Touch Of The Poor

②Are You Even Listening?

 
"Hello," Taehyung uttered once he stood in front of the reception, his heart raging in his chest. "Delivery from Jjang cafe-restaurant?" His tone was rather faltering, something that made the girl behind the counter chuckle.

"New delivery boy?"

"Um, yes," he murmured as he placed the one bag on the counter, and she gave him the money.

"Well, don't keep Mr. Jeon waiting. His office is on the eighth floor, second door to the right," she said with her perky voice and a bright smile.

"Thank you." Taehyung returned the smile and strode to the elevator. He waited until it arrived and gaped as a bunch of people got off. Why the hell is this so big? He forced out his shock and slipped inside, pressing the eighth floor.

He was awfully tense just by being there; he didn't fit in that place in any way. All these neat, wealthy people he encountered made him feel small, and honestly? Cheap. Very, very cheap.

His steps were shaky and tentative as he got out and shuffled towards the right. He stood in front of a door a few moments later, but when he took a closer look, his jaw went slack once again. While the other doors were normal, this particular one was ridiculously fancy, with a sign made of gold that read 'CEO - Jeon Jeongguk'.

He rolled his eyes insensibly as he raised his quaky hand and knocked three times. He heard a faint 'come in' from inside and slid the door open. "Delivery from Jjang—"

"Who are you?" the CEO snarled and pitched forward the moment he saw the unfamiliar boy instead of Jihoon, sitting on the edge of his seat, foot tapping against the floor and a scowl adorning his traits.

Taehyung hadn't met his gaze yet, and upon hearing his vicious tone, he tucked his chin deeper into his chest. "Um, I'm n-new—"

"You got a speaking problem or what? I asked a simple question." He jerked up and slammed his hands against the desk, menaces radiating from his eyes.

"Taehyung. I'm new. Here's your order." He walked past the small living room and set the package on his desk.

"Where's the midget?"

"If you mean Jihoon, he quit."

Jeongguk groaned as he ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "Great, another useless little boy I have to teach how to do his job well," he ground out the words through clenched teeth. "Never be late. Never enter without me saying come in. Never place the food on this desk," he hissed at last, a low rumble coating his voice that caused Taehyung to panic and take hold of the package right away. "Put it there." He pointed at the glass table behind him.

He spun around and left the package on the table before he recoiled, clutching his hands together and keeping his daunted eyes glued to the floor.

"Don't enter this company with your helmet and mask on. It doesn't look good and it doesn't fit my aesthetics."

Who cares about your aesthetics, you shithead? His desire to vocalize that was tremendous — he wouldn't lie — but he dreaded to think what would happen if he did.

"—in a meeting when you come, you wait for me—are you even listening?"

"Yes. Can you pay me so I can leave now?"

"I just said don't talk unless I ask you something. I'm asking, I'm talking, not you."

"Too many rules for a simple delivery," Taehyung found himself murmuring under his breath. And if he had glanced at the CEO at that moment, he would easily discern the death glare he just shot him.