Chapter Text
There are many ways to identify when oneself is in an unfortunate situation, or bluntly, is (very, very) screwed.
Some completely unrelated examples are:
- When your assface of a friend renames your harmless and innocent, but very personal files so that it has the same title as your product analysis documents for work.
- These harmless, innocent and personal files replacing your product analysis that was not backed up.
- Accidentally uploading these harmless and innocent and personal files (which is really just your slideshow of dog pictures – very well formatted and converted to PDF) onto the company’s server.
- The international server.
Jung Hoseok is (fairly put) well and truly screwed.
Even to himself, in his head, screwed was an understatement. He was well and truly and royally screwed. Majorly screwed. Screwed on a large scale.
He had worked on these documents for hours on end, just to make it to the deadline. And now?
Gone. Just because of some assface (or assfaces actually, this was a planned, team sabotage) he calls friend and a dog powerpoint. (Okay, there were a lot of very cute dogs on that presentation, but really? A literal doge collection? Not cool.)
Under normal circumstances, the head of department would usually give him a time extension where he could possibly get someone to illegally hack work their way into the cloud and retrieve his files, but keyword: normal.
Okay so the chief never really liked him anyway, and okay yeah maybe there was one time he almost presented an observation on puffins instead of profit, and also maybe, perhaps he put salt instead of sugar in one of the higher ups’ coffee (that was also well and truly an accident).
And yeah, all in all, he wasn’t expecting a pat on the back and a gold star or anything, but certainly wasn’t expecting to get fired. (even if he was a little glad)
It was already embarrassing enough as it is, being asked to pack and leave on the spot – in front of all his co-workers too! (There was this one cute girl down in editing he was positive has a thing for him. Well, had, before today anyway.)
So here is, with a small cardboard box filled to the brim with his personal resources, free pens from the office and stuff of the sort, sitting in the window seat of a little coffee shop, an empty soy latte cup between his teeth and his phone charging from the power outlet in the wall. (Leeching off the free power. The electricity bills gotta lay low for now.)
11:35 , FROM: You TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , Kim Tae
Come to coffee shop in 15mins aight I know ur both free don’t try and stall
11:36 , FROM: You TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , Kim Tae
We need to talk
11:36 , FROM: You TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , Kim Tae
OkAy im lonely
11:38 , FROM: You TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , Kim Tae
Also ples respond???? Texting takes me credit u know @.@
Honestly, in a way he’s kinda glad to have gotten away from the office. It was strung tight by the director with a hectic sense of urgency every single day, and despite Hoseok’s (pretty damn prime, if he does say so himself) social abilities, he had very few close friends, and it was a fact that humans are social creatures, they can’t stay alone. (or maybe that’s just him)
Then again, it is pretty lonely at this little corner table for two. It’s near the window, but the ledge on the roof covers the sun, so only a single sliver of light hits his area. There’s no more coffee left to warm him up from the inside, and his phone is stiller than ever.
11:51 , FROM: You TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , Kim Tae
YALL ARE BEING RUDE AS HECKERS I STG
“Sir? Would you another order?” He hits send just in time to see a particularly pretty barista comes over to him, also looking particularly apologetic.
“Oh no,” he says. “I’m fine, just waiting on –"
Oh.
“If - if you think I’m being stood up, I’m not.” He says quickly, smiling with what he hopes is a sincere one.
“But I will take three more mango frappes, thanks.”
And so he waits.
11:51 , FROM: You TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , Kim Tae
YALL ARE BEING RUDE AS HECKERS I STG
11:59 , FROM: Kim Tae TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , You
Heckers lol whats that? Like checkers? I have a checkered shirt
12:02 , FROM: Kim Tae TO: Too (Min)y Cheeks , You
I mean we’re otw now love u hyung
“No thanks.”
Somewhere in the middle of town, Namjoon sits back down onto his chair, shuffling around to find a comfortable position. It’s one of the nice, padded ones with wheels, but for some reason, everything just feels stiff today.
“Your father s-”
“It doesn’t matter what he says. I don’t need a.. another secretary.” His voice shakes a little. He’s not afraid (not anymore), but he hopes it isn’t evident anyway. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Young master,” a second man speaks up again. “We were sent to notify you. Not to reason with you. Applications are being received as we speak.”
“But-”
He's interrupted without the chance to counter. “Your first batch of interviews begin tomorrow at eleven. The details will be forwarded to you.” Without even a reassuring glance, Namjoon watches his father’s men retreating. Backs turned, a familiar sight, really. Walking away. From him.
They did, however, leave behind a stack of profiles. Cover letters and applications that have already been sifted through and hand-picked, a lot of times weeded out not because of lack in ability, but family background and current income.
He knows he can trust the judgement of his staff, but sometimes, Namjoon wants the upper hand. Not just a title to flaunt and the power to order around, the right to be in charge on his own. He doesn’t want a filtered and dressed version of authority that has already been seen through. He wants to be trusted to manage on his own, without aid. Someone to listen to him as he is, not because of position or fear, but because of loyalty, of trust.
Is it too much to ask for?
(He knows the answer anyway.)
“You.” Hoseok is awakened to a voice in his ear and a sudden jab in his neck.
“You, you table hogger.”
He sniffs.
Taehyung’s face is at, well, quite a close proximity right now. Maybe a bit too close.
“Wh—”
“YOU COFFEE LOUNGE LIZARD.” Jab. “LINGERER – Don’t even try to interrupt me – YOU TABLE POTAT—ow,”
A smug little grin forms on Hoseok’s face as he sees him being dragged back by the collar. “Jimin,” he breathes, almost too affectionately, “My saviour.”
“What’s up?” Said person swipes a stray lock of orange hair out of his eyes, a slight smile on his face.
Hoseok’s eyes flicker down to the table. Three empty frap cups.
“You.” It’s Tae’s turn to suffer this time. “You stole my drink. You-you eggplant.”
After some time of (childish) quarrelling and the explanation of the current situation, the trio sit at the table, with three new drinks (bought by Taehyung, of course) and a seat dragged over from one of the other tables to accommodate the third person.
“I’m—”
“Don’t apologise.” Hoseok says quickly. “I wasn’t really happy there anyway. You guys did help me out, in a way.”
Though they’ve been assured, there’s no denying the downcast looks on the pair’s faces.
“Hey, I didn’t drag you two here to vent at.” He says. “Of course I want you to help out.”
“As much as I’d like to,” Taehyung speaks up. “I don’t have enough money to pay your rent, sorry man.”
Hoseok facepalms.
“You don’t have to,” he grumbles, peeking out from the gap between his fingers. “You know what I can do. Find out if any of your pals need someone in my field or something. I can do a little managing and advertising. Some design, maybe - I mean a have a degree - but I’m sure there’s someone.”
“No,” Jimin says matter-of-factly. “I don’t think there is.”
But Tae perks up. “Yo,” he says, a hint of excitement in his voice. “I might know a guy.”
So here he is now, a lone figure of a man standing in front of a huge, huge building with a sign that reads Golden Inc in cursive. It’s fairly tall with a lot of windows.
‘It’s only their headquarters, the Korean branch’ Tae had told him earlier over the phone. ‘They have like, a bunch of hotels. My second uncle’s the boss’
He was amazed that this wasn’t the hotel itself, but being told otherwise, he steps into a slot of the rotating glass door and walks his way into the foyer.
The layout of the place is pretty straightforward. There’s a line of elevators near both sides, where he walks toward.
Before Hoseok presses anything, three people – two women and one man– step out of the elevator.
He squints after them, all in suits and dresses - probably interviewees. Without a second thought, it’s off to the third floor.
After the familiar ding of the elevator, Hoseok walks to a set of double doors.
There are already two other people waiting, and once they see him, one of them knocks on the door.
The door swings open, and a middle-aged female stands expectantly on the other side, lips painted red, looking unnervingly like blood.
"Come in," she says.
He does.
They are led to a room where there are three chairs placed in front of a table, where the interviewer sits. The three applicants gingerly take a seat, and the interview begins.