sleepless cinderella ☆ ten | ✔

02

Chewing on the inside of your cheek in anticipation, you double-checked the address Professor Zhang had given you. Sure, you were twenty minutes early, so there was really no reason for you to be worrying quite yet. You were seated at a high-top of a little café. It was just a few blocks from Gleneagles, which you were guessing was why Dr. Li had chosen it, he must be meeting you before, after, or between shifts. Ever since you'd left your apartment, you'd been mentally rehearsing what you would say to him: how you would introduce yourself, thank him for doing the interview with you, everything.

In front of you was the water you had ordered almost fifteen minutes ago, sweating profusely and about a third of the way gone. Your fingertips messed with the edges of your notebook, pencil tucked behind your ear. Beside the notebook was a small device, your voice recorder that you'd been gifted by your grandmother when you first went off to college. You hadn't used it much, but it seemed only proper that you brought it now.

Movement from the entrance caught your eye. You'd sat just where you could see the door, glancing up at every newcomer to see if it was your subject.

This time, to your surprise, it was a familiar face, sharply changing course as soon as he spotted you; broad, heart-stopping grin greeting you with equally bright eyes.

"Hey, Y/N!" Ten approached your table.

"Oh, hey Ten," you took in the white coat draping his shoulders. "Did you just get off work?"

"Nope, lunch break," he confidently sat in the seat across from you.

Shifting nervously, you kept glancing over at the door, "I'm sorry Ten, but I'm waiting for someone right now, it's really important."

"Oh really? Who are you waiting for?"

"I've been offered an interview for my final article. You know, the one that will pretty much determine my entire career," you emphasized the importance of it, slowly losing your patience with the man. "Which is why you really need to leave before he gets here—"

"It's going to determine your entire career?"

"Yes, so please—"

"Guess I've got to do well then, huh?"

Finally, your eyes stayed focused on him for longer than a second, stopping their constant, anxious flitting back and forth between Ten and the door.

"What?"

Ten had a smug grin across his face as he leaned back in the chair comfortably, "If your whole career rests on this interview, I've got to make it a good one then."

It finally struck you, and with a heavy sigh, you surmised, "You're Dr. Li Yongqin?"

"In the flesh," he confirmed with a deep smirk and by unclipping his badge from his coat to bring it closer for you to be able to read the name. 'Dr Li Yongqin' was printed clearly across it. And Dr. Li Yongqin seemed absolutely delighted at the short run-around he'd given you.

"Li Yongqin is your real name, then?"

"Nope, it's Ten."

"What?"

"I was—" He got cut off by the waiter coming to your table to take your orders.

After the waiter left, you gestured for Ten to wait before continuing his explanation, taking a quick moment to turn your voice recorder on and bring your pencil out of your hair.

"Okay, go on."

"I was born in Thailand, but my family is Chinese, so I have three names. Well actually, four."

This guy was sounding more interesting by the minute.

"And what are they?"

"Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul is my birth name,"

You weren't even going to try to spell that in the moment, writing a note to ask for the spelling from him later.

"But in Thai culture you're also given a nickname and that's what everyone calls you— mine is Ten,"

So far it made sense, you'd met him around his friends, in a comfortable scenario, of course he'd be called his preferred nickname there.

"My Chinese name is Li Yongqin, the one given to your professor,"

At this, your eyes flashed up to him, hopefully conveying your annoyance at being deceived.

"And I have a Korean name too, from when I studied there during medical school, Lee Younghuem."

This man really did have four names. And studied in Korea, you made another note to ask him about his experiences there.

You questioned, "So what am I supposed to call you, then?"

"Ten is just fine."

"What do your patients call you? It can't be Dr. Ten, right?"

He chuckled lightly at the idea of that, "No, I'm Dr. Li to them."

"Then shouldn't I call you Dr. Li as well?"

"Am I performing surgery on you?"

"This is a professional setting."

"Is it?"

He was clearly enjoying your back and forth over the matter.

You held back the very intense urge to roll your eyes at the man, "Why did you ask that I interview you?"

"Is that a normal interview question?"

Setting your pencil and notepad down, you also turned your voice recorder off. Ten's eyebrows shot up at this.

"I have a right to know," you declared.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because you've already rigged a raffle to interact with me because you thought I was pretty or something, I'm wondering if you rigged this because of that too."

"Nope," he shook his head resolutely. "You'd mentioned you were a journalism student, I did a cursory Google search and found the stuff you've published in your school's journal. It's genuinely good. I never knew Thomas Edison was such a bastard."

His mention of your article on Thomas Edison brought credibility to his story, softening your suspicions as he continued, "I 'rigged' this because of your skills, not your looks. But I am glad that you acknowledge that you're pretty."

Satisfied with his answer, you nodded in acknowledgement before addressing his last sentence, "Really professional, Dr. Li."

"You brought it up first, Ms. Y/L/N."

He was right, but you weren't about to admit that. Taking in your exasperation, he shifted to sit forward in his seat, resting his forearms on the table, hands clasped together in a very business-like manner.

"Alright, alright," he relented. "I'll be professional, if you call me Ten."

You stuck a hand out towards him, "Shake on it."

Ten grasped your hand, giving it one firm shake before leaning back in his seat again, "Okay, so what's your first question for me?"