𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖳𝗈𝗈 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅 | 𝖢𝗁𝗈𝗂 𝖡𝖾𝗈𝗆𝗀𝗒𝗎

𝗏𝗂𝗂. 𝖱𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖬𝖾

Choi Beomgyu.

24th of May.

I've been receiving photographs from Y/N ever since. I gave her one of my cameras for her to use and the look on her face as she received it with her trembling hands was priceless. I simply couldn't ask for more.

Two months had passed. Being La Paris' editor-in-chief was exhausting. Sure, they did give me a fair raise and I was able to step on a higher pedestal. But then I found myself slacking off. Oftentimes, I would just sit on my swivel chair and do nothing. I felt tired. As in tired tired. It took a toll on me. However, I couldn't just barge in to Mr. Cho's office and drop the deal. I must persevere.

"It's fine," I'd habitually murmur. "Summer's just around the corner anyway. You've got this, Beomgyu."

Ping!

I picked up my phone to view a message. It was Y/N. She had sent me a picture of a tin can filled with sugar cookies.

"Grandma baked some for you," I read with a chuckle. "Come get your share before I do."

I heavily sighed.

Buzz..

Buzz..

The image disappeared as an incoming call took over the screen; it had Kevin's name on the register. With a dreadful frown, I answered.

"Yes?"

"We got a problem."

I rubbed my forehead. "Go ahead."

"Shut up, Reese- yes, I'm talking to him right now, shit. Hello? Beomgyu? Right, so remember the digital posters? Mr. Cho wants you to redo the layout."

"Why?"

"He thinks it's ugly."

"Excuse me?!"

"Piggy was chortling even, can you believe him? Motherfucker's got the audacity."

"How dare h-" I paused. "Fine, whatever. Pass me the files so I could get to work."

"I'm sorry, man."

"Hurry. I don't have all day."

I abruptly ended the conversation. I lied. I just wanted to get things done as soon as possible. I needed rest.

Ping!

Y/N sent me another picture. This time, it was her. She was holding a tray of biscuits in one hand. I absently smiled.

"Fighting!" Was all she said.

She knew I was drowning in responsibilities. She knew I was struggling. She knew just what to do to make me feel better. God, I love her. Her sole persistence touched me. I wish I could do the same.

"Thank you, Y/N." I mumbled.

***