i'm someone you won't talk about (falling)

International bestselling celebrity author Wendy Son finds herself struck down with a terrible case of writer’s block for her highly-anticipated novel Falling. At her wits’ end, she falls asleep while trying to work out her final draft, only to wake up in the world of Falling, with no known way of leaving. What’s worse is that she’s now trapped as the secretary to her novel’s jilted and disgruntled secondary character, CEO Irene Bae.
[Cross-posted from AFF]

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

She narrows her eyes at her screen, her eyebrows furrowed. She swings her feet as she lets out a contemplative hum. She stares for a while longer before she pushes herself away from her desk and lets out a loud groan of annoyance. Right on time, her phone starts to buzz.

With a sigh, she picks it up.

“Hey.”

“How are you coming along with your novel?”

“Yah, Park Sooyoung, do you think I can churn out the ending in the span of a few hours?”

“Chill, Seungwan-unnie, I was just asking,” Sooyoung grumbles, “Sheesh.”

Seungwan covers her worn eyes with her hand, “Sorry, Sooyoung. It’s just— Nothing I’m coming up with is any good.”

“One of those dry days, huh?”

“…Yeah.”

“In that case, I shouldn’t have called.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“…The editorial team’s asking if your final draft of Falling will be ready by the end of this week.”

“Can’t say I’m not surprised,” the blonde feels her head start to throb painfully, “But who do they think I am? Some superhuman writing machine?”

“Well, you are celebrity writer Wendy Son after all,” Sooyoung continues, “Of course they’re gonna think you have miraculous writing powers.”

“Unfortunately for them, that’s not the case.”

“Maybe your characters are the ones giving you a hard time with the ending,” Sooyoung offers, “What are you planning for both your main characters?”

“They struggle till their happily ever after.”

“That’s the vaguest ending I’ve ever heard, but who am I to judge? You are one of the world’s top international bestselling authors.”

Seungwan can somehow sense her manager rolling her eyes at the other end of the line.

“Stop it. I really hate that title.”

“Okay, well, what about that secondary character? What was her name again? I…Irene?”

Seungwan swallows thickly, “She’s alone.”

She hears a sigh over the phone.

“Seriously? That’s what you came up with?” Sooyoung hisses.

“What’s the issue? She’s a CEO. She has money. Looks. Power. Everything! What more does she need?”

“She needs love. Look, it’s become quite a pattern in your stories. Why don’t you try something different?”

Seungwan snorts, “You’re telling a bestselling author to write something different?”

“You just said you hate that title,” Sooyoung counters swiftly, “Anyway, what about… Oh! You know that online novel by Chan Naegwa? The one about an idol and her manager braving the odds of Korea’s entertainment industry and its corporate big bad?”

“What about it?”

“Naegwa didn’t have any secondary characters vying for any of the two mains’ affections.”

“Are you telling me to get rid of Irene’s character completely?”

“Well…” Sooyoung hums.

Seungwan hears the manager tap her pen.

“In Chan Naegwa’s novel, it was just the both of them against the world,” Sooyoung continues, “Is there really a need for a love triangle? Why not a system that works against them? In Falling’s case, you could explore a corrupted corporate system!”

“I hate stories like that.”

“Eh?”

The novelist spares a glance at the pile of drafts sitting on her desk, “A broken system can only do so much to stand in the way of two people. But another person? That changes the game. Also, where is that raw tension in a heart that longs for someone they can’t have?”

“Well, there was that soloist’s junio—”

“That soloist’s junior was just playing those two into each other’s arms,” Seungwan cuts in, “What truth is there if everyone supports your relationship? That’s not reality. That’s delusion. And it’s predictable.”

“It’s fiction, for goodness’ sake, Seungwan-unnie! People read fiction as an escape from reality,” Sooyoung scoffs, “And sure, it’s predictable, but so is your new novel.”

Seungwan’s hand balls into a fist, her breaths short and fast as annoyance fills her.

“What? Am I wrong?” Her manager asks, “Your two leads end up together, and your secondary character ends up alone. Predictable. To. The. Core.”

“Sooyoung, you—”

“Look, Seungwan-unnie, if you wanna keep Irene’s character, by all means, please do. Just don’t make her only a catalyst for someone else’s budding romance. She’s a person too.”

“She’s a character, Sooyoung.”

Her manager lets out a sigh, frustration evident in its volume, “And good characters are dynamic like real people, not just vehicles for other characters to get what they want. Come on, you know this.”

Seungwan feels the pounding in her head grow more pronounced.

“Someone has to say this, so it might as well be me,” Sooyoung’s tone takes a solemn turn, “If the ending’s not coming out right, it might be because something’s off mid-story. Somewhere down the line, perhaps you…started forcing things. I think…your dry spell started way before you even began writing the ending.”

With a sharp pang to her heart, Seungwan realises that maybe what her manager is saying is true. But she doesn’t want to admit it. There would be way too many unpleasant implications to be drawn if she acknowledges it.

“Your art imitates life, Seungwan-unnie.”

“…What do you mean?”

“What I mean is…maybe it’s time you wrote something that your life can imitate instead.”

The novelist’s eyes wander to the pile of drafts on her right. A sealed envelope sits on top of it. She tightens her grip on her phone.

“What do you want me to do, Sooyoung? Rewrite Falling? The deadline isn’t that far off, even if we don’t push it forward like the editorial team’s request.”

“I’ll tell them to push back the deadline,” Sooyoung ignores her, “I’ll sort out the delay with the other investors. So don’t worry. I just want you to come up with something you can actually look at without hating yourself.”

“Since when do you decide these things, Park Sooyoung?” Seungwan stands from her chair, raising her voice a little.

“Since I became one of your major investors, Seungwan-unnie. Now stop being so dramatic and get some sleep. You can continue writing in the morning.”

Click.

“S-Sooyoung? Yah, Park Sooyoung!” Seungwan pulls her phone away from her ear, only just realising that her manager had just hung up on her.

With a huff, she tosses her phone back on her desk. She paces around her room, her nerves on edge. She pauses to glare at her laptop, her incomplete manuscript taunting her. She storms back to her chair and sits back down. She pulls herself back to her desk and focuses her stare on her screen once again. She slowly raises her hands to her keyboard, resting her fingers on the keys.

But nothing comes.

No matter how much she urges her fingers to move, she finds herself at a loss of words.

Her mind struggles to come up with something, anything, to no avail.

A sudden rage filling her, she snatches the envelope off the pile. She glares at it with accusing eyes, as though its presence were the cause of her writer’s block. She almost wants to rip it to shreds. With shaky hands, she’s tempted to crush it, but as suddenly as it came, her anger evaporates like mist.

She opts to toss it into the bin next to her instead.

Her tearful eyes return to her manuscript. She rubs them haphazardly, willing herself not to cry in frustration over her writer’s block. She takes a deep breath and steels her heart.

It’s okay.

Happens all the time. I’ll get over it.

Eventually.

She proceeds to stare at her screen. She isn’t sure how long she looks at it for, or if her fingers actually move in the course of that time, until her heavy eyes fall shut.

The alarm blares in her ears, shocking her awake. She tumbles out of her bed, falling to the floor with a thud. She lets out a pained groan. She blindly for her phone, fumbling with until she switches it off. She’s about to fall asleep again, barely registering the sound of muffled footsteps growing louder. The door bursts open.

She jolts awake.

“My lovely Seungwan, it’s time to wake up!”

That…sounds like her father’s voice. It’s strange. Because even in her sleepy state, she remembers that she’d moved out more than ten years ago. And she lives alone.

She sits up with a start, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

“W-Why are you looking at me like t-that?” Her father is taken aback, looking mildly surprised to see his daughter this awake.

She studies his face quizzically.

He…looks like…Dad. Am I dreaming?

She looks around her bedroom. It’s nothing like she’s ever seen before. Everything seems foreign to her, though every object in the room is very much her.

What’s happening?

“Ah, it must be because today’s a big day for you, huh!”

Big…day?

Seungwan frowns.

For what?

“Anyway, stop lazing around, I’ll drive you there today.”

“W-Where?”

Her father turns to look at her in confusion, “What do you mean where? To Jewel Corp, of course!”

Jewel Corp? That sounds familiar. Where have I—

Seungwan scrambles to her feet, “Jewel Corp?!”

“Yeah! You have an interview there today,” Mr Son takes a step back from his dishevelled daughter, “Did you forget? Aish, my airheaded daughter. How are you going to become the CEO’s secretary like this?”

He grumbles to himself as he shuffles back downstairs.

Jewel Corp? CEO’s secretary? That means…

Seungwan sinks to the floor as shock overwhelms her senses.

This is Falling.

She covers her mouth with her hand in shock.

I’m in the world of Falling.

I’ve become so obsessed with my work that it’s become part of my dreams. This won’t do.

I have to wake up.

She shuts her eyes and reaches to pinch herself. A sharp pain shoots up her arm. She winces a little before opening her eyes to check.

Nope, the room hasn’t changed one bit. She’s still stuck here.

She lets out a sigh. Looks like leaving isn’t possible at the moment.

I must be so tired that that I can’t even wake up.

She gets up once more and stretches. She pauses mid-stretch as her brain starts to whir to life.

Well, since it’s a dream, it won’t hurt to stay a little longer. Maybe it’ll help me figure out Falling’s ending.

She glances down at the calendar on her bedside table to find a large red circle on 13 July 2020.

For this to continue, I guess I have to meet Irene. But knowing her…it’ll be like walking into the lions’ den.

She takes a deep breath and strides over to her wardrobe, throwing it open.

If I’m to survive, I need to get my head in the game.

She’s halfway stuffing her face with her mom’s delicious cooking when she gets a call.

Seul?

She wonders if she should pick up.

“Yah, Son Seungwan, pick that shit up,” Seunghee snaps at her in annoyance, “It’s too early in the morning for this.”

“You’re just jealous I have a life. And friends.”

“What did you say, you—”

“You two are already adults and you’re still fighting like little kids,” Mrs Son chides them as she sets down her plate, “Behave.”

Mr Son peers at Seungwan over his newspaper, “You’re not gonna pick up?”

“Yeah, did you fight with your bestie or something?” Her sister asks.

Ah, so she’s also my best friend here.

She answers the call.

“Hey, Seul…?”

“Yah, Wani, why did you take so long to answer?!”

“I’m having breakfast,” Seungwan stuffs a piece of rolled omelette into her mouth, “Whash shup?”

“Oh, I was just calling to wish you all the best with CEO Bae later!” Seulgi replies, her voice half an octave higher than usual, a classic marker of her excitement, “I’m so excited for you!”

Even in this world, Seulgi is as pure and loveable as ever.

Seungwan smiles, “I can tell.”

“Ace the interview, Son Seungwan! Then I can proudly tell everyone we’re working in the same company and I’m best friends with the CEO’s secretary!”

So Seul’s in Jewel Corp too? Well, I’ll be damned.

At least I’ll know a familiar face.

If I get in.

If.

That’s a big ‘if’.

“I’ll do my best, Seul.”

“Not with that energy, you’ll hardly make a dent on her.”

If the Seul here is the same as the one in the real world, then what she’s really asking me to do is…

“Fighting,” she whispers.

“Aye, that was so weak.”

Seungwan glances up at her family, growing a little more self-conscious by the second.

“Fighting!” She shout-whispers, jabbing the air lightly with her fist.

“Still not good enough! Do you even want the job?”

Ugh, screw it.

She stands and punches the air with a yell, “Fighting!”

Three pairs of eyes immediately land on her judgingly. She awkwardly scratches the back of her neck before letting her hand fall back by her side.

“That’s more like it,” Seulgi’s voice betrays her amusement.

With heated cheeks, the blonde sits back down, cursing her best friend’s enthusiasm internally.

“As I was saying, don’t be nervous,” Mr Son casts a side glance at his youngest daughter in the seat next to him, before returning his gaze to the road ahead, “Bosses these days like their employees to be a little more assertive and less of a yes-man. Or. Well. A yes-woman.”

“That’s like the fourteenth time you’ve said that, Dad,” Seungwan chuckles, “I’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “But this is such a big thing for you, you know? Especially seeing how you’ve been preparing so much for this day…I’m hoping and praying that you’ll find all that hard work worth it.”

Seungwan feels her tears well up. She blinks them away and sniffles.

That…sounds like something Dad would say.

In real life.

“Ah…is my precious daughter crying?” Her father smiles softly at her, “Please don’t cry. You spent a lot of time on your make-up, didn’t you? Make-up to dazzle CEO Bae.”

“Stop it, Dad,” she punches her father’s shoulder lightly, “I’m not going to dazzle her with my looks.”

“Oh?” He muses, “But you look really pretty like that now. I’m sure the CEO will be so impressed that she’ll hire you on sight.”

“Nah, I’m gonna dazzle her with my brain.”

Mr Son grins and reaches over to shake his daughter by the shoulder, “Now that’s what I’m talking about, my brilliant daughter!”

“You called me airheaded just now!” Seungwan feigns offence, shrugging off his hand playfully.

“Yah, I was just joking!”

“I don’t think so!”

It isn’t long before Seungwan finds herself standing in front of front doors leading to the office of Jewel Corp’s CEO. She scans the five other faces who have applied for the position.

They’re all beautiful women. For a moment, it makes her wonder if she should even be here. She shakes her head, ridding her mind of those thoughts.

If I go in with that defeatist attitude, I’m never going to impress Irene like that.

“Bosses these days like their employees to be a little more assertive and less of a yes-man.”

Suddenly, the lift doors slide open and another individual rushes out. She turns to look at the new arrival. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little stunned by his striking good looks. He looks like—

She blanches.

It’s him.

One of Falling’s main characters.

His name is—

Wait, what was his name again?

It slips her mind like an eel through hands. She tries hard to remember, but her mind remains blank.

Huh. Strange.

He walks over, bowing to everyone politely. Seungwan sends a polite nod his way. He settles down on her left quietly, combing his fingers through his hair then straightening his tie. His suit fits him, tailored perfectly to his sharp frame. Feeling self-conscious, she glances down at her own outfit.

A simple light blue blouse and black dress pants. Maybe she should’ve put more thought into this. She looks dull and boring next to him. She adjusts her golden framed glasses nervously.

It isn’t long before she’s called in. But if the face of every applicant before her were to tell her anything, it’s that CEO Bae is next to impossible to impress. Seungwan casts a brief side glance at the only male candidate.

Well, I did write that she ended up hiring him.

Standing up resolutely, she inhales sharply.

Whatever. Since I’m going before him, I’ll just…give it a shot.

“Ms Son, it’s your turn,” Yoona, the CEO’s current secretary, calls out to her.

Nodding in polite acknowledgement, Seungwan stands and walks towards the CEO’s office. She pushes the door open, striding through as confidently as she can. She tries not to flinch at the sound of the heavy doors shutting behind her. Her eyes are locked onto only one person. Irene. She looks just as jaw-droppingly breathtaking as she’d imagined.

Maybe more.

Just a tad more.

Her heart picks up its pace a little, as she drinks in every detail and feature of the CEO.

The way Irene’s slightly wavy and lush black hair falls over her shoulder. Her impeccable and expensive sense of fashion in her pure white pantsuit. Bright red lipstick on lush lips that somehow pulls the wealthy CEO look together.

And most of all, her doe-like eyes that pierce so sharply that Irene does not fall short of being a living, walking paradox.

That face… Seungwan gulps, urging her eyes not to waver.

Irene stands slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assesses the newcomer. The woman looks no different from the previous applicants who’d walked in. Perhaps those golden-framed round glasses give her a softer, nerdier look, but other than that, she’s not supposed to stand out.

Still, there’s something different about the way she carries herself. And maybe she finds that slightly intriguing. Irene glances down at the application on her desk.

Son Seungwan.

21 February 1994.

“Welcome, Ms…Son.”

“Ms Bae,” Seungwan dips her head in greeting.

The older woman raises a brow.

She enters without knocking, she calls me ‘Ms Bae’ instead of ‘CEO Bae’ and she doesn’t bow.

Sitting back down, Irene gestures to the seat opposite her, “Please, sit.”

“Thank you,” Seungwan takes the offered seat.

“A tall decaf vanilla latte, one sugar, two extra shots of espresso, soy milk,” the CEO suddenly says, “That’s what I drink in the mornings. Repeat my order back to me.”

Seungwan stares at her for a while, before the right corner of her lips tugs up into a knowing smile.

“I think not.”

Irene fixes her with a quizzical look, “Excuse me?”

Seungwan takes a deep breath, “First of all, you said ‘decaf’ plus two extra shots of espresso, which doesn’t add up. It’s an order you made up on the spot.”

“Second of all,” Seungwan’s eyes dart down to the cup on the CEO’s desk, “You don’t drink coffee. You’re a tea kind of gir— I mean, person.”

Because that’s how I wrote you.

Irene hums thoughtfully.

Interesting…

“You’re observant. That’s good,” the older woman continues, “That said, being my employee means your time belongs to me. There’ll be emergency meetings and spontaneous flights and you’ll be accompanying me to every single one of them. Are you ready to subject any remainder of your social life to my whims?”

Social life… What a joke. Seungwan scoffs internally.

For a celebrity, I surprisingly have none to begin with.

“That’s another trick question, Ms Bae.”

“Do elaborate.”

“You’re someone who cares about the well-being of your employees, which led you to restructure workplace ethics and policies in the office to provide a better work-life balance for them,” Seungwan explains, “It’s true that as your prospective secretary, I’ll be accompanying you most of the time. But it also stands that you’d think these spontaneous events through before getting me to follow you outside working hours. If you do require me to be there, you’ll arrange for the appropriate compensation.”

The CEO leans back, “I see you’ve done your research.”

“I know who I’m talking to, Ms Bae.”

“So, where do you live?”

Seungwan is caught unaware by the sudden question.

I…I don’t actually know.

Maybe it’s Seongbuk-dong? That’s where I live in the real world. But…it might not be the case here. Damn it! Why wasn’t I paying attention earlier?

Come on, Seungwan! Think!

Dad and I left the house at 7.00am and arrived at 7.50am. That’s…

“U-Uh, it took me fifty minutes to get here.”

“By car? Or train?”

“Car.”

“So you drove.”

“No, my dad did.”

“So you can’t drive.”

“N-No! I can!” Seungwan waves her hands, “It’s just…it’s my dad’s car and he wanted to do something nice for me today.”

“Ah, what a loving father.”

Seungwan notes the flash of sadness in the CEO’s eyes.

And she knows why.

How did we end up here?

Seungwan swallows thickly, “U-Uh, why are we talking about this?”

“I just wanted to know how long it would take for you to get to the office,” Irene picks up her cup of tea and sips from it, “Fifty minutes by car, but you don’t have a car…”

“I’m sorry, does that mean you’re hiring me?”

The CEO smirks, “That depends on your answer to my next question.”

“Fire away, Ms Bae.”

“What are your thoughts on moving in with me?”

Seungwan freezes.

What…the hell?

“I mean, you currently live quite far, and I’d hate for you to have to wake up at ungodly hours for work,” Irene stares up at the ceiling in deep thought, “If you live with me, you’d have more time to rest, which will make up for any overtime as my secretary. This is my compensation, Ms Son.”

“We’ve only just met, Ms Bae.”

“Rent-free, Ms Son.”

“Is that supposed to convince me? I live rent-free with my family too.”

“Well, if you don’t want the job, then…”

No, wait—!

Seungwan is up from her seat as quick as lightning, “I’ll do it! I’ll move in with you!”

Without missing a beat, the CEO reaches for her intercom and presses the button, all the while maintaining eye contact with the woman in front of her.

“Secretary Im, please send the remaining candidate home.”

“Noted, CEO Bae.”

Irene releases the button and stands up, walking over to her.

She stops in front of her newest hire and holds out her hand, “Welcome to Jewel Corp, Ms Son.”

Seungwan cautiously takes the CEO’s hand, aiming to give it a firm shake. But the moment they make contact, electricity singes her nerves. She almost yanks her hand away, only for Irene to tighten her grip.

The CEO tugs her close, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “I look forward to working with you.”

Seungwan feels a shiver run down her spine.

What have I gotten myself into?

“Wait, so you got the job?!”

“Y-Yeah,” Seungwan stammers, still a little shaken by her first encounter with the CEO, which left her feeling rather on edge.

She looks around the ground lobby cautiously.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard this year, Wani!” Her best friend’s voice assaults her ear through the phone, “I’m so proud of you!”

“T-Thanks, Seul.”

“So…what was she like?”

“Frankly, quite terrifying,” Seungwan swallows thickly, “One of her conditions is that I have to move in with her.”

Beat.

“Sorry, what?”

The blonde draws in a sharp breath, “I said, one of her conditions is that I have to move in with her. Something about compensating for overtime and whatnot.”

“Huh, I thought I’d heard wrongly. Sorry about that, Wani.”

“Honestly, if I were you, I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“What did you do at the interview that CEO Bae made her move so quickly? Could it be—” Seulgi gasps, “Son Seungwan, you didn’t!”

“What? What did I do?!”

“Don’t tell me you—” Her best friend drops her voice to a whisper, “You seduced her? Wow, I didn’t think you had it in yo—"

“WHAT?! NO!” Seungwan can’t help but shriek at the sheer ridiculousness.

Her voice echoes through the lobby, gaining the attention of several other employees. Embarrassed by her own outburst, the blonde dips her head to them apologetically. They move along and she returns her attention to her cackling best friend.

“I literally just told you she wants to compensate for any overtime and save me the traveling time too,” Seungwan hisses.

“Okay, okay,” Seulgi chuckles, “That’s really…nice of her.”

Seungwan grunts.

Actually, she’s suspicious as hell, but I guess I’ll only know once I get there.

The novelist sighs, “Actually, that’s why I called you.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“I need a ride asap,” Seungwan admits, “She gave me up till 8pm to move my things to her place tonight.”

Several hours later, Seungwan finds herself outside her new and very expensive-looking accommodation. She’s torn between beaming with excitement at seeing her world truly come to life as she’d always imagined it to be and cursing herself for impulsively taking up her new boss’ offer without thinking things through.

Though…it was more like an order.

She rolls her eyes and presses the doorbell. Next to her, Seulgi bounces on her feet excitedly. The intercom screen lights up and Seungwan almost gets a heart attack from seeing Irene’s face up close on it. She staggers back a step.

“Oh, Ms Son. You’re here,” The CEO greets her through the screen.

She hears the padding of footsteps as Irene pulls open the door, greeting the blonde with a small smile, “Welcome to your new residence.”

Irene’s smile falters slightly as she realises her new secretary hadn’t come alone.

Seulgi bows deeply to her, “Hello, CEO Bae.”

The CEO folds her arms and takes a step forward, holding the door open with her foot, “Hello, Ms Kang.”

Seulgi turns to look at her best friend, an excited grin plastered to her face, “She knows me, Wani!”

Seungwan can only manage a tight smile at Irene before looking back down at her feet again.

“I make it a point to remember the faces of my staff, Ms Kang.”

Seulgi gapes at her, impressed. The CEO, on the other hand, remains expressionless.

Reading the atmosphere, Seungwan nudges her best friend, “I’m fine from here, Seul. You should go.”

Seulgi’s gaze swings between the two, her mind working. Her eyes light up as she arrives at a conclusion. She heaves Seungwan’s duffel bag on top of her light blue luggage.

Seulgi proceeds to ruffle her best friend’s hair, “See you when I see you, Wani. Let’s catch up soon.”

She waves politely at the CEO and takes her leave.

“She’s…lively,” Irene remarks as the woman disappears into the lift.

“A-Ah yeah,” Seungwan dips her head, neatening her mussed hair, “Seul may seem overwhelming at first, but she’s really sweet once you get to know her.”

“Just because I know her face and name doesn’t mean I want to know her, Ms Son,” the CEO sounds a little cold, but Seungwan chalks it up to her new boss feeling tired from work.

“Come on through,” the older woman steps aside, holding the door open for the blonde.

Seungwan nods wordlessly and enters, pulling a luggage along with her. She busies herself with taking off her shoes by the shoe racks. The CEO releases the door and it shuts. Irene turns around to look at her, curious about the blonde’s reaction to her new home. But her newly-hired secretary doesn’t gape at the grandeur of the Irene’s house. Seungwan eventually looks up, only to simply regard the space with a contemplative hum.

It comes as no surprise to the celebrity writer—she’d designed it with her own words after all.

“You don’t look impressed.”

Seungwan snaps out of her thoughts, “O-Oh! U-Uh, wow! What a nice place you have!”

“Too late, Ms Son,” Irene folds her arms, “You must be used to living in luxury.”

You’re…not wrong. Perks of being a bestselling author, I guess.

Seungwan smiles, “Not as luxurious as yours, but I’ve been fortunate enough.”

“How humble,” Irene clicks her tongue and gestures down the hallway, “Anyway, your room is down the corridor on the right. Leave your belongings in there and meet me out here. We’ll discuss the terms of your contract first.”

“Right,” Seungwan spins deftly on her toes and heads to said room, tugging her luggage along.

Irene settles down on her couch, watching her secretary’s small back disappear into room.

Not long after, Seungwan reappears. The CEO gestures to the seat opposite her. Seungwan sits down, crossing her legs as she leans back, almost as if she’s already taken to the new place in the span of several minutes. Irene studies her new housemate.

It’s like she owns the place, not me.

Irene raises a brow, “Comfortable?”

The blonde nods coolly. While she might have found the younger woman’s calm countenance to be refreshing at first, the CEO feels slightly unsettled. If Seungwan had noticed her own strange behaviour in her boss’ house, she doesn’t show it.

Irene clears her throat, “Let’s get straight to the terms of our contract, Ms Son.”

“Yeah.”

Irene shuffles through her work bag and fishes out a file. She hands it over to her new secretary. Seungwan’s eyes scan the document with the utmost care.

THIS AGREEMENT, made and entered as of 13 July 2020, by and between BAE IRENE, the Chief Executive Officer of Jewel Corporation (hereinafter referred to as the “CEO”) and SON SEUNGWAN, an individual (hereinafter referred to as the “Executive Secretary”).

She frowns as she reaches the last few clauses.

SECTION 5.              PERFORMANCE REVIEW

            The Executive Secretary and the CEO shall meet at the CEO’s discretion for the purpose of reviewing the Executive Secretary’s performance of her duties and responsibilities.

…

SECTION 6.              HOURS OF WORK

            It is mandatory that the Executive Secretary must devote a substantial amount of time outside normal office hours to perform the business of the CEO. In exchange for living in the CEO’s residence free of charge, any compensation for overtime to the Executive Secretary will be duly decided by the CEO at her discretion.

This doesn’t make sense… This is far from what I wrote for the contract I had her give to him.

She looks up from the file, “You…really weren’t kidding when you said my time is going to belong to you, huh. Is this whole moving in with you just a ruse to subject my life to your every whim? The terms of this contract are insanely unreasona—!”

“Well, I did say it’s my compensation,” Irene shrugs, “My compensation from you, Ms Son.”

What’s happening?!

“W-What do you mean?”

“Because I know who you really are.”

Seungwan’s blood runs cold.

S-She knows…? T-That can’t be.

Okay, calm down, Son Seungwan. She might not really know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ms Bae.”

“Don’t play the fool now, Ms Son,” Irene leans back as well, crossing her legs to mirror the blonde, “Or should I say… famous celebrity writer, Wendy Son?”

Seungwan sits up straight with a jolt, “H-How did you know?!”

“How could I not recognise the person who decided to hurt me?” The CEO answers, her soft gaze turning into a hard glare, “You entered my office without knocking. You call me ‘Ms Bae’ instead of ‘CEO Bae’. You didn’t bow. You weren’t surprised by my place and you act like you own it. Am I wrong?”

“You—”

“No, I’m not,” Irene cuts her off, “And you just confirmed it yourself.”

Seungwan facepalms internally. Okay, so I gave myself away by acting too quickly, but how is she that self-aware in the first place?

Wait, this isn’t the time to ask that. There must be some law that if creation meets its creator, there’ll be some kind of paradoxical error which could result in—

Wait, this is just a dream, right…?

Then all I need to do is to wake up.

She starts patting her cheeks lightly at first. It doesn’t work.

Come on! Come on!

She squeezes shut her eyes. She slaps her cheeks. Hard.

Ugh, it’s not working!

Again—!

Cold fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. Her eyes snap open and she finds herself staring right into the CEO’s eyes, their faces barely inches apart.

“Don’t hurt that pretty face of yours, Ms Son,” Irene coos patronisingly, “As your boss, I must insist you stop.”

The CEO leans in even closer. While Seungwan is tempted to pull away, it’ll only give Irene the impression that she’s afraid.

And she’s not afraid…is she?

“I should punish you…” Irene’s voice drops to a whisper, “But…what’s the best way, I wonder?”

“Just fire me!”

“Fire you?” The CEO scoffs, “Why would I do that? I just hired you.”

“Just let me go on my way, and you be on yours and we don’t have to cross paths ever again and—”

“If I fire you like that, what will people think of me? Either I’m fickle-minded or a poor judge of character. No can do, Ms Son.”

“Then why did you hire me?!”

“Why?” Irene releases her wrists, “Because I want revenge for all that pain you put me through. To think you’d walked right into my office just like that. Today must be my lucky day.”

Everything about the CEO drives her nuts. Then again, she can’t blame Irene. She did put her through hell in her writing. If this isn’t a dream, she wonders when that paradoxical error will come into play, now that her second lead knows who she is and is acting out against her.

“So, what are you gonna do? Kill me?”

“Kill you?” Irene laughs, “Can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but seeing how frustrated you look right now…this is far, far better than any of my initial plans.”

Seungwan stands up, “That’s it. I’m leaving.”

She’s about to step away when Irene grabs her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Where to?” The CEO tilts her head, “You seem to think that this is a dream you can leave, so you’ve tried. And you’ve failed.”

“So this isn’t really just a dream?” Seungwan asks, flabbergasted.

“Well, you just tried to slap yourself awake, didn’t you?”

Seungwan swallows thickly.

“Now…do you understand the situation you’re in?” Irene relaxes her hold on the younger woman.

I guess…the game’s up, huh. Seungwan sighs.

“What do you want…Irene?”

“Calling me by my first name? I’m older than you. And I’m your boss. Show some respect.”

“I created you.”

“And now you’re living in the world you created…which makes you a character just like me, don’t you think?”

Seungwan falls silent, unable to object.

“For now…” The CEO releases her hand, “You’ll do whatever I ask of you. Until I figure out your due punishment.”

Seungwan’s eyes dart around the house. There’s really no way out, huh?

“If you’re thinking of running away, you’re welcome to try,” her words dripping with sarcasm, Irene steps away from the younger woman and gestures towards the door, “Just know that I will find you again.”

Seungwan doesn’t need to see the older woman’s face to understand the hidden threat in her words.

I will find you and make your life a living nightmare.

“So, are you going to stay and do your job?”

With a defeated sigh, she nods, “Yes…Ms Bae.”

To say that she deeply regrets taking up the job as the Jewel Corp CEO’s secretary is a gross understatement. Her first night gives her enough hints to know that she will downright hate it. It’s 11.00pm when Irene tosses a pile of folders on the desk in front of her.

“Sort these out according to which ones require urgent attention,” the CEO says nonchalantly, as she hadn’t just entered Seungwan’s room without knocking late at night to dump work on her.

And it’s not even her first day.

The blonde scrambles to her feet, “W-Wait, how am I supposed to know which ones ar—”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“But it’s late!”

“So?” Irene remains indifferent to the younger woman’s plight.

“So?!” Seungwan is aghast, “We have to be at the office early tomorrow morning so I need rest to get us there safely.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll drive us.”

“But as your secretary, aren’t I supposed to dri—”

“As my secretary, you do whatever I tell you to do. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Seungwan sighs and returns her gaze to the ungodly amount of paperwork on her desk. It’s not like she hasn’t had her fair share of organising work, especially when she’d first started out as a writer. She hadn’t grown enough to have her own manager then, so she had to sort everything out on her own. Then again, she still hates the fact that Irene knows this well enough to use it against her.

“Whatever, it’s not like I haven’t done this before,” the blonde grumbles under her breath.

“Well then, all the best, Ms Son,” the CEO smirks, “I’ve only just begun after all.”

Seungwan’s eyes struggle to stay open as she stares out at the buildings passing by. It’s not long before she dozes off, her head resting against the car window. Suddenly the car jam-brakes and she finds herself thrown forward violently, her only saving grace being her seatbelt. Her eyes to fly open as she lets out a terrified shriek. She glances around wildly, only to realise she isn’t in any immediate danger.

She turns to glare at the culprit. Irene gazes back at her, expression smug.

“What was that for?!”

“For falling asleep on the job.”

“You insisted on driving last night,” Seungwan grounds out, “So remind me again how this is my job, Iren— Ms Bae.”

“Your job is to stay awake and keep me company, Ms Son.”

The blonde groans.

Today’s really gonna be a long day.

“Here’s your tea, Ms Bae,” Seungwan sets the teacup down on the glass table.

She makes a move to leave, only for the CEO’s voice to stop her.

“I didn’t say you could leave, Ms Son.”

With her back turned to Irene at first, the secretary rolls her eyes. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself to stay cool in front of the older woman, Seungwan forces a bright smile onto her face.

She then turns to face the CEO once again, “What else can I do for you, Ms Bae?”

“Do you see any issue with this?” Irene gestures towards her cup, “Because there’s one.”

Seungwan’s eyes dart down to the cup.

Nothing…out of the ordinary.

“…I don’t see the issue, Ms Bae.”

“You didn’t give me tea. You gave me hot water and a packet of tea. Does that not strike you as a problem?”

“All you have to do is open the packet and put the tea bag in the water, Ir— Ms Bae.”

“Precisely. That’s all you needed to do.”

Seungwan feels a feral kind of rage that she barely holds back. It doesn’t change the fact that she really wants to strangle the CEO though.

Irene sighs, “Sometimes…I wonder why I hired you.”

“Sometimes, I wonder why I created you,” the younger woman mutters under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“It better be,” the CEO regards her with suspicious eyes before pointing at her cup, “Well, what are you waiting for? Make the tea.”

One day I’m gonna spill it on you. Seungwan hisses inwardly as she reaches over to open the tea packet.

Just you wait, you stupid—

Irene takes the opportunity to seize her hand. The secretary nearly yelps. She looks up to meet the CEO’s sharp gaze.

“Take a little more pride in your work, why don’t you, Ms Son?” Irene’s voice is low and husky.

And she doesn’t miss the way the novelist shudders at her words.

Seungwan clears her throat and shakes her hand off. She proceeds to rip the tea packet and dump the tea bag in the cup haphazardly. She crumples the empty packet with shaky hands and exits the office hastily.

Irene smirks. This is a lot more fun than I expected.

Seungwan lets out a groan as she slams her tray down in front of her best friend. She drops down onto her seat and covers her face in exasperation.

Seulgi looks up from her food calmly, swallowing her mouthful of meat and rice, “That bad, huh?”

“She’s a monster,” the blonde grumbles.

“She can’t be that bad,” Seulgi tries to reason with her.

“It’s like everything in her ‘revolutionary’ workplace ethics framework applies to everyone else but me.”

Revolutionary because I wrote it. And I know she’s deliberately breaking it because she’s got a personal vendetta against me. But she was never supposed to go this low with anyone—

Two nameless faces flash in her mind.

Except for them.

A man and a woman. She recognises the man as the one who’d arrived shortly after her on the day of the interview.

And I took his place as her secretary, which means—

She freezes.

Oh no, no, no, no, no.

This can’t be happening!

“Hello? Earth to Wani!” Seulgi waves her hand in front of her frozen best friend.

Seungwan’s mind races.

The moment I said yes to her…the story changed and that’s why I’m—

Is that why I can’t leave?!

“Yah, Son Seungwan!”

The blonde snaps out of her thoughts and she stares at her best friend with wide eyes.

“Your phone,” Seulgi points at said device with her chopsticks.

Seungwan looks down, only to find Irene’s name lighting up her screen. With a sigh, she accepts the call. Irene’s stern voice greets her.

“Ms Son, to my office.”

“B-But I haven’t even started eating yet.”

“We have no time for that. There’s urgent business to attend to. Up. Now.”

The call ends.

Her grip tight on her phone, Seungwan lets her hand fall to her lap as she stares at her curious best friend in disbelief.

“You have to go?” Seulgi asks, feeling a little sorry for her.

Seungwan nods, her brows furrowed with irritation.

“In that case…” Her best friend pushes aside her tray, having finished her meal, and drags Seungwan’s tray over to herself, “Let’s not waste food.”

She starts digging in with vigour.

“Yah, Kang Seulgi!”

“Chill, I’m pretty sure she’ll take you out for a nice meal to some fancy restaurant after whatever business you have to attend to,” Seulgi waves her off, “To compensate for taking you away from lunch time.”

Seungwan doesn’t know who she wants to curse more. Whether it’s Seulgi for straight up eating her lunch the moment she gets summoned back to the CEO’s office or Irene for calling her up for the urgent business that is selecting her business attire for the upcoming board dinner the following two days from now. And a fresh set of files to sort. She glares at the stack of folders, wishing for them to burn.

Then maybe she’ll hurl the entire flaming pile at the CEO, who’s busy comparing two pantsuits of the exact same cut, except that one’s black while the other’s navy blue.

“So which one, Ms Son?”

The blonde looks at her with narrowed eyes, “You called me up from lunch for this? Really? Real mature of you.”

“I suppose black would be the more mature colour between the two,” Irene smiles and holds up the black pantsuit, “I’ll go with this then. Thank you, Ms Son.”

No words can describe how badly the novelist wants to slap the smugness off the older woman’s face. But before she can bring that fantasy to fruition, the CEO drops the blue pantsuit on her lap. Seungwan glances up, startled.

“Wear this one to the board dinner.”

“Why?”

“I can’t have you walking in dressed like that, can I?” Irene raises a brow, gesturing to the blonde’s current outfit, “They’ll eat you alive.”

Seungwan looks down at her cream-coloured button-up blouse and black pencil skirt.

What’s wrong with what I wear?

“Nothing wrong with it, I just want to remind everyone who’s in charge.”

“I’m just a secretary, Ms Bae.”

“You’re my secretary, Ms Son,” Irene counters without missing a beat.

“What does that mea—”

A loud growl interrupts her. She knows where it came from. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

The corner of the CEO’s lips tilts up, “Looks like your stomach’s questioning me too.”

Seungwan refuses to meet her eyes.

Irene lets out a light chuckle, “If you’re done asking questions, let’s go for lunch.”

Fancy restaurant, my ass. Seungwan feels a tinge of annoyance spike in her as she recalls her best friend’s words.

Irene had opted to eat at Hyeonsil House, a regular diner with the classic noisy atmosphere and all. She tries not to think of how she’d been the one to write the noodle joint into existence. Now, she just tries to focus her annoyance on the fact that the older woman had gone ahead and ordered for the both of them without asking the novelist what she wanted.

“The black bean noodles and spicy rice cakes here are the best,” the CEO had said after returning the menus to the owner.

“If you say so.”

Irene raises her brow, “You don’t look very happy.”

“You wouldn’t be either if you got dragged away from lunch to settle ‘urgent’ business that is your boss’ indecision over a black or blue pantsuit.”

“It was urgent business, Ms Son.”

“For you. Not me.”

“My business is your business, Ms Son,” Irene waves off her complaints dismissively, “Therefore, whatever I consider urgent will be urgent for you too.”

Seungwan growls and lurches towards the older woman from her seat, “You weren’t like that with him. At least, not at the start.”

Unperturbed by her secretary’s angry advance, Irene leans in until their breaths are mingling, “Well, you’re not him, are you?”

She notices the way the blonde’s pupils shake as she tries to maintain her glare.

Mesmerising… The CEO notes, as she stares into those warm honey orbs.

Seungwan feels a shudder run down her spine at Irene’s unwavering gaze.

No.

Don’t look at me like that.

A fresh wave of fear rears up within her, her mouth going dry. Any retort she has dies in her throat. She blinks and drops back down on her seat in defeat.

Just then, their food arrives, two piping hot bowls of black bean noodles and a plate of spicy rice cakes.

The elderly owner serving them greets Irene fondly, “It’s always so lovely to see you here, Irene-ah.”

“Of course, everything you cook is delicious as ever, Mrs Park,” the CEO smiles brightly.

“Oh you,” Mrs Park replies bashfully, before turning to Seungwan, “And who do you have here?”

“She’s my new secretary.”

“Oh! She’s really pretty!” Mrs Park pats the blonde’s shoulder affectionately, “Well, what’s your name, young lady?”

“S-Seungwan.”

“And you have a pretty name too!” The elderly owner beams at her, “Since this is your first time here, it’s on the house today!”

“Thank you for your generosity, Mrs Park,” Irene says, before nudging her secretary’s leg under the table with her foot, “Say thank you, Ms Son.”

“A-Ah, thank you,” Seungwan nods her head politely, caught a little unaware by the owner’s friendly gesture.

“Enjoy, girls,” Mrs Park bows and ambles away.

The novelist swivels her head to look at the CEO, “You brought me here knowing she wouldn’t charge you a thing, didn’t you? What a cheapskate.”

“Mrs Park is very kind like that,” Irene shrugs, “Besides, she’s been feeling a little lonelier nowadays since her only daughter moved overseas to work. I like paying her a visit every now and then.”

At the CEO’s unabashed admittance, Seungwan feels a little embarrassed for being too hasty in her assumptions. In her annoyance with Irene, she’d forgotten that the CEO had started out a kind, genuine character who had been good friends with Mrs Park’s daughter.

Before him.

Guilt flooding her, Seungwan wordlessly seizes her chopsticks and plucks a spicy rice cake from the plate. She stuffs it into her mouth and proceeds to mix her bowl of noodles haphazardly. Just as the secretary’s about to dig into her noodles, she notices the CEO’s eyes trained on her yet again.

She looks up and finds Irene’s lips pulled into a tight line, “What?”

“Who said you could start eating before me?”

Ugh, how old-fashioned. Seungwan dumps the noodles back into the bowl in annoyance, slamming her chopsticks down on the top of the bowl.

She leans back, folding her arms, “Fine. I’m sorry for starting before you.”

Irene leisurely picks up her own chopsticks and mixes her bowl of noodles. Staring her secretary down, she slowly brings a mouthful of noodles to her lips. She witnesses the novelist’s jaw clench, her face growing redder by the second.

The CEO finally takes her first bite.

She chews, almost languidly, revelling in her secretary’s annoyance.

“Calling your boss a cheapskate… You must’ve thought your first meal with me would’ve been at some fancy restaurant,” Irene chuckles after swallowing.

Seungwan doesn’t wait a moment longer and snatches up her chopsticks again. She proceeds to shovel the noodles into her mouth, fixing a glare at her boss. Amusement dances in Irene’s eyes.

It hits the novelist how it all just feels familiar.

Too familiar.

And Seungwan wishes she doesn’t know why.

8pm is a reasonable time to clock out, Seungwan reasons. But in her cruel fashion, Irene decides to bring back a whole lot more paperwork for the secretary to sort out. The novelist shouldn’t be surprised by this point.

“That’s your homework while I prepare dinner for the both of us,” the CEO had said.

At 8.20pm, the scent of smoke wafts into her room, drawing the blonde out of her work-induced stupor. She hears the older woman switch between loud swears and panicked yelps in the kitchen.

Is she in danger?!

Seungwan bolts out of her room, only to find the CEO in a kitchen swathed in smoke. She runs over to the stove, pulling the flustered woman away from the stove. She switches up the stove vent to its maximum and checks that every burner is off.

She lets out a sigh as she watches the smoke slowly clear up.

The novelist notices the source of the smoke and snorts, “You burnt soup?!”

Irene looks away, red-faced, “Shut up.”

“I mean, how do you burn seaweed soup? If you wanted homecooked food that badly, you should’ve told me. I can cook for us.”

“Not a chance.”

“Because you hate the idea of me being better than you at something?” The novelist smirks.

“No!”

“You can always order in.”

Beat.

“Go to your room, Ms Son.”

Seungwan scoffs in disbelief, “Are you sending me to my room? What am I, your kid?”

“To your room. Now.”

The younger woman rolls her eyes and is about to make a move when she pauses, “Also, you should probably invest in a smoke detector if you plan to cook in the future.”

Without waiting around for the CEO to scold her, she bounds off back to her room, shutting the door.

Irene glares down the corridor where her secretary had escaped. She picks up her phone and unlocks it with an angry flick of her thumb. She sighs loudly, hitting the number “3” on her speed-dial.

She lifts her phone to her ear, “Hello? Peek-A-Boo Pizza? Can I get a medium half-and-half with the smoky BBQ and meat supreme, and a…”

Irene tries to ignore the younger woman in front of her. The novelist is clearly trying to hold back a grin, but in the CEO’s eyes, it’s a terrible attempt. She sinks her teeth into the pizza, not meeting her secretary’s eyes.

“The delivery guy seems to know you well.”

Irene only grunts in response, cursing the pizza delivery man internally. Never have I ever wanted to kill the pizza man before…

“So you’re their regular, huh?” Seungwan reaches for a slice.

The CEO snatches the box of pizza out of her reach, glaring at the blonde.

“One more word from you, Ms Son, and you can forget about eating any of this,” Irene threatens, “You can go to bed starving for all I care.”

The novelist’s mouth instantly clamps shut. The CEO studies her silence for three seconds before tossing the box back on the table. Seungwan cautiously reaches for the same slice and plucks it from box, eyeing the older woman timidly.

The blonde takes a huge bite of her pizza. A mind-blowing mixture of flavours floods her mouth and her eyes widen in surprise.

Woah, this is unexpectedly the best pizza I’ve ever had?!

She takes another bite, her cheeks puffed up from the amount of food in her mouth.

“Mmh!” She meets Irene’s eyes, “Dhish ish gewd!”

The CEO almost laughs at how comically expressive the novelist looks, but holds herself back. She can’t go soft on Wendy Son. Not now.

Not ever.

“Can’t you eat with more grace?” Irene frowns at her, “Geez, watching you eat makes me lose my appetite.”

Seungwan ignores her, finishing her first slice in flash. She picks up two more slices, much to the CEO’s shock.

“I’m glad you ordered a half-and-half,” the blonde says, “Because I can do this.”

Irene watches with curiosity as the novelist flips one slice on top the other.

Seungwan holds up her creation, “You know this?”

The CEO is about to shake her head in response when she notices the younger woman’s eyes glint with mischief.

“Of course, you would know. You’re probably a pizza veteran at this point, given how often you order it,” the novelist remarks playfully.

Irene’s face turns red, “You—"

Seungwan grabs another slice and bolts from her seat back into her room, slamming the door shut.

“YAH, SON SEUNGWAN!”

Her back against the door, Seungwan sinks to floor, the three slices of pizza she’d kidnapped for dinner in her trembling hands. There are many ways she’d imagined the world of Falling and its characters would’ve been like, but this isn’t one of them. She’d never written Irene to be terrible at cooking, or that she would make a habit out of having pizza delivery and the like on speed-dial. The CEO had money, looks and power at her fingertips after all.

Such trivial flaws shouldn’t—

Her chest tightens.

It’s because of her…

She takes a bite of her three-layered pizza, hoping its phenomenal flavours will disperse her thoughts.

But it all tastes bland now.

And she wonders if she only has herself to blame.

Her second day of work passes by relatively faster than her first, bringing her to the third in the blink of an eye. Oh, how her third day drags. Two hours before the board dinner, Seungwan feels herself panicking. The pantsuit lays splayed out on her bed. It’s a simple pantsuit, so why does she feel like putting it on would come with a heavy set of responsibilities?

She picks it up, grimacing.

I can’t wear this. I can’t pull it off, I can’t—

The door suddenly bursts open. Seungwan lets out a shriek, dropping the pantsuit. Her explosive reaction meets a scream just as loud and shrill. The blonde looks up, stunned.

Irene stares back at her, eyes wide from shock, “W-Wha—?”

“Why didn’t you knock?! I could’ve been changing!”

“I did! Three times!” The CEO protests, “And I have what you have, so what’s the issue?!”

“O-Oh…”

Irene’s eyes land on the pantsuit, now a pile on the floor.

She picks it up, waving it in the novelist’s face, “Yah, why is this on the floor? Do you have any idea how expensive this is?!”

“S-Sorry,” Seungwan stammers, “I’m not sure I can pull it off, I—”

“You can and you will.”

Irene checks her watch for the seventeenth time since the novelist had entered the shower, pantsuit in hand. While waiting for the blonde, she had taken the liberty of changing into her own pantsuit. But it’s been forty minutes and Seungwan’s not out yet.

“How long more, Ms Son?” She calls out, impatience ringing in her voice.

“Almost—!”

The bathroom door swings open.

Seungwan greets her with a nervous smile, “Done.”

Irene does a double take.

She’d been sure that the pantsuit would fit the blonde well since they’re around the same height, but she didn’t think it’d fit her this well. It hugs the younger woman in all the right places, bringing out a rather flattering silhouette. She stands, admittedly a little shakily, to her feet.

“Y-Yah, what took you so long?”

“I was trying to figure out how to wear it,” the novelist offers weakly, “I’ve never owned a pantsuit before.”

“You d-don’t own it, I-I’m just loaning it to you for the n-night!”

“Whatever you say,” Seungwan turns to look at herself in the full-body mirror, slipping her hands into her pockets, “It looks good on me, I guess.”

It…does. The thought invades Irene’s mind.

She shakes her head, trying to get rid of it.

The novelist seems to notice her reaction and rolls her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I know. Still not as good as you, Ms Bae.”

That’s not what I—

The CEO glances at her secretary.

Am I…going soft?

I can’t.

No. I won’t.

“That’s because your face doesn’t match,” Irene quickly pipes up.

Seungwan whips around to face her, offended, “Sheesh, wow okay, I get it. Didn’t have to come in hard like that.”

“I’m talking about make-up, dumbass,” the CEO beckons her secretary over, “Come here. I’ll do it for you.”

“Eh?” The blonde points at herself, “M-Me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?” Irene glances around, before returning her gaze to the novelist, “There’s only one dumbass in this room. And it’s certainly not me.”

The younger woman clears her throat and walks over, stopping in front of the CEO, who holds up her make-up pouch, “Ready to be transformed?”

Twenty minutes later see the CEO adding the finishing touch to her make-over for the blonde. The tip of her eyeliner hovers over Seungwan’s right eye shakily.

“Stop blinking,” Irene grounds out.

“I’m trying to!” Seungwan whines, “Do I really need that much eyeliner?!”

The CEO grips her face with her free hand to hold her still, “Shut up and let me finish that wing.”

Irene comes closer, finally planting her eyeliner on the younger woman’s eyelid. The action is enough to alert the novelist of how close they are, with the older woman’s breaths brushing her skin. It’s an innocent thing. Seungwan knows that. But their proximity scares her all the same.

She really wishes she doesn’t know why it makes her heart hammer in her chest.

Or why her eyes hurt all of a sudden.

“Are you crying?”

The novelist blinks her tears away, “What? No. No, I wasn’t.”

“Huh, I could’ve sworn I saw tears,” the CEO retracts her drawing hand, examining her handiwork with proud eyes, “Perfect.”

“Perfect because you almost made me cry jabbing eyeliner in my eye or because the eyeliner looks perfect when you’re the one who drew it?”

Nice save, Son Seungwan. The blonde releases the breath she’s been holding.

“The latter, of course,” Irene remarks confidently, “You better not cry, Ms Son. Don’t waste my efforts.”

It takes Seungwan the whole car ride to psyche herself up for the board dinner. Her hands balled into fists on her lap, she does her breathing exercises, drawing in deep breaths and releasing them slowly.

The CEO glances at her, “Nervous?”

“…A little.”

“Remember when you first barged into my office?” Irene asks, her eyes returning to the road ahead, “Where did all that bravado go?”

“That’s becau—”

I did that because I knew she was a character I created.

I created the board like I created this world.

They may not know me, but I know them. I don’t have to be afraid.

“I see you’ve remembered.”

“You know,” the novelist turns to look at the CEO, “I’ve come to realise I’m the equivalent to a god in this world. I mean, I created everything. But you don’t treat me like one.”

“Just because you created this world doesn’t mean you’re in control,” Irene answers, “You can’t leave as and when you want, for one.”

“You’re right,” Seungwan realises with a jolt.

She leans her head against the window in distress, “If they find out… Ugh, I’m screwed.”

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“Eh?”

“I’m the only one who knows. That you’re the creator. That you’re…powerless,” the CEO explains, “And I plan to keep it that way.”

“Because you want to be the only one to screw me over as revenge.”

“You hit the nail right on the head, Ms Son.”

“CEO Bae, lovely to see you once again,” the elderly man reaches out his hand.

Seungwan studies his face. That’s…

Irene gives his hand a firm shake, “Same here, Director Baek.”

Director Baek... Her mind races to remember his character.

One of few good eggs. He was Irene’s mentor when she first took over the reigns as CEO.

And he’s like a father to her.

When her father wouldn’t be a father.

Just a distant stranger.

Baek turns to the blonde by the CEO’s side, “And is this beautiful lady your new secretary?”

“Yes,” Irene nudges the younger woman, “This is Secretary Son.”

Seungwan dips her head in polite greeting, “Hello, Director Baek.”

“Thank you for taking good care of CEO Bae, Secretary Son,” Baek bows.

“U-Uh, this is only my third day,” Seungwan stammers.

Baek flashes a warm, fatherly smile at her, “A day, a month, a year… No matter how long it’s been, thank you for looking after her.”

“Please, I’m the one looking after her,” Irene cuts in, looking a little annoyed, “She’s staying under my roof now.”

“She’s staying with you?” Baek raises his brows in surprise, before letting out an amused chuckle, “Looks like Secretary Son really has to take care of you after all.”

“Hey!”

Baek ignores the CEO, “Secretary Son, if it’s possible, please make sure she eats her meals. She tends to forget when she gets so deep into work. And don’t let her order in too much. A homecooked meal once in a while would be good, even though she can’t cook to save her life.”

Seungwan sniggers. Irene throws her a warning glare. The blonde immediately stops and returns to her solemn face.

“I will do my best, Director Baek,” the secretary bows her head once again.

The board dinner had gone as expected. Seungwan doesn’t want to admit it, but she has Irene to thank for it. The CEO’s brief pep talk in the car had helped her breeze through her first meets with the entire board, now that she’d remembered she could always look at them as characters she’d created.

There had been one or two members of the board who’d seemed shady at first, directing their leering gazes at her. But armed with her power pantsuit and sharp make-up, she’d returned their stares with a glare turned deadly of her own. They cower, averting their eyes.

On the bright side, she had had an enjoyable time chatting with Baek and several other members of the board who’d seemed genuinely interested in her story. Courtesy of what she’d seen in her room in the house where she’d lived with her family, she’d effortlessly cooked up a backstory about her identity, not exaggerated that it’d be an obvious lie, but impressive enough that they would be compelled to respect her calibre.

“Great acting back there,” Irene remarks, “I almost couldn’t tell between truth and lie.”

“Hmmm… A truth like you ordering some form of takeout every day or…a lie, like you knowing how to cook?”

“How badly do you want to get fired?”

“You can’t fire me,” the secretary points out, “You’re keeping me around for a reason, aren’t you?”

Beat.

“To cook,” Seungwan adds, amused by the way the CEO’s head swivels to glare at her.

Irene tightens her grip on her steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. She feels her cheeks flush with warmth. While it had strangely pleased her to see the younger woman get along well with her mentor, but, she notes with chagrin, that it had greatly emboldened the blonde.

The CEO draws in a sharp breath, “No. To make your life a living hell.”

And make Seungwan’s life a living hell she does. For the next three months, Irene fills the novelist’s days with unreasonable tasks and ridiculous requests. And each day, when Seungwan wants to give up and call it quits, she learns new things about the older woman that somehow convince her to try and stay for another day longer.

Like the way how Irene’s cheeks would lift cutely whenever she’d smile secretly to herself, amused by Seungwan’s quiet grumbling.

Or the way stars would be born in her eyes each time she’d laugh at Seungwan’s expense.

And the way she’d flash her perfect white teeth after pissing Seungwan off with yet another ridiculous task again.

Waking up in every morning, Seungwan wishes to the heavens and back that she doesn’t know why these reasons are enough to compel her to stay.

And lying in bed every night, she feels a sharp ache bloom from her chest reminding her that maybe…this is what she’d chosen right from the start.

It scares her, that between her draining secretary life and the heartbreak that assaults her every day, the latter is her greater hell.

It’s disconcerting really, when the CEO sees the way her secretary drags herself to work every day, eyebags and all. She still has spunk, Irene will give her that, but she’ll admit it’s a little unsettling to see those once bright eyes now dull. At first, she chalks it up to the lack of sleep, so the older woman subtly cuts back on the gruelling work she has the novelist do.

Even then, through careful observation, she can still sense an air of tiredness hanging about the blonde. So when Seungwan exits her room carrying her baby blue canvas backpack on a Sunday that the CEO has quietly resolved not to touch for the sake of keeping her secretary alive, Irene regards her with a curious look.

“Where are you going, Ms Son?”

“A-Ah,” the novelist seems to startle, turning to face the older woman, “I’m meeting Seulgi for lunch.”

Irene stands, striding over to the blonde. The younger woman stumbles back a step. The CEO frowns.

Why does she seem afraid of me? I haven’t done anything.

Yet.

“You look tired,” Irene gestures at the novelist’s eyes, “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Rest can be in many forms, Ms Bae,” Seungwan answers tiredly, “Today, mine is catching up with my best friend over a meal.”

“Not if it’s going to put you out of commission, Ms Son,” the CEO folds her arms, narrowing her eyes, “I’m not allowing you to go.”

The novelist blinks at her, “Excuse me?”

“You must be so tired that even your ears aren’t working well,” Irene feels a little befuddled as to why the blonde looks offended, “I said I’m not allowing you to go meet Ms Kang.”

“It’s my off-day, Ms Bae,” Seungwan’s voice is icy, “I choose how what I want to spend it.”

“Section 5 of our contractual agreement, Ms Son.”

“What?”

“If you won’t listen to me, maybe it’s time to have a performance review about how you’re managing your job with your life.”

Something in the novelist snaps. She whips around to face the CEO fully, her fists balled tight by her side and her skin prickling with rage.

“WOULD YOU JUST LAY OFF FOR ONE DAY?! JUST ONE?! I BEG OF YOU, PLEASE! JUST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS OF NOT MAKING ME FEEL LIKE A WORTHLESS SACK OF SHIT, IS THAT GOING TO KILL YOU?!”

Stunned by the younger woman’s fury-filled outburst, Irene takes a step back. She sees how the blonde’s lips tremble from screaming at the CEO. Irene doesn’t understand why, but the sight of tears streaming from Seungwan’s reddened eyes pierces her heart like she’d never experienced before.

“Y-You…”

The novelist refuses to stay any longer, storming out of the house. The door slams behind her. Irene stares at the shut door, a mixture of guilt and regret filling her.

Maybe I took it too far.

“You look worse for wear.”

“Good afternoon to you too, Seul,” Seungwan greets her best friend with a tired huff as she settles down opposite her.

“You should’ve told me,” Seulgi sighs, “We can always meet another day, when you’re more well-rested.”

“Then I’m afraid that day will never come.”

Seulgi frowns, “If she’s over-stepping, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” The blonde takes a sip of her bubble tea and sets it down, “Scold her? Threaten her? Fight her?”

Her best friend flounders, “W-Well—”

“Relax, Seul,” Seungwan shakes her head dismissively, “She’s not over-stepping. I just haven’t slept well as of late.”

The memory of her raising her voice at her boss flashes by for the thirtieth time since she’d left the house like a whirlwind. She buries her face into her hands.

I even screamed at her.

Stupid Seungwan! Stupid!

She’s gonna kill me when I get home later.

Maybe I don’t want to go home then.

Wait.

Home?

Since when did that place become home?

“What’s troubling you?”

The blonde snaps out of her thoughts, “Mm? N-Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”

Seungwan groans, “Seul…”

“Sounds like you’re going through a lot of things that it’s easier to say it’s nothing,” Seulgi pats her head comfortingly, “But don’t worry. Maybe you’re not ready to talk about it yet. And that’s okay. I won’t pressure you. Just know that I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”

“Seul?”

“Yeah?”

“Just for today, could you distract me from all my sadness?”

Seulgi sends her a soft smile, “Anything for you, Wani.”

It’s nearly midnight. Irene waits impatiently on her couch, her arms folded. Her leg bounces anxiously as she checks her phone again. No call. Not even a text from the novelist. She worries her lower lip.

Should I call?

Is she safe?

Wait, why do I care?

“Because tomorrow’s a work day and she isn’t home yet,” the CEO isn’t sure who she’s trying to convince, “She’s being irresponsible.”

She pulls up the younger woman’s contact and hits the call button. Eight rings later, she’s about to end it when she hears a click and someone answers.

“Hello? CEO Bae?”

Irene frowns. That’s not…

“Who are you? Where’s Ms Son?”

“It’s me, Seulgi. I mean, this is Ms Kang? She’s with me, uh—”

“Do you have any idea how late it is?!”

“Woah, woah, look, I’m sorry,” Seulgi sputters out, “We’re just outside your door.”

Just then, her intercom beeps. The CEO bolts over to it to check. She sees her secretary, her arm slung over Seulgi’s shoulders. Her eyes widen.

Is she drunk?!

Seulgi glances into the intercom camera, Seungwan’s phone pressed to her ear, “Um, CEO Bae? Could you open the door please?”

Irene hums disapprovingly and stalks over to pull open the door. Seulgi greets her with a sheepish look and Seungwan… Well, Seungwan just looks out of it.

The CEO approaches the pair, pulling Seungwan away from the taller woman. The novelist stumbles into her. Seungwan mumbles drowsily. Seulgi stares after her best friend, worry flooding in her eyes.

Irene wishes she can’t relate, but she does.

“She’ll be fine,” the CEO reassures her, “I’ll make sure she’s up and running tomorrow.”

“About that…”

Irene raises a brow, “What?”

Seulgi meets her eyes, slightly nervous, “She’s been really down lately… You wouldn’t happen to know why…would you?”

“Other than the fact that she had to nerve to yell at me before going out this afternoon…no. No, I don’t.”

“Ah…” Seulgi looks down as if in deep thought, her brows furrowed, “She must be really stressed. Wani hates shouting.”

“Didn’t seem like it. Those lungs seem really used to it.”

Seulgi glances up, her lips drawn into a tight line, “That’s not true. Sure, she shouts when she’s excited, but never when she’s upset.”

“And you’re telling me this because?”

“I care about her,” Seulgi declares, “For the best friend who would always set herself aside to make others happy, I want to protect her. When she won’t protect herself.”

“So what you’re saying is—”

“I’m asking you not to hurt her anymore.”

“I’m not—”

“I don’t know what you did or what you said to her that would make her explode like that. That would make her sob while singing Red Velvet’s ‘Happiness’ at karaoke. That would make her break down like this after two shots,” Seulgi interrupts her, “When I asked her, she said you weren’t over-stepping. But I know a Seungwan lie when I see one. I know it’s you. You’re the one making her like this.”

“You have a lot of nerve accusing me like that, Ms Kang,” Irene raises her proverbial hackles, “Have you forgotten where your pay check comes from?”

“Threaten me all you want, CEO Bae,” Seulgi returns boldly, “Fire me if you want too. It won’t change the fact that I’m gonna stick by her side till the end.”

The CEO stares at her for several moments, pondering over the strange situation’s she’s found herself in. With her drunk secretary and protective best friend of said secretary. She could just take Seulgi’s word for it and fire her for the disrespect. But she would only be proving her right.

Funny how pride works.

Irene lets out a resigned sigh “It’s late, Ms Kang. Go home.”

Seulgi blinks, having not expected such a response.

“I’ll make sure she’s alright,” the older woman continues, “I’ll give her another off-day tomorrow, if that makes you feel better.”

“You’re not…firing me?”

“Why? Do you want me to?”

“N-No,” Seulgi dips her head, “Thank you, CEO Bae.”

Irene waves her off, “Off you go.”

A sober, spritely Seungwan, as Irene recalls vaguely, can be a handful. But a drunk Seungwan is a greater handful. The blonde clings to the CEO, getting tears and snot all over the older woman’s shirt. Irene tries not to think about how close they now are, and how she isn’t annoyed by it in the slightest bit.

It does fluster her, however.

“Yah, Son Seungwan,” the CEO tries to pry the novelist’s hands off her, “Don’t dirty my shirt.”

“Joohyun-unnie…”

Irene freezes, “Who’s…Joohyun?”

“Are you kidding me?” Seungwan slurs, looking up at her, “You… You with your beautiful eyes… You’re her.”

Just as the older woman’s about to inquire more about this “Joohyun” with beautiful eyes like hers, the blonde loses all strength to hold herself up and leans her full weight against the CEO.

“W-Woah!” Irene steadies the both of them, her hands instinctively reaching to grab the younger woman by the shoulders.

She eventually manages to shift their bodies so she can sling Seungwan’s arm over her shoulder. She walks the drunk novelist to her room, and sets her on the bed gently. The blonde flops down with a groan. Irene rolls her eyes and starts rummaging through the younger woman’s wardrobe, pulling out a random set of PJs.

She walks back over and dumps it on her, “Get changed.”

The novelist doesn’t move a muscle.

“Yah, Son Seungwan,” Irene kicks her foot.

All she gets is a stubborn grunt from the blonde.

The CEO lets out an annoyed huff.

Looks like I don’t have choice.

Ten minutes of struggling later, Irene finally tucks a fully-changed Seungwan into bed, feeling exhausted from having to wrestle the drunk woman into a fresh set of clothes.

She turns to exit the room. Now, for those hangover cures…

She feels a warm hand wrap around her wrist, stopping her. She looks back to find Seungwan staring at her with tearful eyes.

“Joohyun-unnie…” The younger woman begins, her lips trembling as her tears begin flow, “Don’t go…please. Don’t leave me behind, please…”

The utter pain in Seungwan’s voice knocks the wind out of her. The air in the room grows thick, suffocating her.

What should she do? What can she do?

Irene exhales hard through her nose, “I’m…not going anywhere.”

“Okay…” A soft sigh escaping her lips, Seungwan is out like a light.

Her hand falls back by her side on the bed. Irene’s eyes rest on the blonde’s sleeping face for a moment, before she remembers that she’d been meaning to prepare Seungwan’s hangover care. She shuffles out of the room, casting one last lingering glance at the novelist.

Seungwan wakes to a late morning with a splitting headache. She winces as she sits up, her head throbbing painfully. Her stomach lurches. Her eyes dart down to the floor and she finds a bin, perfectly positioned by her bedside. She promptly empties whatever remains in her stomach into the bin. Once the nausea ebbs away, she draws in shuddering breaths as she rests her arm on her bedside table. It takes a while for her to notice the bottle of water and packet of painkillers on top of it.

She pops two pills into her mouth and gulps it down with a mouthful of water. Feeling her head calm down, she plucks her phone off her table and shoots a text to her best friend.

[Seungwan: Remind me to never drink ever again.]

[Seul: Good morning to you too, Wani.]

[Seul: Did you just wake up?]

[Seungwan: Yeah…]

[Seul: Seems like CEO Bae kept her promise.]

[Seungwan: What promise?]

[Seul: That she’d give you an off-day today.]

[Seungwan: She did?]

[Seul: Yeah, when I sent you home last night. She called you just as we reached your place.]

Seungwan feels her blood run cold.

She called?

She pulls up her call log and to her horror, realises that the CEO had indeed called her. At 11.58pm.

And she’d picked up.

She quickly hits the call button on Seulgi’s name. Her best friend picks up within a second.

“Wani? Is everything alright?”

“When she called…did I say anything stupid or dumb or—”

“Calm down, Wani,” Seulgi chuckles good-naturedly, “I was the one who picked up. You were too drunk to.”

Seungwan curses herself internally.

“Anyway, don’t worry so much. You really better take this off-day off, you hear me? I fought hard for it.”

“What…do you mean you fought for it?”

Beat.

“I may or may not have talked back to CEO Bae when she threatened my pay check for calling her out on the way she’s been treating you.”

“Seul—”

“Hey, I got you an off-day, so no complaining,” her best friend cuts in, “Gotta go now, bye, Wani!”

“Kang Seul—!”

Click.

That idiot… Seungwan pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

Her phone starts to vibrate with a call, startling her. Her eyes widen when she realises who’s calling.

She quickly picks up, “Yes, Ms Bae?”

“Ah, Ms Son. You’re awake. Look, I nee—”

“I’ll grab a taxi and be there in—”

“No.”

Seungwan pauses, “Eh?”

“Today’s your off-day, Ms Son. Don’t come in to the office.”

“O-Oh,” the novelist stammers.

“As I was trying to say just now, if it’s possible, stop by Hyeonsil House later. Mrs Park could use some company. Today’s her daughter’s birthday, so she must be feeling a little lonely. I would, but I’m busy today. Can you do that for me?”

Seungwan feels a sense of nostalgia warm her heart at the older woman’s words, “Of course. That’s very kind of you, Ms Bae.”

Beat.

“I have to go now.”

Seungwan takes a deep breath, “Thank you, Ms Bae.”

A momentary silence hangs between them. Seungwan heard the CEO cough slightly.

“It’s nothing to thank me for, Ms Son. I expect you to work twice as hard after today, you understand?”

“Noted, Ms Bae.”

It’s 2pm when Seungwan arrives at Hyeonsil House. She pushes through the thick plastic flaps of the entrance. The small diner is empty. Her eyes land on a lone Mrs Park sitting by the cash register.

Ah, she’s alone. I wonder where everyone else is?

Mrs Park glances up and scrambles to her feet, “Ah, Seungwan-ah! What a sight for sore eyes!”

“You…remembered my name, Mrs Park?”

“Of course, such a pretty name for such a pretty face! How could I forget?” the elderly lady pulls her over and sets her down at one of the tables, “Are you hungry? What do you want to eat? I’ll make it for you!”

“Well…” The novelist scans the worn menu on the wall, even though she already knows what she wants, “Spicy rice cakes and black bean noodles sound about right.”

“Ah, Just like the first day you came! I’m alone today, so give me about twenty minutes, I’ll make sure it’s—”

“Actually, Mrs Park, if it’s alright with you,” Seungwan stands back up, “I’d like to cook with you.”

“Hmm? You want to cook with me?” Mrs Park tilts her head, “Did Irene put you up to this? Aye, that girl…”

“No, no, she didn’t put me up to anything,” the blonde waves her hands in refusal, “She seems to really enjoy your food, so I thought it’d be nice to learn how to cook some of her favourite dishes so we don’t end up ordering takeout so often.”

“How sweet and considerate of you,” Mrs Park smiles warmly at her, “Irene is truly blessed to have you, Seungwan-ah.”

The novelist quietly returns her smile, following the elderly owner into the kitchen.

Eight hours pass by in a blink of an eye, but of the time she’s spent in Falling, she finds this day to be the most refreshing of them all. Even though she ends up taking orders from the few customers who come in over the course of the day, as well as helping out in the kitchen, Seungwan finds that it fills her with more hope than she’s ever seen in a while.

Mrs Park’s an angel, she reckons, as she shares their specially-prepared sweet-and-sour pork and tofu seafood stew with the elderly woman.

Mrs Park places a spoonful of tofu in her bowl, “Eat up, Seungwan-ah. You’ve worked hard.”

“A-Ah, thank you,” the blonde nods gratefully, before picking up a clam and placing it on top of the elderly woman’s rice, “You too, Mrs Park.”

The action suddenly leads the elderly woman to bow her head. Her shoulders start to shake. Seungwan hears her start to sob softly.

The novelist leans in, concern filling her, “…Mrs Park? What’s wrong?”

“I miss her so much, you know? My daughter,” Mrs Park admits tearfully, swaying on her seat as she cries, “When you eat with me like this, I’m reminded of her.”

Seungwan reaches out and squeezes the elderly owner’s shoulder comfortingly, “I’m sure she misses you too, Mrs Park.”

“You think so? She hardly calls home nowadays. Even once a month doesn’t work for her anymore.”

“That’s because she’s busy working hard so she can take care of you in the future,” Seungwan reassures her with a gentle voice.

“You sound like you know my daughter really well, are you friends with her like Irene too?”

The novelist freezes.

Crap.

Quick, Seungwan. Think!

“I’m—” Seungwan swallows nervously, “Irene told me a lot about her. And…I’m my mother’s daughter too, so I guess I know how your daughter must feel.”

Mrs Park wipes her tears with the back of her hand and picks up her chopsticks, “Thank you for sharing a daughter’s heart, Seungwan-ah. Sorry for crying in front of you like that.”

“Please don’t apologise, Mrs Park,” she smiles softly at the elderly woman, “And if you’ll have me, I’d love to come and cook with you every now and then.”

The owner nods enthusiastically, “Anytime, Seungwan-ah.”

Just then, her phone buzzes with a message.

[Ms Bae: I just wrapped things up at the office. Are you home?]

[Seungwan: I’m having dinner with Mrs Park at Hyeonsil House.]

“Is that Irene?” Mrs Park’s eyes sparkle, “Has she eaten dinner? I’m sure she hasn’t. Ask her to come and have dinner before you two go back.”

“Okay,” Seungwan nods.

[Seungwan: You haven’t had dinner right?]

[Seungwan: Mrs Park’s asking you to eat something before we go.]

[Ms Bae: Alright.]

Fifteen minutes later find Irene entering the diner past the plastic flaps. She greets Mrs Park with a smile, who in turn, gives her a tight hug. The CEO glances up to find Seungwan looking at her softly. Her secretary averts her eyes upon contact. Irene raises a brow but says nothing.

“Come, come,” Mrs Park releases Irene and pulls her to the table where Seungwan is seated, “Seungwan here has been helping me all day with the cooking and serving.”

“O-Oh, did she?” The CEO casts the novelist a questioning look.

Seungwan pretends she doesn’t see Irene looking at her.

“Yes, such a hardworking girl you’ve got, Irene-ah. She even said she wanted to learn how to make your favourite dishes so you don’t have to order takeout so much. Such a sweet girl, really. Make sure you treat her well, alright?”

“You took the off-day I gave you…to work for Mrs Park…” Irene hums as she leans her head against the window on her hand, with her other hand on the steering wheel, “Isn’t that considered moonlighting?”

“Only if I’m doing it secretly and if I’m getting paid for it,” Seungwan smiles, “Besides, spending time with Mrs Park…it was refreshing for me.”

“Sounds like today went a lot better than yesterday.”

The novelist’s smile immediately fades.

Not noticing the drop in the blonde’s mood, the CEO continues, “So what made you decide to come home at 12am, almost blackout drunk and sputtering nonsense at me while crying such that I had to give you an off-day today?”

“If I may ask, Ms Bae…” Seungwan turns to look at the woman next to her, “What…nonsense might I have…sputtered last night?”

“You called me Joohyun,” Irene answers without missing a beat, “She must be older than you, since you said ‘unnie’ too. Hmmm…you called my eyes beautiful. That they’re hers.”

The younger woman feels her stomach tighten to the point where she feels like throwing up.

“I can’t blame you for liking my eyes, but…” the CEO casts a side glance at her passenger, “Who’s Joohyun? How is she as pretty as me? And what’s she to you…that she can make you cry like that?”

She’s my everything.

The love of my life.

My pillar.

My…heart.

“She…was a close friend of mine,” Seungwan directs her gaze outside the window as she quietly replies, “She’s far away now.”

“…I see.”

Had it been a month or two ago, she might not have made the distinction and would’ve just taken the novelist’s word for it. But as she feels the blonde draw back into herself, she realises what Seulgi had meant by a “Seungwan lie”. She rubs her thumb against her bottom lip in frustration.

The fact that she won’t tell me the truth… Why does it make me so angry?

Furthermore…

She tightens her grip on her steering wheel.

Why does it hurt?

A week later is what Seungwan would call the revolutionary turning point in the story.

“Cancel the appointment at 4pm and move the rest of the meetings up.”

The secretary looks up from her clipboard, pushing her glasses back up, “You mean for tomorrow?”

“No. Today.”

“Shouldn’t you give them at least a day’s notice?”

“Sometimes I want to see who desperately wants their business proposal greenlighted.”

Seungwan’s grip on her clipboard tightens.

This isn’t how I wrote you.

You were supposed to be kind, Irene.

“And look where that kindness got me,” the CEO remarks coldly.

Seungwan blinks.

Did I say that out loud?

“You still had to have me lose out, didn’t you?”

His face flashes in Seungwan’s mind.

The blonde shakes her head, “Good people don’t always win.”

“You’re right. They don’t,” Irene’s expression turns stony, “So make those calls and get back to me when you’re done.”

Forty minutes later, Seungwan returns, looking rather drained. She pulls back her shoulders and straightens her back. Irene must not see her tiredness. She can’t give the CEO any more ammunition to use against her.

Irene turns to face her, “So, pray tell…who wanted the greenlight?”

The blonde clenches her fists, “…All of them.”

The CEO lets out a satisfied hum.

“Good. Now call them back and cancel those meetings.”

“What? That’s too much, Irene!”

“It’s Ms Bae to you.”

That’s it. Seungwan’s anger finally gets the better of her and she snaps.

She slams her hand down on the CEO’s table, “No, you listen here, Irene. If you hate me so much for the way I wrote your story, go ahead and take it out on me. But don’t drag these innocent people in.”

“Oh, so they count as people now, huh?” Irene rises to her feet, glaring icily at her secretary, “Where was that sentiment when it came to me? Did I count as a person to you too?”

“Irene—”

“No, I didn’t,” the CEO jabs her finger in the blonde’s shoulder, “I didn’t count. Not to you.”

Seungwan’s lips tighten into a straight line as she feels a sting of guilt. The silence hangs heavily in the air between them.

“They don’t have any backbone,” Irene finally speaks up, “I refuse to work with such people until they learn to have some self-respect and stand their ground. That’s why I told you to cancel those meetings.”

“Just because they’re willing to accommodate you doesn’t mean they don’t have any backbone, Irene,” Seungwan’s voice comes out pleading, softer, “I’m sure you know this. So please don’t take it out on them.”

Irene’s chest heaves and drops as a sigh escapes her, “Fine.”

The writer lets out a breath that she doesn’t know she’s been holding, “Thank you.”

“I’m still taking it out on you though.”

“That’s fine,” Seungwan offers her a tight smile, “Makes things easier for me.”

“Why?”

“If you start being nice to me, I think I’d find it hard to leave when the time comes,” the novelistanswers, “So keep being cruel to me, Ms Bae.”

Something changes that day. Irene swears it must be because of what the novelist had said to her. It’s been two hours and she’s still tossing and turning in her queen-sized bed. Her mind replays those words yet again.

“So keep being cruel to me, Ms Bae.”

Ha, that’s how they get you. With reverse psychology.

But she recalls with clarity how there hadn’t been a hint of sarcasm in the younger woman’s voice then. In true genuineness, her secretary had really meant what she’d said.

When she says it like that, how can she expect me to continue? It’ll be so…awkward.

She groans in frustration and buries her face into her pillow. She had started this with the intention to make the writer regret everything she’d made her go through. But now, she feels like she might’ve bitten off more than she could chew with the enigma that is celebrity author Wendy Son.

“You were supposed to be kind, Irene.”

Son Seungwan… Irene digs her fingers into the plush softness of her pillow.

“I’m sure you know this. So please don’t take it out on them.”

“Fine.”

The CEO clenches her jaw.

Does that mean she still has control over me till the very end?

“If you start being nice to me, I think I’d find it hard to leave when the time comes.”

Her heart skips a beat as those words race though her mind. She clutches at her chest, terrified of the familiarly painful yet somewhat foreign, fluttering sensation inside her chest.

Don’t leave.

Seungwan can’t sleep. When she closes her eyes, she can only see the look on Irene’s face when she’d told her to keep being cruel. The CEO had looked askance, while the corners of her lips had tilted down in guilt.

Did I just set myself up for more trouble?

She lifts a hand to her chest, drawing in deep breaths. She pats her heart with all the assurance she can muster.

Whatever she comes up with, I can handle it.

She feels a familiar pain echo within her heart, calling out to her.

I’ve been through worse.

And I’m still going through it.

She smiles as she feels her eyes water painfully.

Maybe the only way I can leave is if she gets what she wants.

The next morning finds the CEO lounging on her couch trying to read a novel she’d received as a parting gift from Yoona, before the secretary had left.

When the only barrier to your relationship is yourself… How lucky. Irene feels a sense of bitterness bubble up inside her.

Having two identities though… She snorts.

What a stupid thing to lie about in the first place.

She’s been stuck at page 298 for God knows how long, re-reading the words over and over almost mindlessly. Her gaze keeps straying from the book to corridor, wondering when her secretary will wake up and leave her room.

She frowns.

Wait, why do I care?

As though her thoughts are a summoning spell, the object of her musings finally exits her room, looking rather exhausted. Irene regards her with a look of concern.

No, of curiosity.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought I made you work the entire night.”

The blonde casts a tired glance at her, “That’s what you made me do on my first day, remember? Heck, it wasn’t even my first day.”

Without another word, the writer makes her way to the kitchen. She fills the kettle with water and turns it on. She then proceeds to scour through the cabinets. She pulls out a tin of English breakfast tea leaves.

“Remind me again why I decided to write you as a tea kind of person,” the writer grumbles as she dumps two teaspoons of leaves into the infuser, “Ugh, the lack of coffee in this house…”

“Wow, I don’t hear much of a peep from you about the other things I’ve asked you to do, but you’ll complain about not having coffee.”

“It’s a staple in any writer’s life,” Seungwan answers as she begins to pour the hot water into her cup.

She watches brown bleed through the infuser into the clearness, “It’s our life blood.”

“I’ll get some for you later then.”

Seungwan pauses mid-pour. She sets the kettle down and looks up, peering at the CEO through her glasses with stern eyes.

“Ms Bae, did you already forget what I told you yesterday?”

“What do you mean? Forget what?”

“Don’t be nice to me,” the writer smiles, “Remember?”

Oh. That. Irene feels her hands turn a little clammy.

“Who said I was being nice to you?”

The younger woman raises a brow, “Really? You, a notorious coffee hater, just offered to buy coffee for your secretary whom you hate very much.”

“It’s because I can’t have my mule die from not having enough coffee, no? Life blood and all,” Irene raises herself from her lying position.

Seungwan chuckles, “So I’m not even your secretary anymore but your mule?”

“Yeah. Though for the record, I don’t actually hate you. I don’t like you, but I don’t hate you either.”

The writer rolls her eyes and stirs her cup quietly.

“So…I’ve been thinking about it for a long while now, but I just can’t figure it out,” Irene continues, “I already have money, looks and power… What can you possibly give me that’ll hurt you the most?”

Seungwan regards the CEO’s words carefully, her tired mind surprisingly keeping up well. They trigger her memory of her discussion with Sooyoung before she’d ended up in Falling.

“She needs love.”

Seungwan doesn’t know why, but an ache begins to sprout from her chest.

If that’s what she really needs, then…

Seungwan gulps, her throat tight, “Love.”

Irene pauses, “…What was that?”

“You have everything but love.”

“Yah, you—"

“Tell me, Irene,” Seungwan fully turns to face the CEO, “If giving you love will hurt me the most, do you want it?”

Irene stares at her, expression unreadable. Seungwan isn’t sure why she’d said that, but she can’t take it back now. So she holds the CEO’s gaze, willing herself not to falter. Her hand falls to her side, fingers counting down the silence.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

“I’ll take it,” Irene finally answers, “Since you offered.”

The CEO stands and stalks over to her secretary, who backs away instinctively. But Irene is quicker, and in a split second, she has the blonde trapped against the kitchen counter. Seungwan struggles to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

“So this…love of yours,” Irene whispers, reaching to tuck a lock of platinum blonde behind a reddened ear, “How does it work?”

The novelist’s eyes fall to the book on the book under the other woman’s hand before looking back up, her cheeks feeling warm.

“That novel you’re reading…” Seungwan begins, “By Chan Naegwa. Let’s do that kind of love.”

“You mean the lies and running from each other kind?”

“No, the I’d-forget-myself-for-you kind,” the younger woman finds it hard to talk with her heart in her mouth, “The I’d-die-for-you kind.”

“Don’t die for me, Ms Son.”

“That depends if you have any enemies who want you dead, Ms Bae.”

“My only enemy is you.”

“But I don’t want you dead.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about,” the CEO smiles, “But tell me…is there space for the kind of love I want as well?”

“What kind of love do you want, Ms Bae?”

Irene’s eyes dart down to the blonde’s lips.

What does she want? Seungwan holds her breath.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Sev—

Whatever restraint Irene tries to retain dissolves.

“This kind,” her words come out more like a breath than a whisper this time, as she dives in and captures her secretary’s lips in a deep kiss.

The unprecedented move sets Seungwan’s mind on high alert and she almost jolts away. But the CEO’s right hand grips her hip while the other rests on her neck, pulling relentlessly at the blonde’s lips with her own. The soft lushness of the younger woman’s lips sends Irene’s mind into a frenzy. She presses even closer against Seungwan, an otherworldly kind of aggression building up inside her as she increases the intensity of her attack on the blonde’s lips.

In her passion, the CEO doesn’t even remember the man the novelist had written for her to long for. All she sees and all she feels is the woman in front of her who gasps into their kiss like she’s never been kissed before. Like it’s her first time.

Irene smiles into the kiss.

Everything. I’ll take it all.

Seungwan feels her fighting spirit slowly weaken as she feels the CEO’s lips move against her hotly. Never in her life had she imagined she would fall into that cliché trope of forbidden passion between a secretary and their boss. Then the older woman’s hands are reaching under her T-shirt and—

“Wait—!” Seungwan startles from her touch, breaking the kiss and pushing her away, “Too fast.”

The CEO stares at her, mildly offended.

It’s scary, the things Irene’s eyes do to her.

“Let’s take it slow,” she scrambles to explain, “Love builds slowly, Irene.”

The CEO seems to accept her explanation. The older woman takes a step back, though the disappointment remains clear on her face. Seungwan isn’t sure what comes over her—whether it’s because of those eyes or that face that an absolute “no” feels impossible.

She reaches out to grab the CEO’s sleeve. Irene meets her eyes with curiosity. Seungwan tugs her in, wrapping her arms around the older woman. It’s weird how the span of several minutes can really change things. She’d never really thought she’d crave the CEO’s body against hers like this.

Although she’s mildly confused, Irene isn’t complaining. A hug like that feels just like a promise of Seungwan’s kind of love. She hesitantly reaches to wrap her arms around the blonde’s waist.

The novelist rests her chin on the CEO’s shoulder and lets out a sigh, “Let’s begin here.”

Seungwan counts with her breaths.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

“Hey…” Irene feels her cheeks warm up a little, “Can you…say my name again?”

Beat.

“Irene,” Seungwan calls to her quietly.

She hears the CEO’s breath hitch.

“Again.”

Seungwan feels her heart ache at how soft the older woman sounds. Like they actually stand a chance. Like…they can go on forever.

“Irene,” she calls again, her voice trembling this time.

The older woman tightens her hold on her. Seungwan buries her face into Irene’s shoulder, wishing that her warmth would melt away the creeping tendrils of pain inside her chest.

Irene doesn’t want to be dramatic, but the only way she can describe life after that unexpectedly sacred moment between them is that her world turns on its side. It terrifies Irene how one moment in time can change her. How it can tame her so easily. She can no longer find it in herself to bully the younger woman at every turn.

She secretly thanks the heavens it’s their off-day, because they can take their time learning Seungwan’s kind of love. The exchange-of-soft-smiles-when-they-occasionally-meet-each-other’s-eyes kind. The buckling-up-of-seatbelts-for-each-other kind. The bicker-over-what-brand-of-coffee-to-buy-in-the-supermarket kind.

When Seungwan had said that love built slow, Irene almost begs to differ. Because how can she not fall quickly, when the younger woman suddenly takes hold of her hand, not daring to look at her as they wait for the light to turn green? How can she not, when she sees a hint of a shy smile tugging on the blonde’s lips and knows it’s meant for her and no one else? In that one moment, she forgets where they are—that they’re in the car, waiting at the traffic light.

The horn from another car startles her out of her Seungwan-induced daze and she realises the light is green and the car in front of her is already long gone. Seungwan’s hand releases hers. Irene clears her throat and rests her hand on the gear shift as she steps on the gas.

She tries not to miss holding Seungwan’s hand too much.

Late in the afternoon, Seungwan busies herself in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. There are many ways to show love, she reckons. Ever since she’d seen Irene try to cook seaweed soup, she’d been filled with pity at the CEO’s sad attempt. Especially even more so when the older woman had resorted to ordering pizza, her dejection clear in her slumped shoulders and furrowed brows.

After all, love can be found in a home-cooked meal.

She gets lost in the world of mentally planning the steps in her recipe that she doesn’t notice the blade of the kitchen knife coming closer to her finger before it’s too late. She gasps as she releases the knife, her eyes locking in on the growing bead of blood from the cut in her finger.

In a split second, Irene is at her side, having abandoned her book on the coffee table in the living room. She grabs the blonde’s wrist and pulls her towards the sink, turning on the tap. She brings the younger woman’s injured hand under the running water, watching it wash away the red. Once she’s satisfied, she turns off the tap and grabs a paper towel, carefully dying the area around the cut.

“Wait here,” Irene commands before striding off.

She doesn’t notice the way Seungwan stares after her.

She returns with her first aid kit. She sets it down and opens it, fishing through it for the band-aids. She finds a box of it and plucks one out.

With experienced fingers, she peels away the paper backing, “Finger.”

Seungwan holds out said finger, “You seem used to this.”

“With band-aids? Yes,” Irene gently wraps the band-aid around the blonde’s finger, “You’d be surprised how many paper cuts I’ve gotten and how annoying some of them can be.”

“As a writer, I can relate,” the younger woman chuckles.

“You laugh at me for being bad at cooking yet here you are,” Irene clicks her tongue, “I’m starting to doubt your claims of being a better cook than me.”

“Hey! I’m sure I am!” Seungwan protests.

“Well, as long as you don’t hurt yourself again.”

Irene isn’t dumb. She knows internet slang. She’s familiar with millennial humour. She only needs to pull up Urban Dictionary forty percent of the time whenever she stumbles across an unfamiliar term. So when Seungwan casually suggests that they can “Netflix and chill” after dinner (and yes okay, she’ll admit that Seungwan is much better cook than her), she’s a little startled.

Didn’t she say she wanted to take it slow? Isn’t she coming on a little too strong?

They’re three episodes into Hotel del Luna and Seungwan hasn’t made a move. Irene grows a little impatient. She casts a side glance at the blonde on her right, only to find her completely taken in by the show. She shifts a little closer, preparing to lean in and go for another make-out session, only for her plan to be foiled when Seungwan turns to look at her, grinning.

The novelist has the audacity to laugh at Irene as she points at the screen, “You and Jang Manwol are literally the same person.”

As the CEO turns to her, ready to fire back, her retort dies in her throat.

Because damn.

That laugh.

That smile.

She returns her attention to the screen. After all, if she scolds the blonde now, she’d only be proving her right, she reasons. Still, at the back of her mind, she wonders if Seungwan has been teasing her the entire time, trying to get her to make the first move.

But she should’ve known better, because as they enter the fourth episode, she feels a weight suddenly drop on her shoulder. She nearly lets out a shriek, but covers her mouth the moment she remembers it’s just Seungwan. The novelist’s eyes are closed, her head resting on the CEO’s shoulder, soft breaths leaving her lips.

Irene finds herself torn between annoyance and amusement. On one hand, Seungwan had meant “Netflix and chill” quite literally. On the other, she had meant “Netflix and chill” quite literally.

But seeing the way peace settles on the blonde’s features, she opts for the latter.

“Seungwan?” She calls as softly as she can, careful not to shock the woman awake.

She doesn’t get a response.

Irene instinctively reaches to run her fingers through platinum blonde. It stirs the novelist awake.

“Mmh?” She drowsily lifts her head from the CEO’s shoulder, though her eyes struggle to open.

“You’re tired. We should sleep,” Irene says quietly as she makes a move to stand, “Come, up on your feet.”

“Mm, okay,” the blonde gets up obediently.

Irene takes hold of her hand and tugs her along gently, leading her down the corridor. She’s about to enter her room when she feels the blonde stop in her tracks.

“My room’s the other side, Irene.”

“I know,” Irene turns to face her, “But I want you in my bed tonight.”

The younger woman’s eyes snap wide open, her cheeks immediately flushed red, “Wait, what? That’s—”

“That’s not what I meant, stupid,” the CEO laughs, flicking the novelist’s forehead, “Don’t lovers share beds and cuddle sometimes?”

“W-We’re not l-lovers—”

“Yet,” Irene interrupts her, “Love… I want to do it all. With you. For now, just be my 40.8 degrees personal heater.”

Seungwan’s face reddens even more, much like a ripe tomato, “In that c-case, I’d b-be in the h-hospital, n-no? T-That’s a really high f-fever.”

“Seeing how red you look right now…seems like it,” the CEO smirks and pulls the blonde into her bedroom as her room door clicks shut behind them, “Perfect.”

It’s three months of bliss. Eighty-seven days to be exact. From sneaky kisses in the office to movie dates to late-night suppers at the convenience store to Netflix binges at home, Irene gets to do it all with her. They invite Seulgi in for game nights, through which the blonde’s best friend gives plenty of ammunition to the CEO for use against her girlfriend. They even manage to make a date of their business trip to Austria.

Eighty-seven days until Irene takes her hands in hers as they laugh over dinner in Hyeonsil House.

Eighty-seven days until Irene tells her she doesn’t want Seungwan to hurt from being the only one loving anymore.

Eighty-seven days until Irene says to her, with sincerity sparkling in her eyes, “I love you.”

Eighty-seven days until Seungwan realises maybe she doesn’t want to leave after all.

And eighty-seven days until Seungwan’s reminded that nothing good in her life lasts forever.

Because the very next day, after the CEO’s genuine confession to her in the diner, a very familiar envelope materialises on her desk. Addressed to her, her name is beautifully etched onto its pure white surface in a handwriting she can recognise anywhere.

With trembling hands, she picks it up. Tears blur her vision. She swallows painfully, her throat tight. She tries to blink them away, but it only sends them down her face in steady streams.

“Seungwan!”

She hears her girlfriend call for her from the kitchen. She quickly dumps the envelope into her dustbin, wiping her tears away with the heels of her palms shakily.

Her door creaks open as Irene peers in, “Seungwan?”

The novelist sniffs and looks up at her, “Hey, Irene.”

The CEO steps into the room and embraces her sobbing girlfriend, “Why’re you crying?”

The blonde buries her face into the older woman’s shoulder as she grips at her shirt. She starts to bawl.

Irene quietly caresses her head, her heart breaking at the sound of Seungwan’s cries.

What…

Her gaze falls to the open dustbin below, locking onto the envelope. She doesn’t need a closer look to know it’s a wedding invitation. And she doesn’t need to open it to know who it’s from.

After all, there’s only one person who can make her Seungwan cry like that. She tightens her grip on the novelist.

Joohyun.

During dinner, Seungwan is despondent. Having lost her appetite, she can’t bear to eat more than four bites of the spicy rice cakes Irene had made.

The CEO sighs, placing her chopsticks down, “This is about that Joohyun of yours, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s n—” Seungwan pauses mid-lie when she notices the way Irene looks at her.

Like Irene knows.

No. I won’t lie to her.

I promised her a love of no lies.

No running away.

The blonde draws in a deep breath and nods, “It’s her.”

“Last time, you said she was just a close friend who’s far away,” Irene starts gently, “She’s more than that, isn’t she?”

“She’s…” Seungwan squeezes her eyes shut as she starts listing all that Joohyun is to her, “She’s my…everything. The love of my life. My pillar. My heart.”

The CEO winces at the sudden sharp ache in her chest from the blonde’s confession.

Silence hangs in the air between them for several drawn out moments until Irene speaks up again, her voice low, “And who…am I?”

“Y-You’re…” Seungwan’s lips begin to tremble once again, “You’re her…if things had been different.”

“Is that why you wrote for me to lose him? Because you couldn’t bear for me— For her to be with someone else?”

“Irene, I know it was really selfish of me, I—”

“I knew, Seungwan.”

The novelist’s guilty gaze snaps up to meet the CEO’s eyes.

The older woman reaches for her hands and cradles them gently, “Yes, you were selfish, but you still chose her over yourself in the end. That’s why you could only write. And you wrote Falling.”

Seungwan’s eyes shimmer with tears.

“But I was selfish too, Seungwan,” Irene gives her a watery smile, “Even after realising who Joohyun was…and in turn, who I am… I kept you here, in this world where happiness is fleeting because I’m not real.”

“Irene, please—” Seungwan shakes her head, “That’s not—"

She falls apart.

Irene is by her side in a flash.

“I don’t want to go, Irene.”

“But you have to, Seungwan,” the CEO wipes the blonde’s tears away with her thumb, ignoring her own that have begun to fall from her eyes, “Though…for one more night. Just stay for one more night. Let me love you my way.”

The novelist nods tearfully.

Irene leans in and captures her girlfriend’s lips, filled with sad desperation. Seungwan allows the older woman to pull her up. They stumble into Irene’s room, where the back of Seungwan’s knees collide with the bed. They descend the spiral of tearful kisses, short breaths and hot, bare skin pressing against each other, as their hearts shatter inside their chests.

The next morning, Seungwan wakes to Irene drawing gentle circles on her shoulder. The older woman trails a line of kisses from the back of her neck to her shoulder. The novelist turns in her arms and their eyes meet.

Seungwan feels like crying again.

“I can’t leave you like that, Irene.”

“You can,” Irene tucks a lock of hair behind her ear lovingly, “You have a life to return to, Seungwan.”

“You waited so long for someone to love you and—”

“And she loves me.”

“But—”

“Seungwan,” Irene sighs softly, “Without love, we hurt. But with love, we also hurt. Either way, it will still be a sad ending. Even then, knowing that you chose to love me all the same…that’s more than good enough for me.”

“After I leave? What will happen to you?”

“That’s for you to decide, isn’t it, Seungwan? You created me after all.”

The novelist’s mind races.

“I’ll rewrite Falling. Our story. Without anyone from my world. No Joohyun. No Seulgi. No me.”

Beat.

“You’re trying to make me forget you.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want anyone else, I just want you, Seungwan!”

“Then ask me to stay. Tell me not to open that envelope. Tell me to trash it. Burn it. I don’t care. Just. Tell me to stay.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“If I keep my name, I’ll remain in your memories and you’ll only hurt,” Seungwan cups Irene’s cheek, “So just this once, let me do right by you and give you your happy ending.”

“But Seungwan—”

“It’ll be selfish of me, but it’ll be a story I can look back and smile upon,” the novelist continues, “The story that will help me find my peace. That will help me move on from hating myself. That will remind me I can heal. And because of you, I can finally heal.”

Two hours later, they’re standing in the middle of the living room, wrapped in each other’s arms. Their imminent goodbye draws closer by the minute. Seungwan tightens her grip on the envelope in her hand.

Irene lets out a shuddering breath as she pulls away a little to rest her forehead against Seungwan’s, “Won’t you…let me keep a part of you with me till the end?”

“Even when you could get hurt? Again?”

“Even if I could get hurt again.”

Seungwan sighs, “But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“If it’s you, I don’t mind.”

Seungwan doesn’t know what to say. She fiddles with the envelope, peeling back the seal flap with stubbornly stiff fingers.

“Seungwan.”

The blonde stops.

“I love you,” Irene whispers as she presses a kiss against the novelist’s lips for the last time.

They pull away reluctantly, just as Seungwan fully opens the envelope and pulls out the invitation card. It begins to shine in her hand, growing brighter with every second. She counts with a heavy heart.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Oh, how Irene’s face glows.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

She buries her face into Irene’s warmth.

Eight.

Nine.

She feels Irene tighten her hold on her.

Ten.

“I love you too,” Seungwan cries as brightness shrouds them.

Her vision turns pitch-black.

Seungwan’s eyes snap open and she sits up, chest heaving painfully fast. She’s back in her study, at her desk, where her laptop remains on and a pile of manuscripts sit on her right. She rubs her eyes and glances around. Sunlight filters into her room through her translucent curtains.

It’s…already morning.

Irene is nowhere to be seen. As if it were possible, the pieces of her shattered heart fracture even more. She clenches her fists, doing her best to hold back from another crying session. Her teary gaze swivels to her screen, pouring over the words. Her eyes widen in shock.

It’s like it rewrote itself.

It wasn’t a dream. Everything, Irene, Mrs Park, Jewel Corp—

They were real?

She slumps back against her backrest, befuddled, “How did I—?”

Her phone buzzes with a call.

It’s Sooyoung.

She picks up.

“Rise and shine, Seungwan-unnie!”

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Um,” Seungwan bites her bottom lip as her emotions threaten to overwhelm her, “I feel like I slept for ages, but it also felt very short.”

“That’s because you were tired,” her manager remarks, “But it sounds like you got proper sleep this time.”

The novelist rolls her shoulder, feeling the painful knot in her shoulder. She hisses.

Not…really.

“So about Falling—”

“It’ll be ready by the deadline.”

“I was thinkin— Wait, what?!”

“I figured it out, Sooyoung.”

“You figured what out?”

Seungwan’s thoughts travel back to Joohyun. To Irene.

“What was missing in Falling. And the ending I want.”

“…W-Wow, that’s great news, Seungwan-unnie! I guess I can leave you to it then?”

“Wait!” The novelist pipes up, “There’s one more thing I need your help with…”

As her call with Sooyoung comes to an end, Seungwan reaches into her waste bin and picks up the envelope. With a resigned sigh, she opens it and pulls out the card, unfolding it to read.

You are cordially invited to

the wedding of

Bae Joohyun

and

She doesn’t bother to read the rest and folds the card, stuffing it back into the envelope. She doesn’t have to force herself if she isn’t ready.

“Won’t you…let me keep a part of you with me till the end?”

“Even when you could get hurt? Again?”

“Even if I could get hurt again.”

The novelist returns her attention to her new manuscript. She raises her hands and rests her fingers on her keyboard. Against her better judgment, Seungwan wonders if it’ll be selfish of her to write herself somewhere into the narrative.

The novelist stares dazedly as she watches the love of her life walk gracefully down the aisle, draped in a pure white gown. An elegant veil hides her face, but Seungwan has every feature memorised since day one.

The way her cheeks would lift cutely whenever she’d smile at Seungwan in greeting.

The way stars would be born in her eyes each time she’d laugh at one of Seungwan’s stupid jokes.

The way she’d flash her perfect white teeth after playing a successful prank on Seungwan.

Seungwan remembers.

All too well.

How unfortunate that she’ll lose all of those moments to the past now. And one day, perhaps…she’ll find the strength to lock all these memories away and toss the key away for good.

It breaks her heart seeing Joohyun glow like that, yet she can’t afford the strength to overcome her gloom and be happy for her. She wants to be able to genuinely congratulate Joohyun on her marriage, but she can still taste the terrible bitterness on her tongue. And just like she’d memorised most things about the older woman, so had Joohyun memorised most things about her.

Like how her smile isn’t really a happy one because her eyes are dull and tired from crying so much.

Their eyes meet for a split second as Joohyun passes her by. It sends a painful jolt through her. She looks away. She reckons she doesn’t have the heart nor the bravery to undergo Joohyun’s caring scrutiny. Though by showing up at the wedding in the first place, she supposes she’s set herself up for it.

Once.

Just once more.

And it’ll be over.

She wills her tears to wait.

They can wait.

Until no one’s watching.

“Congratulations on yet another comeback with your new novel, Seungwan-ah!”

“Thanks, Joohyun-unnie.”

“It’s called Falling, right? I’ve heard good things about it!” Joohyun’s bright smile turns apologetic, “Unfortunately, I haven’t had the chance to read it yet.”

“That’s okay, you’ve been so busy with wedding preparations after all,” Seungwan nods in understanding.

“I promise to read it once everything’s settled down!”

The novelist inhales sharply, “Actually…I’d rather you didn't.”

Joohyun frowns, “Why not? You worked so hard on it…”

“It won’t be to your taste,” the younger woman shakes her head, “I’d rather you only read the things that make me look like an amazing author in your eyes, not some sad fever dream.”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“Except it is.”

“Now, why are you saying that about your own work— Oh.”

Seungwan feels her throat tighten painfully.

“Oh, Seungwan…” Joohyun reaches for her arm.

Seungwan shifts her arm away before the older woman can touch her.

“I’m going back to Canada. For good.”

Joohyun freezes. Seungwan starts counting again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

“W-Why, Seungwan? All of a sudde—”

“It’s been a long time coming, Joohyun-unnie.”

Joohyun’s eyes are pleading, “If yo—”

“Let’s not talk about the ‘what ifs’, Joohyun-unnie,” Seungwan’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she struggles to keep smiling, “Don’t tempt me to change my mind. Don’t make me look back and miss what I ought to leave behind. Don’t try to make me stay, because I know I will if you just…ask. That’s how pathetic and fickle-minded I am. So don’t.”

Without waiting for a response, the writer steps back and bows to the bride, “Congratulations on your joyous union.”

Seungwan turns away. She can’t bear to look at the one whom she’d loved (and still loves) for a long time. So as she strides out of the banquet hall with the bravest face she can muster, she hopes Joohyun doesn’t see her tears fall. She hears the older woman call her name.

She keeps walking.

Away from her.

Only when she’s out of sight does Seungwan allow whatever bravado that had held her heart together crumble, leaving behind shattered pieces in the void that is her chest.

“Without love, we hurt. But with love, we also hurt. Either way, it will still be a sad ending.”

Those words couldn’t ring any truer for her.

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