouldn't have let you enter had she not brought you in." He said.

Why was he saying all this in front of me? My body began feeling the heat, burning like I was on needles.

I gulped.

Mrs Jeon put the tiffin on the table, looking at him as if he had wronged her—which I think he definitely did. Why here? Why now? He could've said that after I left. Or not said it at all! Was he crazy?

"You're just like your father." She gave her final karate chop before spinning around and strutting away. She was on fire.

Jungkook pushed his fingers into his hair and then his eyes pinned on me. "Who told you to let her in?"

Wh—what? What fucking plot twist was this?!

My head turned to him so fast that I almost whiplashed. I blinked, getting more confused by the second. "What?"

"You heard me, Miss Kang." His hands pushed into the trouser pockets. Then his entire body turned to me, to give me the glare of the century. Dark, annoyed and somewhat repulsed by my invasion.

I blinked. My face still burned. I pressed my knees together and he spotted that movement too. "I thought she was your mother. I'm sorry, am I supposed to take your permission to open a door, Mr Jeon?"

"In my cabin? Yes." He bent forward slightly as if talking to a child.

Rapidash. I could feel the fire burning me alive.

"Sure. I will keep that in mind." I said through my teeth. "And I should also let you know that I didn't appreciate what you did there. I hope you remember that too."

He turned towards his desk, taking a slow step. "Do what?"

"Do you think I am not well equipped to defend myself? I am no damsel needing a saviour."  I clenched the fabric of the seat beside my thighs.

He head slowly turned to me, eyes wide, "Do you mean you didn't want me to defend you?"

"No. Why would you? I'm not a pitiful intern." I folded my arms across my chest. "I've seen worse. My best friend's cat slapped me once. I can take care of myself, Mr Jeon."

"Are you comparing my mother to a cat?" He scowled, undoing his wristwatch and putting it on the desk.

"A cat's worse than that." I snapped. "Don't change the subject. I'm not to be patronized."

"Patronised?" He scoffed, shocked. "You think I'm patronising you?"

My smile flattened. "Yes. What else could it have been? With all due respect, sir," I said sir like it was sour in my mouth. "Remember this."

"I see." He straightened, mouth parting with surprise. "You don't want protection. You want revenge."

"Yes. I want an equal opportunity for verbal combat."

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with something that was getting annoyed with me. "Fine. Next time you're called names, I'll bring a chair and popcorn."

I overlapped my legs, leaning back in the seat, "Bring a fan too. I need wind in the drama."

He tilted his head, cracking a smirk. "If you think this is what being patronising is, you haven't seen half of it, Miss Kang."

My face fell. I could feel the danger from miles away. And he was right in front of me. I already knew he was about to say something stupid.

"I'll show you exactly what patronising means." His jaw clenched, fingers messing with the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. His voice dropped when he looked at me. "This is a personal module for your training, Miss Kang."

"Is this a threat, Mr Jeon?"

He pressed his butt on his desk, crossing his shiny shoes. He was obviously enjoying this. Again. That evil bitchy smirk on his face was a clear indication. My glare grew darker beneath my lashes. I tapped the head of my shoes on the carpet, simmering on the stove that was him.

I wanted to kill him.

"It's a promise. A promise to make you understand."

Okay, Jeon Jungkook. This game was already meant for two.

I didn't see the harm in accepting this challenge.

"Get ready to be matronised, then." I forced a smile. Something about it was hilarious because he threw his head back and laughed.

"Matronised as in being shown motherly protection?" His brows jumped dramatically.

I waited and shifted in my seat. The focus of my glare could shoot lasers. I hated him so much right now it wasn't even sane.

"Matronised as in being reminded of your mother every time you breathe." I grinned.

He was dead meat. Dead fucking meat.