Unspoken - 2jae

02

"Good morning, Mr. Im!", piped the young woman behind the desk as Jaebum entered the building. 

Good morning, Cassie. Your hair's looking worse than it usually does but keep doing what you're doing, he wanted to say. But of course he didn't. He gave her a grin and nodded his head slightly. 

"Sir, I've made you your coffee. I'll bring it in when you want it.", another employee greeted him. 

Being fake-nice to me isn't gonna get you that raise, Eric. Again, another thought unspoken. 

He had finally reached his mom's office door after having passed by more people who were never genuine to him but only wanted his attention for the sake of their jobs. Jaebum knocked quietly before a womanly voice told him to enter. 

"'Kay, I'm here.", he sighed heavily as he plopped himself on the office sofa, earning a scowl from his mom. 

"You do know that you're almost an hour late, right?", she said, eyebrows furrowing. Jaebum checked his watch which indicated that she was correct. 

"Well I'm here, now.", he shrugged. She rolled her eyes before standing from behind her desk to the chair across him.

That's him, she thought. My son in a suit but seated down like a teenager with his legs sprawled out and arms resting on his knees. My son whose hands I'm about to place everything into.

"I've something I need to ask you to do."

~

To say his bike hurt his groin would be an understatement. Youngjae was in a struggle getting to work on his bicycle when his side bag was constantly hitting his right thigh each time he peddled. They all shared one car, he, his mom and brother -- although Manse couldn't drive yet but he would also share when the time came. His mother drove the only one they had to work as she did each day, letting her eldest ride a bike.

He loved music, and anything and everything that had to do with it. He studied and worked his ass off as a teenager to be able to pay off student loans and get into a college music program. He worked different part time jobs as a bartender, secretary, and even walked dogs whenever he had the time. 

When he finally reached the studio he worked for, he locked his bike into the rack and straightened himself before proceeding inside. On the second floor was Hanmin, a forty year-old man whom Youngjae worked for and saw as a father figure. He allowed him to listen to the songs and compositions he worked on. 

Youngjae hoped to someday become somewhat like Hanmin, who also loved music and gave young artists chances to fulfill their wishes and allow their ideas and voices to be heard. And at that moment, he sat next to the older man as they both wrote lyrics to a new song for a fellow artist. 

~

"I'm not doing it!", Jaebum's voice boomed throughout the building and was sure to scare away any birds hanging around on the rooftop. His mother had just told him about a certain woman from a separate corporation who was said to be very diligent, and hardworking. His mother had wanted her to join theirs but she apparently wasn't stable enough. 

"Just think of what this could do for us.", she reasoned. 

"What does me marrying into this family have anything to do with how she'll perform here?!", the male yelled, eyebrows furrowing. He paced back and forth the office floor, constantly running his hands across the skin of his jaw. 

His mother sighed heavily, rubbing her palms together and taking a seat. She felt a headache coming on and was in no mood to have her son angered. 

"We need this woman. She needs money. If we can't find a way to keep her, some other company will take her.", she had quieted down when saying this, as if to finally put an end to all the yelling and actually making sense of the situation. 

Jaebum bit his tongue and stared her down a while. How desperate are we becoming?

"You mean...lock her in?"

As much as she wanted to deny it, that was exactly what his mother meant. Having her son marry into this family would assure that she stays as she is. Plus, whatever Jaebum makes goes to them as well.

"I still don't wanna marry an old hag --"

"Im Jaebum, you're not marrying her. You're marrying her son."

...

"H-Her son?!"