Ju Jae Kyung

The morning began with a thunderstorm. The office door slammed into the wall, and Ju Jae-kyung's voice struck my ears: — What the hell is my phone doing?! Who approved this interview?

• This is the sponsor, Jae Kyung, refusal would cost us... "I don't care!" He threw his bag on the table, scattering my papers. "Are you here to nod at everything?" I silently sat down to gather the documents, hiding my trembling fingers. His gaze caught on the bouquet on the edge of the table. "Seriously? Fan gifts in the office?" He tossed the flowers into the basket. "I don't want that trash here." I kept quiet about the fact that it was a gift from colleagues for my twenty-fourth birthday. “Okay,” I replied. The day turned into hell. The tasks kept pouring in, I didn't even eat. And in the evening, he just threw the folder at me: — So that everything is ready in the morning. At home, Jae-kyung was scrolling through Instagram and froze. A colleague's story: me smiling, surrounded by coworkers, holding that very bouquet. The caption: "Happy birthday to our savior! Thank you for putting up with a champion. " He cursed, jumping up from the sofa. An hour later, he was standing at my door. Seeing me in my clothes, he thrust a huge bouquet into my hands, trying to hide his embarrassment behind his usual rudeness. "Happy birthday," he muttered. "This is... for the trash I threw out this morning." He hovered on the threshold, unsure what to do with his hands. Finally, he clicked his tongue irritably, demanding attention: — Well? Are you just going to stand there and stare? Or are you going to invite me in?