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Another Monday. Another boring day at work.

This isn't fair. Why couldn't I have been born as a slug?

I snort in laughter at my thought and someone seated in the lobby gives me a weird look.

"Slug," I say as an explanation and the man narrows his eyes and frowns before standing up and getting into the elevator, which is weird since he was supposed to wait here for someone to come get him.

I guess he wanted to get away from the weird receptionist laughing to herself and mumbling about slugs.

My cell phone rings and I glance at the caller ID before groaning.

I'm not supposed to answer personal calls while I'm at work, but I figured he could be hanging upside down from a flagpole somewhere, so I'd better answer.

"Yes?" I ask.

"You need to help me. I'm in deep, deep trouble," Namjoon says frantically, nearly hyperventilating.

"Whoa, dimples. Calm down. Tell me where you are," I say slowly.

"The local college," he explains and I frown in confusion.

"You go to college?" I ask.

"No. Why would you ask me that?" He asks.

I take a deep breath to keep from throwing my phone out the nearest window. "Then why are you at the college?"

"It's hot dog day in the cafeteria," he explains as if that's a normal reason to be at a college he doesn't go to.

"You go to the college every Monday just to eat the cafeteria's hot dogs?" I ask incredulously.

"They're really good," he says.

"So why do you need my help again?"

"Oh, crap! I nearly forgot why I called you," he says. "I was getting my hot dog as usual, and when I come here I wear smart people clothes so they think I'm one of them. And suddenly, someone comes up to me thinking I'm some big businessman that's supposed to be giving a business class a business speech about business!"

"Stop saying 'business' over and over again. I get it," I say. "Just tell them you're not who they think you are."

"I don't want to hurt their feelings," Namjoon huffs out.

"So you're just going to give a speech about business even though you know nothing about it?" I ask.

"Well, that's why I called you. So you can rescue me," he says in a whiny voice. "Please, Isla."

I let out an audible groan and lean back in my office chair. "I'm at work, you know."

"I know. But this is life or death," he says dramatically.

"No, it's really not. But fine, I'll come get you. Where are you in the building?" I ask.

"I'm in the hallway," he says.

"Namjoon," I say as calmly as I can manage.

"Yes?"

"You do realize that there are like, a hundred different hallways in a college, right?"

"Oh. Well, I'm in the one with all of the different classrooms on both sides," he says.

"I... I'm lost for words," I say, facepalming.

"Not sure what that has to do with anything, but whatever," Namjoon replies. "Hey, when you come, can you bring me a hot dog? I never got to get one."

"Whatever. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Stay put and do not give those poor students a speech or you'll melt their brains," I say as I stand up from my chair.

After telling my boss that I'm taking my lunch break, I make my way to the local college and I ask around for the business department. A few minutes later, I find the correct classroom that is supposed to be having a guest speaker today, and to my dismay, I don't see Namjoon standing in the hallway like he was supposed to be.

I peek in through the window of the door at the back of the classroom and internally groan.

There is Namjoon, standing in the front of the class wearing a sweater vest and slacks, with fake plastic glasses perched on his face. He's talking animatedly, swinging his hands around in every direction while he speaks.

I slowly open the door and slip inside, finding an empty chair to sit in at the back.

When I sit down next to a student, she looks over at me with a confused look on her face.

"You didn't miss much," she says and I realize she must think that I'm a student. "This guy has just been talking about... um, well, I'm not too sure."

I grimace and turn my attention to my friend at the front of the classroom and prepare myself for whatever I'm about to hear.

"As I was saying, business is very... businessy. Lots of paper and pens and suits. Also, in business, you must carry a briefcase with you to keep your snacks in so the other business people don't eat them," he says in a booming, confident voice even though I can tell he is about to pee his pants.

"I shall answer some questions now in this moment," he says, folding his arms across his chest and I bite my lip to stifle a laugh.

A few students raise their hands and Namjoon's eyes light up, as if he thinks that they believe he's actually a businessman.

"Yes, you," he says, pointing to a woman.

"What degree do you have in business...?" She asks.

"Ah. Good question. Great question, actually. I have the biggest degree in business," he says, nodding his head solemnly. "Next question?"

A couple of people are giggling at this point, but most students are probably thinking this is some kind of test to see how professional they can stay when a crazy person tries to do business with them.

Namjoon points to a man seated in the front row. "Ask your question, young grasshopper."

"Oh, dear god..." I whisper in horror.

"Um... okay. Are you sure you're actually working in the business field? You don't sound very experienced," he says quietly.

"Are you sure you should be wearing your hair like that? You look like a slug," Namjoon snaps and I snort in laughter.

What is it with me and slugs today?

Namjoon hears me laugh and looks up, locking his gaze on mine and I see him visibly relax.

"You there, cutie pie in the back row. You seem to be choking on something," he says, widening his eyes to get me to understand that he's trying to get me to be a distraction.

I roll my eyes before deciding to play along.

I start coughing and holding my throat dramatically before falling into the floor.

"Oh my goodness!" The girl that was sitting next to me yelps and she jumps from her seat to help me.

"Go away," I whisper, smacking at her outstretched hands.

She looks at me in confusion right as Namjoon reaches me and he scoops me up in his arms before yelling, "I'll save her!"

He runs out of the classroom and jogs out of the business department before setting me down on the sidewalk.

"Where's my hot dog?" He asks, reaching into my jacket pockets to see if I have, for some reason, hidden a hot dog in my pocket.

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