The quiet hum of the cafe seemed to stretch on forever, as if time itself had slowed in sympathy with Y/N’s heavy heart. There were no customers, just her and Dain, sitting at the corner table, their words lost in the silence that weighed on them. Y/N absentmindedly traced the rim of her latte cup, her eyes unfocused, lost in thoughts that swirled darker with each passing second.

Then, as if a dam had finally broken, she slammed her hand onto the table, her fingers curling into a fist. The sharp noise cut through the stillness.

"That's enough, Dain. I can't take this anymore."

Dain, usually calm and composed, flinched at the intensity of Y/N’s words. She’d never seen her friend so on edge, so raw. But she wasn’t surprised. Y/N had been carrying this weight for months—rejection after rejection, all the while trying to stay composed, keep her life orderly, her path straight.she planned, she worked hard, and she expected the results. But the world hadn’t played fair.

"Calm down, Y/N," Dain said softly, her voice steady despite the worry in her eyes. "Anger isn’t good for your health."

Y/N’s face twisted in frustration, her jaw clenched. "How can I calm down, Dain? How? That fcking interviewer, he picked her just because he knew her. I was more qualified, more capable, but it’s always the same thing. She’s a btch*, and I got passed over again."

Dain took a breath, trying to pull her friend back from the edge, from letting the anger swallow her whole. "Stop. You’ve said enough." She reached across the table, gently pressing her hand over Y/N’s clenched fist. "Now, drink your latte and tell me—how does it taste?"

Y/N stared at her, then slowly lifted the cup to her lips, taking a sip as if it might ground her, help her find her way back to herself. The bitterness of the coffee mirrored the bitterness inside her. But she couldn't stop the words from spilling out, the frustration, the anger she’d held back for so long.

"How does it taste?" Y/N scoffed. "I’m sitting here drinking a latte, celebrating the fact that I’ve been rejected. Rejected, Dain."

Dain's gaze softened, the empath in her sensing the depth of Y/N’s pain. "Everyone celebrates being chosen. Let’s celebrate being rejected then. Life is too short to not find joy in the small moments, Y/N. You can’t let this define you."

Y/N felt a knot tighten in her chest. It was hard to hear Dain, to believe her words, when everything felt like it was falling apart. But Dain... always trying to see the good, always trying to lift people up. It was who she was. And right now, Y/N felt the weight of that love, that unwavering support.

"Celebrate?" Y/N’s voice cracked, her exhaustion clear. "Celebrate being turned down again and again? This is my seventh interview, Dain. Seven rejections. How do I keep going when I’ve hit this wall over and over?"

Dain’s face fell, sadness flickering in her eyes as she reached for her friend’s hand, holding it tightly. "I know it’s hard, Y/N. But you can’t give up. We will find another job. You’ll get through this."

Y/N sighed heavily, her heart heavy with the weight of defeat. "No, Dain. I can’t keep doing this. I’m done. I’m going back to my parents's home."

Dain's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? No. You can't just... leave. Please. You’ve worked so hard, and you’re so close."

Y/N shook her head, the words falling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "What’s the point of staying here anymore? I’ve tried everything. And now I have to go back, to face my family, to face my father. He’ll be so disappointed in me. I’m disappointed in myself."

Dain's heart ached, but she refused to let her friend give up. "Y/N, please, don’t lose hope. It’s just the beginning, okay? There’s still so much ahead."

Y/N’s face crumpled, the cracks in her resolve visible for the first time. "If the beginning is this hard... then what’s next? It’ll only get worse. I don’t have the strength to keep going."

Dain stood up, her voice rising with an intensity Y/N wasn’t expecting. "I won’t let you go. Not like this. Don’t lose hope, Y/N. Please."

Y/N felt her anger flare, but it wasn’t directed at Dain—it was at the situation, at herself, at the world. "Will you pay my fvcking rent, Dain?" Her voice broke, harsh and biting.

Dain froze, her breath catching as tears welled up in her eyes. "I… I just want to help you. I can’t watch you give up."

Y/N’s shoulders sagged, the weight of it all finally sinking in. She softened, her voice cracking as she looked at her friend. "I don’t want to burden you anymore, Dain. I’ve been asking for so much already. I promised my dad I’d make something of myself, but I haven’t. I’ve failed. I can’t keep doing this to you, to him...."

Y/N’s heart felt heavy as she patted Dain’s back, trying to steady the rush of emotions threatening to spill out. "I have to go now. I’ll leave in a day or two. But before I go, we should have a farewell party. We can make it count."

Dain’s eyes welled with tears, her chest tightening as she clung to her friend. "No, Y/N, I won’t let you go like this. I’ll find another way. I swear it."

Y/N felt a pang in her chest, torn between wanting to stay and not wanting to be a burden anymore. Dain had always been there for her, her rock, her support. But Y/N had come to a point where she couldn’t keep relying on her. She couldn’t.

Y/N broke the hug, stepping back. The pain in her heart was almost too much to bear. "I don’t want to let you down, Dain. But I have to let go. For both of us."

Dain shook her head, sobbing softly. "Please, Y/N. I can’t lose you. You’re more than this. I won’t let you go. Not like this."

Y/N turned away, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision she’d made. But she knew it was the right one. She couldn’t stay. Not when every part of her felt like it was crumbling.

The journey back home felt like a blur. The city that had once been full of promise now felt like a prison. Each step she took felt heavier than the last, and the closer she got to her apartment, the more her heart sank. It wasn’t just the weight of her rejection or the pain of giving up—it was the feeling of failure that clung to her, suffocating her with every breath.

As she stepped inside her small, cluttered apartment, the silence hit her like a wall. The walls felt like they were closing in, echoing with all the words she’d said to Dain, the anger and frustration that had poured out of her like a storm. But now, standing in the place she’d tried to call home for the past few months, it felt empty. Empty of hope. Empty of direction.

She stood there for a long time, staring at the mess that was her life—the piles of books, the half-packed bags, the remnants of a dream that felt like it was slipping further and further away. The world outside continued on, but here, in this tiny apartment, it felt like everything had come to a halt.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked over to her bed and began to pack her things. Clothes, shoes, —all shoved into bags with little care. She didn’t even have the energy to fold them neatly anymore. She didn’t have the heart to care about anything right now.

Her mind drifted to Dain, to the way her friend had pleaded with her not to leave. The way she had cried, holding onto Y/N like she was the last thread holding her together. Y/N felt the weight of her decision more deeply now, and the guilt gnawed at her insides. She didn’t want to hurt Dain. She didn’t want to disappoint her. But at the same time, she couldn’t keep pretending she was okay when she was falling apart inside.

She picked up the small framed picture on her nightstand—a photo of her and Dain from their first year of college, laughing together, carefree and full of dreams. The image made her chest tighten. That girl in the photo felt so far away now. She didn’t even recognize her anymore.

Y/N set the picture down with a shaky hand and grabbed another item to pack—her laptop. The device had been a symbol of all the hard work she’d put into her search for a job. But now it felt like a reminder of every rejection, every failure, and every missed opportunity. She closed the laptop with a quiet click, the sound echoing louder than it should have.

Her thoughts drifted to her family. She hadn’t wanted to go back, but what else could she do? She had promised her father she would make something of herself, but all she had to show for it was a trail of rejections and empty promises. How could she go back to them after all of this? How could she face her father, the man who had always expected her to succeed, knowing she had nothing to offer him but disappointment?

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. She couldn’t afford to cry. Not now. Not when she had already made up her mind.

But even as she packed, even as she tried to let go of everything in this city—her dreams, her failures, her friendships—a part of her still held on. She had spent so much time trying to control everything, trying to make the right choices, to plan out her future. But now, standing at this crossroads, she didn’t know if any of it had mattered. She didn’t know where she was going anymore.

Her hands trembled as she zipped up the last bag, the finality of it hitting her. She had made her decision. There was no turning back now. She couldn’t stay here any longer, not in a place that had offered her nothing but rejection and heartbreak.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow through the cracks of the curtains in Y/N’s apartment. She sat on the floor staring blankly at the wall. The silence of the room felt deafening, pressing down on her like a weight she couldn’t lift.

She was so lost in thought that the knock on her door startled her. Frowning, she wiped her face quickly and stood. Another knock followed, this time accompanied by Dain’s familiar voice.

Dain (calling): “Open the door, Y/N! I know you’re in there!”

Y/N hesitated. Part of her wanted to ignore it, to let Dain leave, but deep down, she couldn’t bring herself to shut her out. She opened the door reluctantly, finding Dain standing there with a determined look and a bag of snacks in hand.

Y/N (dryly): “You brought snacks? Is this supposed to cheer me up?”

Dain stepped inside, brushing past her. “Well, I thought I’d need some reinforcements if I’m going to convince you not to do something stupid.”

Y/N: “Convince me?” She frowned, shutting the door. “Dain, I’ve made my decision. I’m leaving, and nothing you say is going to change that.”

Dain didn’t respond immediately. She set the snacks on the table and took a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, her eyes scanning the packed suitcase on the floor.

Dain: “So, that’s it? You’re just going to give up?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened. “It’s not giving up, Dain. It’s accepting reality. I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried seven times, and every single time, I’ve failed. Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

Dain shook her head, her voice calm but firm. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re better than this.”

Y/N scoffed, turning away. “Don’t patronize me, Dain. You have no idea how hard this has been for me.”

Dain: “You’re right. I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t see how incredible you are, even if you can’t see it yourself.”

Y/N didn’t respond, her back still turned. She heard Dain sigh, and after a moment, her voice softened.

Dain: “Look... I didn’t just come here to argue with you. I came with some news.”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, wary. “What news?”

Dain: “There’s a company—Lara. You’ve heard of them, right?”

Y/N turned fully now, her brow furrowing. “Lara? You mean the Lara? The one everyone wants to work for?”

Dain nodded, her lips curling into a small smile. “That’s the one. They’re hiring for a position that’s perfect for you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly shook her head. “No. I’m not doing this again. I’m done, Dain.”

Dain: “Y/N—”

Y/N (interrupting): “No! Don’t you get it? I’ve already failed seven times. I can’t go through that again. I won’t.”

Dain leaned forward, her voice gentle but resolute. “One more time won’t kill you.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. “Is that supposed to be a joke? You think this is funny?”

Dain’s face fell, and she immediately shook her head. “No, of course not. Y/N, I would never—”

Y/N: “Because it feels like you are. Like you’re just waiting for me to fail again so you can swoop in and tell me it’s okay.”

The room fell silent. Dain watched her friend, her heart aching at the pain etched on Y/N’s face.

After a moment, she spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just... I hate seeing you like this. And I hate even more that you don’t see what I see.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped, her anger deflating. “And what do you see, Dain? Because all I see is someone who’s not good enough.”

Dain stood and crossed the room, placing a hand on Y/N’s arm. “I see someone who’s smart, hardworking, and stronger than she realizes. Someone who deserves a chance to prove herself, not just to the world but to herself. And that’s why I already sent in your application.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “You what?”

Dain: “I sent your application to Lara. If they call you for an interview, it’s because they see your potential. You’re not just some random name on a resume, Y/N. You’re capable, and they’ll see that.”

Y/N stared at her, stunned. “How could you do that without asking me?”

Dain: “Because I wasn’t going to let you throw away your dream without a fight. You’ve tried seven times, yes. So what’s one more? If you get the job, amazing. If not, then ........ But at least you’ll know you tried.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her emotions swirling. “And what if I fail again?”

Dain smiled softly. “Then we’ll figure it out together. But you’re not going to fail, Y/N. Not this time.”

Y/N’s defenses began to crumble under Dain’s unwavering belief in her. After a long pause, she finally sighed.

Y/N: “Fine. I’ll go. But this is the last time, Dain. If it doesn’t work out, I’m leaving for good.”

Dain grinned, pulling her into a tight hug. “Deal. And just so you know, I believe in you. Always.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting the comfort of her friend’s embrace wash over her. For the first time in days, she felt a flicker of hope.

As they pulled apart, Dain grabbed a snack from the bag she’d brought and handed it to Y/N.

Dain: “Now, eat something. You need your strength to ace that interview.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

Dain laughed, her voice light and full of warmth. “And that’s why you love me.”

For the first time that day, Y/N let herself laugh too. Maybe, just maybe, things could turn around.

The day of interview:

Y/N was walking briskly, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished pavement. The towering office buildings around her radiated an air of importance, making her feel small but determined. She was dressed sharply in a gray formal top and fitted black pants, her heeled sandals elevating her confidence—at least outwardly.

Her heart raced, not just from the pace of her walk but from the daunting task ahead. The thought of failing again gnawed at her. This is it, Y/N. You need to nail this one. No more excuses.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, pulling her out of her swirling thoughts. She answered quickly, already knowing who it was.

“Dain, for the love of God, this is your fourth call today.”

Dain’s voice was cheerful, though tinged with concern. “And it’ll be the fifth if you don’t hurry! Have you reached?”

“Yes, yes, I’m almost there. Five more minutes,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes.

“Almost? It’s already time, Y/N. You need to—”

“Dain, I’m hanging up now. You’re distracting me!” she snapped playfully and ended the call before Dain could argue further.

She let out a breath, pocketing her phone, and turned a corner. Before she could steady her thoughts, she collided hard with something—or rather, someone. The impact sent her tumbling to the ground.

Her phone flew out of her hand, skidding across the pavement, and she landed unceremoniously with a sharp jolt. “Ow! What the—”

Looking up, her annoyance flared. Standing before her was a tall, broad-shouldered man in a crisp black shirt and slacks. His presence was commanding, and his dark eyes flickered with intrigue as he gazed down at her. He didn’t look flustered at all, as though he was used to people running into him.

Y/N groaned and reached for her phone, pressing the power button repeatedly. But it didn’t turn on. “No, no, no. Not now!” she muttered, glaring at the screen as if sheer willpower could revive it. Her frustration bubbled over, and she turned her ire on the man.

“This is all your fault!” she said, standing up shakily.

“My fault?” he asked, his voice deep and calm, with a hint of amusement.

“Yes! Because of you, I fell, and now my phone won’t turn on. You could’ve moved, you know!”

He raised an eyebrow and offered his hand to help her up, but she ignored it, too annoyed to accept his politeness. Instead, she tried to steady herself, only to wobble on her heels and fall back slightly.

“Sh!t,” she muttered, yanking her heels off and standing barefoot.

The man smirked, a faint curve of his lips that only fueled her anger. “Do you always handle situations so gracefully?” he teased.

Y/N glared at him. “And do you always stand in people’s way and laugh at their misfortune? Say sorry. Right now.”

His smile widened, his tone infuriatingly casual. “Why should I apologize? You ran into me.”

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. “Excuse me? Are you seriously blaming me?”

He took a step closer, closing the space between them. His presence was overwhelming, and his eyes seemed to dance with an unreadable glint. “There are many things I could do that might warrant an apology,” he said softly, his voice dripping with confidence.

The timbre of his words sent a strange shiver down her spine. Y/N stepped back instinctively, her defenses rising. “W-What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, his gaze holding hers as he reached out a hand. Y/N tensed, raising her fists defensively. “Hey, hey! Back off! I know your type—always ready to flirt with any girl you see. Don’t even think about it.”

His soft chuckle was maddening. “Relax. Your hair’s messy. I was just going to fix it.”

She blinked, momentarily disarmed. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she swatted his hand away. “Well, maybe use your words instead of acting like some kind of silent hero!”

He stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Noted.”

Y/N sighed, her annoyance bubbling over again. But before she could say more, she glanced at her watch. Her heart sank. “Oh my God, I’m so late!” she exclaimed, panic overtaking her irritation. Without another glance at the man, she slipped her heels back on and took off running.

The man watched her retreating figure with an amused expression. Her flustered state and the way she clumsily ran in heels brought a quiet chuckle to his lips. “Slow down, baby girl,” he murmured under his breath, his tone laced with intrigue.

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd, he stood there for a moment longer before walking away, the faintest hint of a smirk still on his face.

Finally, Y/N arrived at her destination: The Lara Company.

The sight of the towering building sent a mix of excitement and dread coursing through her veins. This wasn’t just any place—it was a place where dreams were either made or shattered. She stood at the entrance for a moment, her fingers tightening around her bag. Her heart pounded, her breaths coming faster than she wanted.

“This is it,” she whispered, closing her eyes to center herself. “You’ve got this, Y/N.” She inhaled deeply, summoning every ounce of courage she could muster. With a quick motion, she brushed the dust off her clothes, straightened her posture, and stepped inside.

The interior was a world of its own—grand, pristine, and perfectly polished. Marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, and the air carried an air of professionalism and importance. Every detail screamed perfection, as though the building itself set a standard for anyone daring to walk through its doors.

Y/N’s stomach churned as she took it all in. This was unlike the modest offices she had tried before. Those small, cramped spaces had rejected her time and again. What hope did she have in a place like this?

Her self-doubt crept in, whispering cruel reminders of her past failures. She felt an urge to turn around, to walk back to the safety of her home, away from the sharp sting of possible rejection. But then a voice inside her rose above the doubt. You’ve come this far. There’s no going back now. Even if you fail, at least you tried.

Steeling herself, she squared her shoulders and marched forward.

Approaching the receptionist’s desk, she offered a polite smile. “Good morning. I’m here for an interview. Could you please guide me?”

The receptionist barely glanced up from her computer, her sharp eyes scanning Y/N up and down. The look wasn’t outright rude, but it carried a subtle judgment that made Y/N’s cheeks flush. She fidgeted, smoothing down her blouse and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly hyperaware of how she might appear.

“Fifth floor,” the receptionist said curtly, turning her attention back to her screen.

Y/N opened her mouth to ask for directions but hesitated, the woman’s demeanor leaving no room for further questions. Swallowing her discomfort, she murmured a quiet, “Thank you,” and turned away.

She spotted the elevator and quickly made her way there, pressing the button and stepping inside. As the doors closed, she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her formal attire was neat, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t quite belong in a place like this.

The elevator dinged, jolting her from her thoughts, and the doors slid open to reveal the fifth floor. The atmosphere here was even more intimidating, with its glass partitions and bustling employees who seemed to exude confidence.

A peon passing by directed her to the waiting area for interviews. She offered him a small smile in thanks, clutching her bag tightly as she walked over.

The waiting area was a sea of candidates, all dressed impeccably and radiating professionalism. Y/N couldn’t help but compare herself to them, her insecurities bubbling to the surface. But she forced herself to sit down and wait, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

When her name was finally called, her pulse quickened. Her legs felt like jelly as she stood, but she took a deep breath and reminded herself of why she was here. This is your chance. Show them who you are.

With determination flickering in her eyes, she walked toward the interview cabin, her heart pounding in her chest.

Y/N stood in front of the imposing door, her heart pounding louder than ever. Taking a deep breath, she knocked lightly and pushed the door open, peeking inside.

“May I come in, sir?” she asked nervously, her voice barely audible.

“Yes,” came a firm voice from within.

The second she stepped inside, the world seemed to tilt beneath her feet. Her heart stopped, her breath caught in her throat, and her body froze mid-step. It was as though time itself had played a cruel trick on her.

Sitting right in front of her, in a sharply tailored suit and exuding authority, was the man she had bumped into earlier. His composed demeanor, the confident way he sat, and the cold professionalism in his eyes were starkly different from the teasing, smirking figure she’d encountered just moments ago. Beside him sat another equally commanding presence, though this man was entirely unfamiliar to her.

The second interviewer broke the silence. “You can come in.”

Her legs moved mechanically, as though on autopilot. She nodded stiffly and walked in, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor to avoid meeting his eyes. The shame from their earlier encounter was suffocating her.

“You may sit,” the second interviewer said, gesturing toward a chair.

“Oh, yes,” she mumbled, her voice shaky. She sat down, her movements awkward and uncoordinated. Her palms were damp, and her heart felt like it might burst from her chest.

She risked a glance at him. He was calm, composed, and professional, as though the incident outside had never happened. If he can act normal, so can I, she thought, trying to steady herself.

The second interviewer, noticing her nerves, leaned forward slightly. “Miss, are you all right?”

Y/N fumbled with her words. “Y-Yes, sir. I’m fine.”

The man who had been silent until now—him—observed her quietly. She couldn’t decipher what was behind his eyes, but it unsettled her further.

“Introduce yourself,” the second interviewer said.

Her fingers gripped the sides of her chair tightly as she fought to calm her racing thoughts. Focus, Y/N. You’ve prepared for this. Don’t let him throw you off.

She began speaking, her voice hesitant at first, but as the minutes passed, her confidence returned. She shared her background, skills, and ambitions with clarity, her professionalism shining through despite the earlier embarrassment.

They began asking her questions, and to her relief, her responses flowed naturally. She didn’t let her nerves—or his silent presence—distract her. Each answer was precise and well-thought-out, reflecting her years of preparation and persistence.

As the interview continued, she noticed the second interviewer nodding approvingly at her responses. Even he—the man she had clashed with—seemed impressed, though he kept his face impassive.

When it finally ended, Y/N let out an imperceptible sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N. We’ll contact you if you’re selected,” the second interviewer said with a polite nod.

She stood up, gathering her belongings. “Thank you, sir,” she said, bowing slightly.

But just as she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.

“Miss, is your phone in a condition to receive calls?”

Her breath hitched. That smirk—the one she thought she had imagined—was back on his face. There was a playful glint in his eyes, as though he had been waiting for this moment.

Her face turned red, half in embarrassment and half in anger. She forced a smile and replied through gritted teeth, “Yes, sir. It is.”

He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair, his gaze following her as she walked out.

The moment she was out of sight, she groaned under her breath. Why does he keep ruining my mood? she thought, storming down the hallway.

As she exited the building, her earlier sense of accomplishment was overshadowed by frustration. She had done well in the interview, but now she wasn’t even sure if it mattered. There’s no way he’ll let me pass. Why did I have to argue with him?

She replayed the events in her head, overanalyzing every detail and cursing her luck.

Nearby, two other candidates who had just finished their interviews were talking animatedly. Their laughter and whispers caught her attention, pulling her out of her thoughts. Though she was annoyed and frustrated, curiosity compelled her to listen.

Y/N stood at the elevator doors, her mind swirling with thoughts of the interview. Relief, frustration, and a lingering sense of embarrassment were fighting for dominance in her heart. As the elevator arrived with a soft ding, she stepped inside, barely noticing the two other candidates who joined her.

The elevator doors slid shut, and the confined space filled with a soft murmur as the two girls began whispering to each other. Their animated conversation drew Y/N’s attention.

“Did you see them?” one of the girls said, her voice tinged with excitement.

“See them?” the other scoffed, playfully swatting her friend’s arm. “How could anyone miss them? One side, the charming Kim Taehyung, and the other side, the stunning Jeon Jungkook. Oh dear, my heart almost exploded with how fine they looked!”

Y/N blinked, her curiosity piqued. Kim Taehyung? Jeon Jungkook? Who were these men they were talking about with so much admiration?

The second girl sighed dreamily, leaning against the elevator wall. “I know, right? Their looks are unreal. Both of them could make hearts race just by standing there. And that aura—ugh, I thought I’d faint.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, straining to hear their conversation while keeping her expression neutral. Her curiosity grew stronger. Were they talking about the interviewers?

“Honestly,” the first girl continued, “the second I stepped into that cabin, all the attitude I had prepared for the interview melted away. I couldn’t even focus on the questions. I just kept staring at them like an idiot!”

The second girl chuckled. “Same. I think I forgot everything I prepared for the interview. I couldn’t stop enjoying the way they talked. Their voices were so deep and commanding. I swear, I was completely hypnotized.”

Y/N’s lips twitched in faint amusement, but her heart skipped a beat. The man they were describing had to be him—the one she’d encountered in the morning. Her embarrassment resurfaced as she recalled their earlier argument. And yet, she had to admit, he was undeniably handsome, even if his teasing smirk infuriated her.

As the elevator descended, the girls’ chatter continued.

“Do you think they’re married?” one of them asked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Y/N leaned subtly closer, her ears straining to catch their words.

“I don’t know,” the other girl replied thoughtfully. “But if we get hired, we might find out. Imagine seeing them every day. Ugh, what a dream.”

The first girl sighed wistfully. “Don’t get your hopes up. Even if we get hired, it’s not like we’ll get to know their private lives. Big companies like this always bring in top experts for interviews. They probably don’t even work here.”

“Maybe,” the other girl agreed. “But if they do, I swear I’ll find an excuse to talk to them every chance I get!”

Y/N silently rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t blame them entirely. Both men—especially him—had an undeniable presence that could leave anyone flustered.

The elevator chimed again as they reached the ground floor. The two girls exited, their conversation fading as they walked away.

Y/N stayed behind for a moment, letting the doors close again before pressing the button for the lobby. She leaned against the cool metal wall, her head tilted back as she let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Her emotions were a chaotic mess. Part of her wanted to laugh at how smitten those girls were, but another part of her felt deeply annoyed. Their conversation had reminded her of her own awkward encounter with him. Why does my fate keep tangling with his?

And then there was the nagging curiosity. Who was he, really? Was he just another temporary interviewer, or was he someone important in the company? She hadn’t even caught his name during the interview.

Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung-; She repeated the name in her head, testing how it sounded. It was a strong name, fitting for someone with such a commanding aura.

She shook her head, trying to push him out of her thoughts. It didn’t matter who he was or how good he looked. What mattered was her performance in the interview. And yet, as much as she tried, her mind kept drifting back to his mischievous smirk, his teasing comment about her phone, and the way he’d managed to rattle her twice in one day.

“Focus, Y/N,” she muttered under her breath. “You’ve already wasted enough energy thinking about him.”

As the elevator doors opened again, she stepped out into the lobby. The sunlight streaming through the glass doors reminded her that life would go on, no matter the outcome of today’s interview.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her path would cross his again—and that her already complicated day was only the beginning.

_________

The café was lively in the golden glow of evening, yet two men at the corner table commanded silent attention. Both were engrossed in their coffees, seemingly impervious to the quiet murmurs of admiration from the patrons around them. Their striking presence was enough to turn heads, but they seemed accustomed to such attention.

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs. “Today was a tough day, wasn’t it, Jungkook?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, carrying just a hint of exhaustion.

Jungkook took a measured sip of his coffee before setting the cup down with practiced ease. “Yes, it was tough, but we made it through. At least it’s done now,” he replied, his tone calm but edged with weariness.

For a moment, they lapsed into silence, the weight of the day pressing down on them. Then, as Jungkook reached for his cup again, Taehyung’s expression abruptly darkened. He sat upright, his gaze sharp and accusing.

“What’s wrong now?” Jungkook asked, raising an eyebrow in mild curiosity.

“You,” Taehyung snapped, his voice low but laced with irritation. “You fvcking liar. If you were going to come for the interview, why did you drag me into it? You know I hate this kind of thing.”

Jungkook sighed, leaning back in his chair with an air of exasperated amusement. “Calm down, Taehyung.”

“Calm down?” Taehyung’s voice rose a notch, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. Jungkook immediately shot him a warning look.

“We’re in a public place,” he said in a low, firm voice. “Don’t shout. You’re going to make people think I did something wrong.”

Jungkook was very serious about his image. He always maintain his personality as a perfect man in public. Meanwhile Taehyung-; he was opposite. When he is angry he didn't care about people around him.

Taehyung scoffed, leaning forward with a glare. “Public place, my foot. First, explain yourself. Why were you so eager to show up today? You’ve never willingly taken interviews before.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched into an amused pout. “You’re my friend, aren’t you? You’re supposed to help me out.”

“That’s the problem!” Taehyung groaned, throwing up his hands. “You always dump these things on me, and I end up sacrificing my peace of mind. Then, you waltz in like it’s no big deal.”

“You love me too much to say no,” Jungkook teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Taehyung shot him a deadpan look. “Stop with the childish face and tell me the real reason. You’ve never cared about interviews before, so what changed?”

Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Seo Y/N.”

Taehyung blinked, his irritation replaced by confusion. “Who?”

“The girl from the interview,” Jungkook clarified, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

“Oh,” Taehyung said, leaning back. “The weird one?”

Jungkook nodded, the corner of his lips twitching upward into a faint smirk.

“What about her?” Taehyung asked, clearly baffled.

Jungkook’s gaze softened, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “She’s the girl I met eight months ago.”

Taehyung frowned, racking his brain for any memory of the incident. Jungkook’s face fell slightly as realization dawned that Taehyung had no clue.

“You don’t remember?” Jungkook asked, his tone a mix of disappointment and disbelief.

Taehyung raised his hands defensively. “Shhh. Give me a second to think.”

Jungkook’s expression turned sulky as he stared at his friend. “Don’t bother. It’s clear you don’t have interest in my life anymore.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop sulking. Just tell me again. People forget things sometimes, you know.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, his frustration evident. “How could you forget something so important to me? Oh, wait, I remember now—when I told you about it, you were too busy texting your fvcking gi............”

“Don’t you dare,” Taehyung warned, his voice low and menacing. “Say one bad word about my girlfriend, and our friendship is over.”

Jungkook immediately held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. It slipped out.”

Though their banter often toed the line, there was a mutual respect for boundaries, especially when it came to family and loved ones.

Though the tension between them was palpable for a moment, they both knew their friendship was too strong to be derailed by minor spats.

Taehyung sighed, his irritation giving way to curiosity. “Fine. Now tell me about this Seo Y/N.”

Jungkook’s expression brightened as he leaned forward slightly. “She’s the one I met eight months ago in the evening…”

Taehyung’s eyes widened as clarity hit him. He clapped his hands, his face lighting up in recognition. “Oh! I remember now!”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a genuine smile, relief and satisfaction softening his features. “Finally.”

With the memory now shared between them, the tension melted away. Despite their bickering, their bond of loyalty and understanding shone through—a friendship forged in fire and strengthened by trust.

Taehyung: " so what is your next move?"

As the room fell silent, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Thinking about the past incidents with y/n he took a sip of his coffee.