Team Leader Heo Seungju stood there in a daze.
With a look as if his soul had left him, he felt a sense of powerlessness from deep within his bones, from the depths of his heart. His head was empty, as if blocking out any further stress. Then suddenly, a thought emerged from somewhere in his unconscious.
I want to quit.
He let out a long, deep sigh that welled up from his heart, from deep within his stomach. It was for his soul that had just been thoroughly wrung out during lunch with the Director.
The Director was sensitive these days. Because his neck was on the line. Is it my fault your neck is about to fly off? Of course it’s your fault. Maybe you should’ve lived more properly. Words he couldn’t spit out kept circling inside his throat. Instead, Seungju just went along with it.
However, even for someone well-trained in listening to their superior’s nonsense with one ear and letting it out the other, enduring an hour and a half of next-level bullshit and nitpicking that gently scraped away at one’s self-esteem was difficult. Unable to bear it any longer, the conclusion Seungju reached was somewhat close to a mental victory.
Right, at least this incompetent bastard has the talent for tearing people down. With that kind of talent, he won’t starve to death wherever he goes.
At least it was fortunate that the Director said he was stopping by the café in the basement and told Seungju to go up to the office first. Seungju hated the Director. He hated every single minute and second spent with him. Just the fact that he could take a separate elevator made him a little happy. Of course, he couldn’t even be that happy. He didn’t have the energy for it.
Covering his face with both hands, he sighed again. This sigh was a ritual to return to all the work piled up on his desk.
Ah… I want to quit.
He heard the bell sound announcing the elevator’s arrival. Seungju rubbed his eyes once and lowered his hands. When the door opened, he was just wearing a slightly tired expression, his previously vacant face now hidden behind an expressionless mask.
Inside the elevator stood a man in a suit. Seungju’s heart dropped as he moved his feet. Separate from his surprise, his body reacted as five years of working life had taught him. He reflexively bowed his head and greeted the man.
“Hello.”
“Yes, hello.”
The man who looked exactly like an idol had a wonderful voice too. As he raised his head, Seungju’s brain instantly processed the information entering his eyes in sequence. The perfectly fitted suit was luxurious and neat. The tie color was tasteful too.
He had to raise his head quite a bit to see his face. Up close, he looked even taller. A slender jaw, clean skin, large eyes, neat hair.
Today too, visual—pass, pass.
Seungju’s and the man’s eyes met. He blinked once and smiled slightly.
Ah, wait. Don’t smile. It hurts my heart.
Seungju smiled back at him and then turned his body to face the door. It was just a weak smile since his tired look hadn’t fully disappeared, but still, Seungju did his best in his own way.
The 11th floor button on the elevator coming up from the basement was lit. When Seungju pressed the 13th floor button, the door soon closed.
That man, Sales Team General Manager Section Chief Baek Muyeon, was called Section Chief Mu by everyone in the company. That was a nickname given to him by the Sales Team people. It was a much easier and simpler nickname than the authoritative job title of Sales Team General Manager or the materialistic and direct title of the president’s youngest son. Of course, Section Chief Baek Muyeon probably didn’t know he was being called Section Chief Mu.
So, the reason his throat kept getting dry and his lips kept parching in front of this man was because he was the president’s son. My experience isn’t enough yet to not be intimidated in front of the president’s son. I’m just the youngest team leader who’s only held the position for three months.
This was like a mantra Seungju recited every time he ran into Section Chief Mu. The mantra began on the day Section Chief Mu joined the company, when the president went around the entire office showing him off with his arm around him.
Section Chief Mu probably didn’t know that he had struck the heart of poor face-obsessed Seungju that day. Seungju, whose most frequently seen face all day was the pot-bellied Director’s face, was powerless. He had no choice but to fall for the man who looked exactly like his type among all the people he’d seen from birth until now.
The expression “fall for” was funny. Because Section Chief Mu hadn’t done anything to make Seungju fall for him. Section Chief Mu just existed handsomely as the son of this company’s president. Well, if he had to say, he could credit walking into this company as something Section Chief Mu had done. But what good is being handsome? He’s pie in the sky. Section Chief Mu was handsome, tall, had a good family, and even good academic credentials. And preceding all those conditions was the absolute position of being the president’s son.
In other words, he was a person from a different world than Seungju. A different world from where Seungju lived, unable to die so he went to work every day, dreaming of winning the lottery and quitting.
Right, at least we’re in the same company so we exchange words.
At the bitter conclusion, Seungju clicked his tongue with a “tsk” and then startled himself. What would the president’s son think this sound meant?
He heard a throat-clearing sound from behind him. Section Chief Mu did not betray Seungju’s premonition.
“You’re from the Planning Division, right?”
Seungju turned his head. Hoping his expression was intact. It would be fine. He suffered from an affliction where his complexion darkened like a chronic fatigue patient as soon as he entered the company building. Any nervousness or anxiety could be sufficiently diluted by the layer of skepticism covering his face.
Seungju’s eyes met Section Chief Mu’s eyes. Making his earlier hope futile, Seungju’s heart reacted first. Thump.
Fortunately, Seungju’s consciousness had the ability to respond somehow whether his heart beat on its own or the president’s son suddenly spoke to him. This was thanks to being trained by the Director who called Seungju at all hours to spout nonsense.
“Yes, hello. I’m Heo Seungju, Team Leader of Planning Team 6.”
“So you’re a team leader. I see you occasionally but didn’t know your name.”
And then Section Chief Mu smiled. His plump lips that had been slightly parted closed as he grinned broadly. His slightly rising cheekbones were perfect. What, why do you keep smiling. Unsettlingly. When you smile, you seem nice.
“Ah, yes. I don’t have much interaction with the Sales Team. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Pardon?”
“Not having interaction with the Sales Team isn’t something to be sorry about.”
Section Chief Mu’s voice was gentle. The content was also correct.
This time, Seungju couldn’t help but show his flustered state. The reason was complex. Seungju felt embarrassed, as if caught in his servile behavior of bowing down in advance out of feeling honored that the president’s son greeted him first, and that he had bothered to ask and confirm Heo Seungju’s existence.
The other reason was because of Section Chief Mu’s words themselves. Just as he’d said, the interaction between Seungju and the Sales Team wasn’t very frequent, but it wasn’t nonexistent either. Through some acquaintance, Seungju knew that Section Chief Mu was a pretty decent superior. But actually hearing sensible words come out of ‘that’ president’s son’s mouth, he couldn’t help but be flustered.
Lastly, even if they were sensible words, hearing such direct statements in a company was rare. So Seungju had no way not to be flustered.
While Seungju was spacing out, Muyeon smiled again. Seungju’s heart, regardless of whether his head was flustered or not, set off the emergency alarm again. Experiencing reason and emotion operating separately wasn’t unfamiliar, of course. That was an everyday occurrence that happened every other day at this company. But the fact that the emotion came from nervousness due to excitement rather than anger wasn’t familiar. So Seungju blamed Section Chief Mu. Hey, I said don’t smile, seriously. If you’re handsome and kind on top of that, it’s a big problem. It makes me more nervous. Once again, Seungju’s sociability, which was good at operating separately, went to work.
“Haha, haha… It’s just a habit of mine. Thank you, I’m sorry, that sort of thing.”
“Ah, I see.”
Section Chief Mu blinked and then laughed along with Seungju’s laughter. Only then did Seungju’s reason, which had been making a chaotic fuss, finally find an answer. Right, he must be someone who smiles well originally. That must be it.
The elevator’s announcement overlapped with the end of Seungju’s laughter. This is the 11th floor. Section Chief Mu tilted his head slightly and moved his feet.
“Have a nice afternoon.”
“Yes, thank you.”
At the words Seungju unconsciously added, Section Chief Mu ended up giggling out loud. It was regrettable that he couldn’t see his expression since he was already stepping out of the elevator. To wish he wouldn’t smile until just now, then regret missing his smiling face—it’s serious.
And in the fleeting moment Section Chief Mu passed by, there was a nice fragrance.
After the elevator door closed, Seungju took a deep breath. Instead of sighing like before, as if gathering the energy to work again.
Anyway, today too, pass, pass. Perfect from head to toe. Even excluding the fraudulent spec of being the president’s son, everything was perfect—the handsome face and wonderful voice, the confident attitude and affable smile, even the clear-cut sensible way of speaking. He’d be a free pass award recipient from documents to aptitude test, first and second interviews to executive interview. And he’s completed his entry report into my heart too.
Soon the elevator stopped again. This is the 13th floor.
The brief happiness existed only in the moment it took to go up and down two floors on the elevator.
When the door opened, the familiar hallway came into view. It was a scene that pulled him back to reality. With each step he took into the office, the sense of powerlessness and skepticism that had tormented him before getting on the elevator came flooding back.
