imin was a nerd.
He’d always had been.
With thick prescription lenses, short stature, and soft-spoken nature, it was beyond easy to target him. High school had been hell, in fact the defining moment might be getting restrained by two seniors as a freshman as his entire class took turns pouring chocolate milk boxes over his head in the cafeteria and after being forced to walk around sticky and miserable all day. Then again, there was also that time when his vicious bully had discovered the lem of Jimin’s panties. As a prank, they’d tied him with his pants around his ankles, panties exposed, to the football points post overnight.
But that was high school and this was now.
Several years later. Jimin was a junior accountant for a big company. He wore ties and dress shirts, wore contacts instead of glasses, rode the train, had a briefcase: an adult. Unfortunately, when Jimin’s company expanded and he was transferred to the larger building, he did not realize just how things would remain the same.
On that sunny winter afternoon, Park Jimin should have realized his life was about to take a drastic turn when not one but both elevators were out of service. His cubicle was on the fortieth floor.
Sweaty and slightly disheveled, Jimin arrived at his office, placed his desk box down and dragged himself over to the water cooler.
He grabbed a plastic cup, filled it to the brim, and downed it quickly. The moment he finished, Jimin filled his cup once again. So absorbed was he in quenching his thirst, that Jimin didn’t feel the shadow fall over him or the presence of someone else until that someone was standing so close, that their chest was brushing over the back of his head. Jimin startled with a squeak, turning around and stumbling backwards only to discover there was nowhere back to stumble. He was cornered, stuck between the cooler and this stranger. Jimin blinked owlishly up at whoever it was, the hair on the back of his arms already standing on end. The man was tall, chest and shoulder broad, with a handsome, dark features and very black eyes. It wasn’t his looks, however, that caught Jimin’s attention.
He was staring down at Jimin, popping the cinnamon flavored gum in his mouth. Jimin could smell it due to their proximity, it was spicy and uncomfortably warm. Immediately, Jimin dropped his gaze, shoulders rising to his ears in his discomfort. “Um, e-excuse me,” he tried, beginning to edge around the stranger, “I r-really need to get back to my desk.” His voice came out high pitched and wavered with anxiety. The larger watched Jimin, an amused smile flicking the edge of his lips before disappearing altogether.
He didn’t budge except to observe as Jimin had to go out of his way to escape.
Once free, Jimin practically sprinted for his desk. He sat, eyes wide, heart battering against his ribcage.
What on earth just happened?! If appearance was anything to go on, that man looked more like a gangster than accountant. Jimin shivered. I am here to focus on work , he reminded himself, the rest is irrelevant and if that guy bothers me again, I’ll just report him .
“Yes,” he whispered out loud, tiny fists clenched.
He got to work.
A few hours later, Jimin’s bladder grew uncomfortably full. He stood, eyes scanning over the sea of cubicles to see if he might spot his harasser from earlier. It was impossible to find him in the maze of grey boxes. Then again , Jimin wondered, he might not even be from this floor .
