THE MANAGER NIM

12. CELESTIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

You watch your muddy shoes taking steps across the gleaming floor, with each step the lace flop in its random pattern. 

Memory runs farther back to a helmet head, your lip stretches into a thin smile when you think about him and his cute little dimples, which you couldn't see today, unfortunately. 

You have met several Greek gods and handsome lads in these past few days, but Namjoon loops around your mind, until there is no room for anything else. 

You walk unusually slow, like an old-man doggo trotting slowly towards it's master unwillingly. You are still not sure about what you're getting yourself into, the heaviness of the guilt, which is conceiving inside your heart for blaming your fate for all your consensual decisions, increases with your every step towards Bang PD's office. 

As you remember something, your footsteps halts midway and you turn to your left, facing the glossy glass walls ahead. You gaze at your outfit in the reflection. 

Your new pastel pantsuit's current state shatters your heart into pieces, at the moment in that brand new yet shabby outfit, you look like an important document which was crumpled to throw off but unfolded in a haste realizing what it is. 

You could still feel the dampness of your shirt inside Namjoon's leather jacket, which is hanging around your shoulder. 

You slowly take the leather jacket and the wet blazer off your shoulder unveiling the drenched ivory shirt. As you gaze back at your reflection in the glass, you notice how the drenched shirt is hugging your body and revealing your secret curves. 

In a flash, you abort the idea of entering inside the room without the blazer. When you proceed to wear it back, something tugs your attention. 

You've seen many girls in your class, in social media and in nutrition drink commercials complaining about their not so busty physique, all your life. Divergently, mother nature blessed you with a bosomy physique, but growing up in a typical orthodox Indian family with such physique was not something to consider as a blessing. 

Your mother and aunts taught you how to cover all your curves from head to toe in the so called ‘decent clothes’, since infancy and once your grandma almost taught you the 'mummification using a cloth process' in the name of traditional saree draping style. 

They taught you all these, just to save you from the society's slut shaming rituals and to make you the Indian tradition's torchbearer. 

In your whole life, you've neither felt proud about your body nor you've embraced your curves, for once. You've always used your not so favorite outfits as a cloak to hide your embarrassing body. 

But today, out of the blue you feel this spurring urge to inspect your physique in the reflection on the glass walls ahead you.

Forgetting the direction you headed towards and losing the track of the time, you continue to gaze at the reflection of your body cladded in marginally revealing clothes. 

"Am I fat? Is my body too embarrassing? Should I always conceal it from the world with those oversized clothes?...” You enquire your reflection while running your hand over it. 

"How can you say something so inappropriate about your divinely body, which is literally dripping with beauty. If you don't believe my words, take a look at the wet carpet beneath your legs." A deep male voice from nowhere sounds like a celestial announcement from the sky. 

But what kinda celestial announcement will mock you by comparing raindrops dripping from your outfit with beauty. 

Startled look in your eyes drops down in a swift and annoyance occupies it. 

"Who's that?" You ask monotonously, fuming with anger. 

"Umm...your future boyfriend!" The anonymous voice replies back, fairly dripped with sarcasm.

"Well, how can I even accept a guy who is not even manly enough to appear before me?" You reply back with enough irreverent sarcasm. 

"You wanna see me that badly sweety? Fair enough!" 

Promptly, the one way linen curtain behind the glass wall ahead of you, slowly hoists up in air revealing a triangle face man with a dashing personality and a cosmic smile.

He stands there with a devil-may-care outlook, but he really didn't care about the consequences of revealing his devastatingly handsome face. You stand there like a granite mold, your pupil narrows and seem to flee from the expanding whites of your eyes. 

Kim Taehyung, more like King Taehyung, BTS's main visual and vocalist. The proud winner of the world's most handsome man title. 

He has the kind of face that stops you in your tracks, he must have got used to this, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they look at his stellar, ethereal face. 

"How about now honey, manly enough for you to date?", He asks in a teasing tone. 

But you're not in a state to reply, you stand there in a stupefied state, trying to haul the soul which is close to bow out of your body. 

"If the answer is yes, then I might suggest you wear that blazer before you leave this spot. Well, I'm quite possessive you know." He moves his hands in air, gesturing your body curves, a devilish smirk tugs at his lips. 

In a blink of an eye you wear on your damp blazer back and completely envelope your body with it. 

"That's like a good girl! Should I take that as a yes then?" Seems like he is experiencing heavenly bliss in teasing you. 

"I need to meet Mr. Bang Si-Hyuk immediately, can you kindly tell me where his room is?" You ask politely. 

"Shi Hyuk hung? It is located on the 6th floor, but again why are you meeting him? Hul! Don't tell me he is your… " He stares right into your eyes with pure terror. 

"Aiiii! No! I'm the newly appointed manager of Mr. Jeon Jungkook and today is my first day at work" You explain hastily, not to worsen the situation more. 

"Holy Lord! So you're that hidden pokemon! Damn!!!" He literally squeals in surprise. 

Why do all of them react this way, it's just a manager job after all. There is clearly something very fishy in this whole thing. 

"Yeah and thanks! Nice to meet you, we will catch up later. Now let me head towards his cabin." You wave your hand in the air and turn around to leave, without waiting for his answer. 

But he knocks against the glass wall to draw your attention back towards him. 

Letting out a feeble sigh of exasperation, you whirl towards him. He draws himself closer to the glass and places both his palms over the glass wall making you feel like a dissected insect under a microscope. Your eye roves all around the building in order to avoid locking eyes with him. 

"I don't know whether you look fat or your body looks embarrassing, but you look more beautiful through this glass wall than under those crummy yellow lights of that trial room area, Ms. Saviour!" He whispers in a hoarse voice and flashes his famous box smile.

A celestial announcement.

Heart? Heart beat? what's that?!