𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖳𝗈𝗈 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅 | 𝖢𝗁𝗈𝗂 𝖡𝖾𝗈𝗆𝗀𝗒𝗎

𝗏𝗂. 𝖨𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖯𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁

16th of March.

"Beomgyu, I'll never forget this. Thank you."

Her words played in my mind like a broken record. It's been a week since we started off as best friends, yet here I am, still in disbelief. Of all people, it had to be Y/N— the sweetest, most caring, and beautiful human being to ever exist.

God, I don't deserve her.

I rummaged through a thick pile of paperwork. Another day, same duty. As I sat my ass on the swivel chair, managing files and editing pictures for the new magazine, I silently prayed for time to tick fast. I couldn't wait to drive down Cornelia Street to see Y/N. She hasn't seen me in three days. As much as I wanted to ring her mobile, I couldn't due to my hectic schedule.

I hope she's okay.

"Beomgyu?" A co-worker tapped my back. "You good there?"

"Yes, Reese." I weakly smiled. "May I help you?"

"No, no. Kevin just wanted to hand these out to you. Think you could finish them tomorrow night?"

I stared at the chunky envelope in front of me. I felt my heart hit rock bottom. Dismayed but still eager, I subtly nodded. Reese sighed in relief and muttered a small "thanks" before scurrying away. I leaned against my seat, exhaustion evident in my handsome face. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. God, I haven't slept for hours.

"Man?" Kevin's voice called.

I raised a brow. "'Sup?"

"Mr. Cho wants to see you in his office."

"For what reasons?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Best hurry though."

I was about to rant about the envelope he gave me when he immediately waddled off. Although I felt burdened, I hoisted myself up and smoothed my shirt. The soles of my feet brought me to our boss's lair. I knocked on the door, brushing the bangs off my forehead before hearing a muffled "come in". The hard mahogany gave an eerie squeak as I entered. As usual, it smelled like black licorice and wine. Mr. Cho, a 54-year old, flabby man greeted me. He was smoking a fat cigar, ashes falling on his velvety suit.

"Ah, you're here." He chuckled. "Sit down, Choi. I just need to have a quick word with my favorite photojournalist, alright?"

"Sure."

"Great. Our company just got a call from La Paris. They wanted us to produce catalogues for their spring couture; ain't that neat, son?"

"That's great news." I agreed. "What a huge advantage."

"Exactly. Now, we don't want to mess this up. I want perfection. I want glamour. Sprinkle. Sparkle. You understand?"

I frowned. "Hold on, why are you telling me this?"

"Because you are going to supervise this shit, kid. Welcome to the world of business." Mr. Cho grinned. "You'll be deemed editor-in-chief for a month or two, depends on the contract. Plus, you'll get to have a raise. Sounds good?"

Me? Handling an important project? I couldn't believe my ears. I lowkey pinched my wrists to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Mr. Cho waited for my response, puffing smoke out of his mouth. Motivated and euphoric, I uttered a firm "yes".