Chapter Text
Nam-gyu was, in all senses of the word, most likely high as of now to even be considering this decision. His mouse cursor stared at him incessantly, blinking over the Send button.
“He isn’t a fuck with dementia?”
Se-mi, draped across his spinning chair while Nam-gyu sat with fingers curling through tufts of his hair with his laptop on his bed, the other person in the room who had to have been equally, if not more high out of her mind, to allow Nam-gyu to continue with this idea. She screwed up her face at that. “You’re acting as if you don’t know him.”
“But I don’t know him know him,” Nam-gyu pointed out. “Just answer the question.”
“...What was the question?”
“ Oh my – he’s not a fuck with some kind of dementia, is he?”
She shook her head sagely, as if it was a shame. “No.”
“You’re not lying to fuck me over, are you?”
A loud groan followed as she swiveled in her chair to a few full rotations before steadying herself in front of Nam-gyu, only to crack and let out a snicker. “That would’ve been pretty funny. But why would an old fuck with dementia get into the rap or music industry in the first place?”
Nam-gyu gave it some thought and snorted after a moment of consideration. “Yeah, okay. What about a workplace predator?”
“Nope.” Se-mi popped the p on that.
“An obnoxious narcissist?”
“Like you aren’t.”
“Some serial killer moonlighting as a musician?”
“I’m not sure if that’s how moonlighting works.”
“Okay, a serial–”
“ Nam-gyu ,” Se-mi groaned out, leaning backwards and folding her arms. “He’s a good guy.” She seemed to rethink her words as her face scrunched up, and ceded, “he’s not a complete asshole. Even if he was, the chances of you getting hired are pretty damn low.”
“Same company that hired you ,” Nam-gyu pointed out.
Se-mi waved the thought aside. “Eh. At least I go to college. Either way, just because I resigned doesn’t mean – if you get hired – that you’re automatically gonna fill that spot. That’s, like, not how businesses work, and shit,” she murmured out. All of her points would be pretty damn logical if it weren’t for the slurred tone her words carried instead of proper enunciation.
Nam-gyu stared blankly at his laptop screen, moving the cursor away for a second. “Yeah.” He stared at the infuriatingly bright blue-light screen. “Why am I doing this again?” He muttered.
“Ugh, because you need to pay rent instead of leaving Dae-ho to do it,” Se-mi groaned out, slapping him lightly. “You know I don’t like when he’s sad, and you don’t either. He’s like a kicked puppy.” Her hand slung lazily against Nam-gyu’s shoulder. “For Dae-ho, ” she said dramatically, shaking Nam-gyu’s shoulder with the longer she drawled out the name.
Nam-gyu muttered some choice words under his breath in annoyance, but she raised a valid point about the money. Clicking his tongue, he slid his cursor back over the Send button and clicked it.
There.
“ There you go!” Se-mi exclaimed, grabbing ahold of both of his shoulders and gently rocking him back and forth. It felt oddly maternal due to her excitement being tampered down with the weed… alcohol… What was it he took?
“Yeah.” Nam-gyu took the wire-frame glasses off of his nosebridge and closed them with a snap. As he shooed Se-mi out of his bedroom – because he obviously wasn’t going to subject his roommate to their cryptic late-night discussions, he wasn’t that mean – Nam-gyu let himself to close his laptop and lie down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arms folded across his chest, lying on his back. It felt oddly similar to lying in a coffin. Was this symbolism for his job application killing him?
It was just an assistant job, he had to remind himself. The company that oversaw the managers and clients in the first place was relatively well-known, though perhaps this specific branch or manager covered some underground artists. Regardless, it was a well-known – and pretty damn successful – business to be running, and even if they hired Se-mi – whatever lies she must’ve put on her resume to deliberately not shed light on her little work experience and a history of not paying things off on time – they weren’t guaranteed to hire Nam-gyu. But it was the hope that maybe he would be hired – if the downright mortifying ordeal of leaving his too-nice roommate Dae-ho was anything to count as motivation – that urged Nam-gyu to take the step.
He’d heard rumors about unfair circumstances with managers or companies or up-and-coming celebrities that subjected their assistants to some kind of twisted power play abuse in the past, but at least, not with this specific company. They seemed to be pretty clear of any scandal, but still . It wasn’t as if Nam-gyu's chances of walking into an office with a borderline hysterical artist were flatline zero. He just had to hope for the best.
He ran a weathered hand down his face, suppressing a huff of exasperation. But it wasn’t as if he would get the assistant job in the first place. Someone like Dae-ho – who had inspired Se-mi’s late-night rambling – was an intern at the branch. Hell, Nam-gyu would be surprised if they even hired him as a garbage boy with all the debt he’d previously accumulated and laid front-and-center on his records.
Whatever. He was getting ahead of himself. Maybe, at the end of the day, this was all just some fantasy he’d conjured up in his head – a welcome replacement to his pornographic ones, thank you – about making bank enough to be knee-deep in full wallets and gold spilling out of his pockets.
Nam-gyu had practically worried himself over nothing with Se-mi. The chances of being hired? Absolute zero. The chances of being hired as an assistant ? In the negatives. Chances of him immediately filling the spot Se-mi immediately vacated – ahem, got fired from – with a likely psycho-rapper and keeping that position long-term? He was kidding himself.
Tomorrow morning, Nam-gyu decided, he would march his way back to his laptop and find places that would actually hire him to submit his half-hearted junk of a resume and cover letters to. And he would find himself paying a respectable amount of the rent to take some weight off of Dae-ho’s shoulders. No more getting high and dreaming up borderline laughable scenarios of circumstances that had to occur in such split-second coincidences that probably made the chances of Haley’s comet flashing by the sky every week more probable.
…And no more letting Se-mi talk him into stupid ideas.
It was like such Nam-gyu fell asleep in his bed, quashing down any hope that dared to simmer in his chest with a brutal recounting of all the points – meshed with Se-mi’s – that declared it very well impossible for Nam-gyu’s odd fantasies to succeed.
…Because how could he have seen this coming?
About a week later, Se-mi, deciding not to leave Nam-gyu’s place (after the repetitive song-and-dance ritual of him pretending to shoo her out), startled awake on the couch with a screech that came from Nam-gyu’s bedroom, alongside the clattering of a thousand fast footsteps.
“What?” She asked groggily, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a question that would surely come out of Dae-ho’s mouth next, the light sleeper. “What happened?”
She asked such because the unintelligible mess of Nam-gyu’s shaking hands – junkie – waving his phone in front of her face weren’t enough to decipher, until… oh.
“Nam-gyu–” Se-mi started, eyes suddenly devoid of all traces of fatigue. “Tell me that didn’t happen.”
Nam-gyu comically opened and closed his mouth multiple times like a fish before jerkily nodding.
Nam-gyu was, in all senses of the word, fucked .
“Su-bong!” His manager yelled, trailing after him in the twist-and-turning hallways gradually leading up to his assigned room. “You can’t spend all day in your studio again. You have an interview scheduled the following week, your meet-and-greet with some fans, and–”
Su-bong continued to stalk down the corridors, making a tch sound with his teeth as he attempted to wave his manager off. “I’m media-trained! Sort of. They can’t ask me any questions Thanos isn’t prepared for, huh?”
“That’s not all, Su-bong!” Manager Kang shouted after him. “The label is expecting a new release hinted at in the interview. Knowing you, you probably don’t have any written yet, but–”
“Then let me work my magic!” Su-bong retorted, finally making his way to the studio and flinging the doors open. Lounging back on the demo chair with his feet propped up on the soundboard, he ignored all dignified splutters that came from his manager’s mouth. He flexed his fingers, cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders a few times, pointedly ignoring the still-prominent signs of a hangover echoing loudly in his temples right now. “Listen, listen, listen,” he said, making a placating gesture with his hands, if only it wasn’t completely contrasted by his halfhearted tone. “I’ll get some lyrics in, I guess, maybe a verse and a chorus, get a producer or two to come down here, and we can work it out! The rough draft, at least.”
“And how do you expect to do that when your assistant’s already waiting on you?” Manager Kang hissed out, practically forcing the words through his teeth.
“Well, maybe that’s their problem, not–” Su-bong went rigid, suddenly kicking his feet off the table. The sudden motion made his head spin. Wait. “ Assistant ?!”
Manager Kang let out a frustrated sound. Su-bong would make fun of his lack of professionalism any other day, but currently, Su-bong’s eyes were blown wide as he stood up straight, barely catching a word of what his manager was spewing. “–You would think from his application that you’d have better time management skills than him , but no.” Manager Kang huffed, blowing a stray piece of hair out of his eyes as he did so, and jabbed a finger at Su-bong’s chest. “You’re late.”
“Sir, you know my alarm clock still hasn’t been repaired, and say what you will about that, but – what the fuck do you mean assistant ?” Su-bong rushed out, genuinely confused.
Manager Kang’s reactions ranged from irritation at the use of profanity to what he was currently staring at him now – with utter disbelief. He slumped and pinched his nosebridge in exasperation, but swivelled on his heel and walked out of the studio with a very confused Su-bong trailing after his step. “Aish, I told you to stop drinking… you know we can’t cover up any scandals you get into anymore, especially with the one your old assistant dragged you into,” he grumbled.
“Se-mi’s not that bad!” Su-bong found himself retorting defensively. “She just suggested some booze or something would help me take the edge off… Do you know how stressful it is to be a rapper these days?” He mused to himself, shaking his head as his eyes trailed somewhere in pondering.
A vein in his manager’s temple bulged out more concerningly with every word Su-bong uttered. “ Yes , even more so having to work for you ,” Manager Kang gritted out. “I’m not asking you to go out drinking with your assistant this time, but at the very least, entertain him for a bit. I’m sure he’ll be out of the office in no time. Why did you even pick him?” He asked exasperatedly, only raising Su-bong’s confusion.
“I didn’t!” Su-bong shouted, arms coming up at his sides. “I mean, at least I don’t think I did – why would I ever hand-select an assistant? I’ve never needed one!” He muttered out, acting like a petulant child with each passing second. It didn’t help that he folded his arms against his chest and huffed dramatically.
“You do need one, Su-bong, and one to get you out of your messes, not into them this time!” Manager Kang exclaimed, before giving up on Su-bong’s stupified, solidified stance in the middle of the hallway and instead dragging him by the arm into his own office. “I’m not saying you’re gonna be with him forever,” he gritted out in a quiet whisper, “but just stay out of any messes until we see how long it takes for him to leave the company, okay?”
Su-bong clicked his tongue childishly before pursing his lips and attempting to think about it. “And then I won’t have an assistant?” He asked hopefully.
“NO!” Manager Kang shouted, looking very close to burying his face in his hands. “Okay, look, fine. If you can keep yourself in tip-top shape after him, and properly regulate god knows whatever goes on in that head of yours – then yes , you may not need an assistant.” At that, Su-bong let out a melodramatic relieved sigh by immediately placing a hand to his heart, only spiking Manager Kang’s irritation. “But! If your fame skyrockets like it’s predicted to, you aren’t going to be able to take on that workload by yourself, and if it gets to that point, you will, once again, need one.”
Su-bong pressed his lips together tightly and almost seemed on the verge of pouting as he racked his mind to process all of that information. “That’s a lot of variables,” he supplied unhelpfully.
“No kidding!” Manager Kang spluttered out, before calming himself with a deep breath and placing a hand on Su-bong’s shoulder. They were at the front of his office now, and lowered his voice dramatically if only to ensure whoever was behind that door posed no risk of hearing their conversation. “Look, the label is very dedicated to ensuring your success, because surprisingly – and unfortunately for me – you’ve got talent,” his manager forced out, looking as if the admission physically pained him.
Su-bong nodded, putting on a show of appearing profoundly relieved at the remark, letting himself sniffle dramatically. “Thank you, sir,” he said, miming wiping tears from his eyes.
His manager fixed him in place with a glare. “That does not mean you aren’t at risk of them at any moment dropping you,” he spat, and rubbed his nose bridge again. “I’m serious, Su-bong, if you and your assistant get into any sort of trouble…”
“It won’t be good for the company, I know,” Su-bong mumbled out, eyes trained on the ground. His manager looked very relieved by his complacency.
“Good,” Manager Kang said, exhaling a deep breath at last.
“But can I ask why you don’t like him in the first place?” Su-bong interrupted his manager’s moment of peace. He couldn’t be all that bad, right?
Manager Kang gave him a blank stare. “He doesn’t go to any college or university, has little work experience besides a fast food joint, a history of debt long enough to rival whatever setlist you may be required to perform in the future…”
Even Su-bong couldn’t fight the grimace that crept on his face. “Fuck, and I picked him because…?”
Manager Kang looked very amused by whatever karma must’ve crept up on the rapper to serve him right. “If only I knew.”
“...Shit.”
With a tentative glance, his manager approached the door carefully, almost as if they were about to breach a very remote and radioactive area, and not as if Su-bong was entering his own office – albeit late – like he always did. With Manager Kang’s hand on the door handle, he shot one last careful look at his client before opening the door.
“Welcome, Mr. Roh!” Manager Kang greeted too-cheerily, hands clasped together in a grin Su-bong suspected only he could see through. “I apologize for the tardiness. Your boss had been under the assumption he was going to begin work in the studio, when that wasn’t the case,” he added, shooting a discreet glare at Su-bong in the process. He suppressed an eye-roll. “This week will be relatively simple for you, and someone will have your schedule emailed towards you in the following week.”
When a verbal agreement wasn’t indicated, Su-bong let his eyes drift over from where they had been firmly planted on a ceiling tile – what was that spot ? – to meet his assistant’s face for the first time who likely nodded, and–
Holy shit.
Standing in front of him had to have been the most beautiful man Su-bong had ever seen. And a lot of his colleagues were pretty damn gorgeous in this industry, okay? He’d seen artists pretty enough that whatever airbrushing or touch-ups they added in Photoshop were completely unnecessary, and yet – they all didn’t hold a candle to the man standing in front of him.
Downy fluff of black hair sat beautifully just above his shoulders, curling around his neck, with the rest tucked behind his ears. Normally feminine features only seemed to accentuate his masculinity on him; thin, pink lips, slanted almond-shaped eyes and a thin nose, perfectly arched eyebrows and the way the light hit him just right to contour the hard edges of his cheekbones–
Su-bong swallowed. Okay, he was astronomically fucked.
Fast food joints his ass – whatever money he made from insane hourly shifts at two in the morning were most likely due to customers that came back just to look at him. Hell if Su-bong wouldn’t have done the same.
Little work experience – yet he had the looks to rival a model?!
Even worse, Su-bong got the vague sense as if he’d seen this man before. Deja vu, almost, though he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Wiry, circular glasses drew his attention, framing those lovely eyes and even and an even lovelier scattering of freckles behind them. He reminded Su-bong all too much of a cat.
Su-bong’s new assistant bowed to Manager Kang, opening his mouth to say, “Thank you,” and a continuation of his follow-up gratitude were all lost as Su-bong took in his voice. God , his voice. Rich and velvety and a perfect amount of undertone that–
“Su-bong, do you have anything to say?” Manager Kang offered, shooting a non-discreet glance at him that may as well have elbowed him in the ribs for saying, stop gawking . But it wasn’t as if Su-bong could help it this time!
Su-bong, ever the professional, choked out, “Uh.”
Mr. Roh’s lips faintly quirked up, then tried to smoothen them down, as if hiding his amusement. God that was a good look on him.
Manager Kang stared at Su-bong, unimpressed. Then clapped his hands together. “Well, if that’s all, I hope you’ll enjoy working with Su-bong. The execs must have emailed you a floor plan of the building, in case Su-bong sends you on errands or any drinks to fetch. I’ll leave you to it.” Manager Kang flashed his once-again smile stretched so tight it must’ve hurt, and shot a look at Su-bong that basically screamed, be good . With that, the door closed behind him, and closed them both in.
Su-bong, left in his office with none other than his now personal assistant, turned back to the unbelievably gorgeous man and offered once again, “uh.”
His assistant looked at him amusedly, and held out his hand to shake it. As Su-bong did so – holy shit he was holding hands with the prettiest man on earth – he noticed a faint tattoo trailing up his assistant’s outstretched hand, which was immediately smothered by the other pulling down the cuff of his sleeve. He then clumsily tucked his hair behind his ears. Cute .
“My name is Roh Nam-gyu, and I’ll be your assistant from now on. I assume you’ve also been aware that your schedule is lighter this week. Is there anything I can do for you right now?” Nam-gyu – that’s a nice name – asked, his head faintly cocking to the side out of curiosity. He really was like a cat.
Wait, shit . Su-bong, get it together. He just asked you a question. Get out more than one syllable this time. Su-bong was media-trained, mind you. Had perfectly quippy remarks to the most alluring of interviewers, flashed smiles that charmed attractive bartenders, and wormed his way into everyone’s heart, if only exempted by his manager. He could answer one question, even if it was to this model of a man he had just met.
He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and… “Um.”
Fuck, not again.
“I’m okay,” Su-bong blurted out immediately afterwards, moving around the room to lean on his desk while still facing Nam-gyu, trying to ignore the way a file almost slipped beneath his hand and nearly caused him to slip, too. “I mean, that’s okay. There’s no need right now,” Su-bong continued to rush out all at once. It felt like fire ants were prickling beneath his skin. He desperately hoped the ground would swallow him up right about now.
Nam-gyu blinked slowly. Cat . “...Are you sure?” he asked. “I’ve been told you take a coffee with cream, sugar, and two pumps of vanilla every morning, Mr. Choi.” It would strike Su-bong as almost impressive later how well he maintained his professionalism with such little markers on his resume showing that he would do so, and especially with one of the top up-and-coming artists of this industry – Thanos, mind you – acting like a complete headless chicken in front of him. Hell, if Su-bong wasn’t so embarrassed right about now – even especially about the fact that his new assistant had been specifically debriefed on his coffee order that he usually shielded by saying that he takes it black – he would’ve cracked a grin at his own misery. This was not a situation where he could laugh at his own misery.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, wait, answer the question. Su-bong straightened up, laughed much-too-loudly, and instead said, “I’m sure, thank you. You’re an even better start to my morning,” he continued on instinct, and winked, as he would with any other pretty girl or guy, and would surely work wonders on Nam-gyu .
If it weren’t for the fact that there was an air of professionalism to be maintained with his assistant, which kicked in a little too late. Su-bong awkwardly laughed and tried to ignore the way his voice faintly pitched up, if only to silence the ongoing spiel in his head about digging his own grave and the repeating lines kill me kill me kill me kill me . “Uhm, I meant–” Su-bong started, then trailed off. He was acutely aware that wasn't a sentence. “I didn’t, uh…” Not that either.
In that moment Su-bong accepted that he would soon be digging a hole somewhere on his university campus to reside in until the end of time, music career be damned. His face burned hot as he muttered out instead, “you can just call me Su-bong. No need for formality.”
A small snicker came from Nam-gyu’s general direction, and Su-bong found himself completely enamored by the way his entire face lit up, teeth showing as he grinned. He quickly suppressed it and replied, “if you insist, Su-bong.” The name rolled so easily off his tongue. Su-bong wanted to hear him say it again, and was suddenly very proud of his decision to insist upon Nam-gyu calling him that.
Drawing up a tablet held between the crook of his side, Nam-gyu tapped through the screen a couple of times and began, “your manager has requested that you visit the studio today to do some songwriting.” Nam-gyu seemed to be fighting back a wry smile as Su-bong repressed the urge to groan, instead tilting his head back frustratedly. “Do you not want that, Su-bong?”
Su-bong fought off just how much he liked hearing Nam-gyu say his name and instead managed to wave his hand around in vague dismissal. “Nah, nah. Thanos can handle it.” Before realizing he was not in fact talking with Manager Kang, and instead his new personal assistant. His gorgeous , beautifully sculpted, ultimately intimidating through raw force of beauty, assistant. Su-bong rushed to take his sentence back but was caught off guard by Nam-gyu snickering into his hand again.
He hummed faintly, quieting down his own laughter, before saying, “your stage name, right?”
Su-bong dramatically flopped down in his office chair, resisting the very tempting urge to bury his head in his hands right about now. “Yeah. Did my manager debrief you on that too?”
Nam-gyu stiffened for a second, tucking his hair behind his ears with one hand. “Uh, yeah. Yes, he did,” he corrected, then cleared his throat again and began swiping on the tablet’s screen. Su-bong decidedly ignored the brief reddening of the tips of Nam-gyu’s ears for his own personal sake and tried to tamp down how awkward he was acting. “Um, right. I can negotiate with your manager for a later time, if that’s what you wish.”
Su-bong came to the realization that this was what it was like to have an assistant. Not like Se-mi was bad – she just seemed like a friend Su-bong would have drinks with at the club, and in fact did have drinks with at the club. Whenever they were in his office, they were spewing gossip to each other and throwing their heads back in poorly-concealed laughter and blatant badmouthing. Not a constant demeanor of professionalism.
Then again, there was that brief moment where Nam-gyu’s facade seemed to break, if only for a split second. Even so, is this what it was like to have a competent assistant?
Fuck, Su-bong really needed to reevaluate his abilities at answering people’s questions. Nam-gyu’s, specifically. “Um, no, that’s alright. I’ll only be in there for about a few hours before Manager Kang pulls me out or starts bitching at me,” he muttered under his breath, only half-aware of the words leaving his mouth.
Bemusement adorned Nam-gyu’s pretty face for a second. “Would you want me to visit to track your progress instead?” He offered, and… Huh.
Despite the blatant lack of respect maintained during Manager Kang and Su-bong’s conversations, it wasn’t ever really serious . In fact, Su-bong would even say they had a good relationship. Nothing motivated Su-bong more than pressure, and their frequent back-and-forths kept him and his career on track, thankfully. Or unfortunately.
But… he wasn’t about to turn down a visit from Nam-gyu.
“Yeah, you should come,” Su-bong offered, standing up from his chair, trying to keep his tone casual. “I could show you the ropes and everything, Nam-su.”
There goes the casualness. Thankfully, the corner of Nam-gyu’s mouth only twitched up in a half-smile. “It’s Nam-gyu,” he corrected, as if that wasn’t the only damn name running through Su-bong’s mind right now.
“Right, right. That’s what I said.” Su-bong nodded very stoically, and watched Nam-gyu scoff to himself.
“Mm-hm. Well, in any case…” The assistant tapped against the screen once more and read off of it. “I’ll confirm the studio session schedule with the execs, and that’s all for you today. They’ll call you down when you’re ready. I’ll be working in the room next door if you need anything.”
Su-bong nodded, feeling pretty satisfied. “I have a feeling I’ll like working with you,” he vocalized for some apparent reason.
Nam-gyu only raised his eyebrows bemusedly. “Likewise if you get your tracks done on time,” he returned, with an expression that indicated he did not mean the words he was saying. Su-bong was so enamored.
As Nam-gyu began to twist the door handle, Su-bong kissed the back of his fingers and on a whim, flung them out towards his new assistant. “See you Nam-su!” he called out after him.
Nam-gyu turned back, giving him a deadpan look but managed to smile back at Su-bong. “Have fun with your track, Thanos,” he replied before the door clicked shut.
Su-bong couldn’t fight the giddy smile completely overtaking his face as he sat back down in his chair, pumping his fist happily. He really was going to like working with him.
“HONEY, I’M HOME!”
Min-su and Gyeong-su let out similar groans as Su-bong immediately clambered through the front door, a mess of limbs and awkward fumbling with his keys like he was doing a one-handed juggling routine with five separate objects before he smacked it down on the kitchen counter, letting out a victorious whoop of whatever self-opposed game he was playing.
Gyeong-su curiously watched Su-bong practically skip across the house happily, twirling on his feet and ruffling Min-su’s hair behind the couch – much to his protests – before hopping over the back of the couch directly and sprawling himself across the poor furniture.
“No outside clothes on the couch,” Gyeong-su pointed out, but Su-bong scoffed loudly and continued maintaining his sprawled-out position, practically pumping his fists and kicking his feet in the air synchronously.
“Good day at work?” Min-su muttered, rubbing his neck and head from where Su-bong practically had him in a headlock prior.
Su-bong somehow leaped to his feet from the couch, stood up straight and jovially marched to the kitchen, flinging open the fridge door with such ferocity it was concerning how it didn’t snap right off. “ Amazing day, my boy!” Su-bong happily declared, humming a happy melody to himself as he grabbed the milk from the fridge, a bowl from the dishwasher that he yanked open just as violently, and combined the two together.
“ Gross ,” Gyeong-su groaned, watching Su-bong pour the milk before the cereal. “I still can’t believe you do that. It’s almost as disgusting as your coffee order.”
Min-su sat upright, leaning forward on his knees as he watched his particularly ecstatic roommate use up the rest of the milk and dunk an unhealthy amount of Fruit Loops into the bowl, sloshing around. He tried not to wince at the sound of Su-bong’s teeth scraping against the spoon he maneuvered out of a drawer. “Is that why you’re so upbeat, hyung? Had too much coffee?”
“No, no, Min-su. His disgusting coffee order’s like a mood stabilizer for him. It doesn’t make him…” Gyeong-su trailed off, pointing at Su-bong jam mouthful after mouthful of cereal in his mouth. “Well, like… that .”
Min-su nodded contemplatively.
“You guys don’t get it,” Su-bong critiqued around a mouthful, jabbing the spoon in their general direction. “What’s so disgusting about an iced latte with 120% sugar, less ice, and a shot of pineapple syrup? And I only get that half the time!” He scooped another bunch of Fruit Loops into his mouth and continued, “the other half the time is–”
“Cream, sugar, and two pumps of vanilla every morning,” Gyeong-su and Min-su finished exasperatedly at the same time.
Su-bong’s face lit up too joyously. “ Exactly !”
As he flopped down on the couch, satisfied with the discussion of his coffee orders and his unparalleled animalistic way of wolfing down his cereal, Min-su suppressed wince after wince of flinching back at the rapid pace Su-bong was eating, but bravely managed to settle his hand on his elbow. “Seriously, hyung, what’s got you so happy though?”
“I’ve never seen you this happy about work before,” Gyeong-su pointed out.
Su-bong sighed happily, finishing off the last of his cereal – that was seriously disgusting – and tilted his head back at the ceiling, smiling fondly. “I’m in love.”
Min-su looked at him with an expression so shocked Su-bong immediately doubled down laughing when he caught wind of it. “Okay, okay, maybe not in love – just a teeny, tiny, workplace crush.”
Min-su fixed his expression and agape jaw just as Gyeong-su asked, “on who?”
Su-bong smiled sappily. “My new assistant.” He took a deep breath as he held his hand up, still staring at the ceiling as if it just had his firstborn, and happily mumbled out, “he’s so aloof, and so hot, and he acts like he doesn’t care, but I’ve made him smile already, and it’s–”
“Okay, okay, we get the point,” Gyeong-su cut in, but smiled regardless.
“I’ve never seen you act like this about someone before,” Min-su remarked, trailing off. “It’s…”
“It makes me want to throw up.”
Min-su shushed Gyeong-su, and returned his focus to Su-bong. “I mean, good for you, hyung. I’d love to meet him one day.”
“His name is Roh Nam-gyu,” Su-bong said happily, still grinning like an idiot at the ceiling. “It’s a shame that my manager doesn’t want him to last long.”
“What? Why?”
“Thinks he’s gonna be a bad influence on me, like Se-mi, or whatever,” Su-bong said, pursing his lips. “Guess that’s because of his debt and that he’s only worked at KFC before.”
“...Su-bong–”
“It’s whatever! Him working here is good for me,” Su-bong declared, decidedly waving thoughts aside about his university courses and lectures tomorrow, instead zeroing in on Nam-gyu’s gorgeous smile and high cheekbones in his head, feeling a striking familiarity grow more and more prominent until–
Su-bong fell face-first into the pillow as the memory came rushing back to him, which startled the other two.
“Hyung!”
“Oh, leave him alone, you know how he gets dramatic…”
“I’m serious, Su-bong, you need to get your act together!” Manager Kang shouted at him from over the phone, and Su-bong rolled his eyes, noisily snacking on chips in a way he hoped was audible to his manager.
His head was pounding, pointedly ignoring the glass of water set in front of him and instead feeling the after-effects of the alcohol kicking in. He glanced up at his ceiling, watching it spin with a sort of hypnotic effect to it, getting lost in the swirling beige, and…
“Are you even listening?!” Manager Kang yelled, and Su-bong winced and twisted a finger in his ear before rubbing the other hand against his temple.
“Yes, sir, I’m listening, find a new assistant, yada-yada-yada,” he grumbled, lowering the volume of his very loud manager currently on speakerphone.
“I’m serious, Su-bong–”
“I am too!” He found himself huffing.
Manager Kang’s exasperation could easily be heard over the line. “I’m going to pretend like I don’t know that you’re drunk right now,” he hissed, and Su-bong shrugged.
“‘Kay,” he said happily, and then, “thanks, boss!”
“Don’t thank me!” His manager shouted again, and Su-bong once again found himself irritated at his manager’s ability to make every headache worse by tenfold. “I forwarded you a list of applications and candidates, and you need to pick an assistant soon to get your shit together. Don’t skim the list, Su-bong. It takes a lot these days to–”
“Yeah, yeah…” Su-bong muttered, letting his fingers lazily scroll over his mouse to the email and let his eyes flit over the photos. He let out a dissatisfied sigh as he read some of the applications. Sure, they were pretty damn impressive, if that’s what you were looking for, but what happened to people that were bad at things these days? Not that he would be able to tell. His eyes were barely hanging onto a single word and digesting it.
“Su-bong, if I find out you aren’t taking this seriously–”
A gasp rippled through Su-bong’s input as he paused on the perfect resume. “He’s perfect ,” he breathed out, and let his fingers trail the monitor.
“I swear to god, what did I just say about skimming–”
“No, no, Boss, I swear this is – he’s perfect ,” he breathed. “Holy shit.” Black hair, striking eyes, defined cheekbones, circular glasses…
Some clicking was heard over the line as Manager Kang sighed. “Okay. I don’t even want to know, but… which one have you decided on?”
“The, uhm…” Su-bong pouted as his fingers reluctantly let go of his monitor to squint at the characters not making themselves out right now. “Couldn’t tell you if I tried,” he supplied. “Black hair?”
Manager Kang let out a louder sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me one day. Su-bong, half the applicants have black hair,” he snapped.
“Oh,” Su-bong let out. He squinted again at the screen, trying to will the words to come into existence. “Uhm… he has glasses?”
“Are you in any state to read right now?” Manager Kang muttered, like he already knew the answer.
Su-bong huffed, wanting to prove him wrong, and squinted at the screen a final time. Third time’s the charm. “Roh… Roh… Nam-... su?”
He could practically hear his manager frowning on the other line, fingers furiously clacking on his keyboard. There was a beat where Manager Kang could be heard vaguely swearing, before suddenly saying, “did… did you seriously mean Roh Nam-gyu?”
“That’s what I said,” Su-bong slurred out, and had the vague feeling his eyes kept closing for longer and longer.
“Su-bong,” Manager Kang tried to start placatingly, then gave up halfway. “I’m going to be straight with you: what the fuck do you see in this applicant?”
Su-bong’s head thudded against his desk where he came to rest, and pouted at his phone. “He’s perfect,” he protested.
“He has no work experience adequate for this position,” Manager Kang stressed. “I don’t even want to run a background check on this guy.”
“He’s my new assistant,” Su-bong still protested weakly, but managed to huff again. “I want him as my assistant.”
“Su-bong, please, there are plenty of better applicants out there–”
“I’ll make sure they quit if they ever get hired,” Su-bong retorted.
“WHAT?! Ohmygod – don’t be rash about this now,” Manager Kang said.
“I want Nam-su as my assistant,” Su-bong continued, frowning now.
“We should have this conversation once you’re in a better state of mind,” his manager suggested.
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“Su-bong – for god’s fucking sake, you can’t seriously–”
“Hire Nam-su,” Su-bong persisted petulantly, before giving in and lifting his heavy hand above the red button to end the call. “Bye.”
“Su-bong, you–!”
Beep.
Su-bong stared once again at the spinning ceiling from where he could barely lift his eyes against his desk, blinked continuously as the world zeroed in, and found himself falling asleep face-first on his desk.
“My life is over,” Su-bong moaned into the couch pillow, burying his face deeper into the scratchy fabric. Fuck, they should get new ones.
“Weren’t you just talking about your amazing day?” Gyeong-su muttered, but Min-su was awkwardly patting him on the back.
“There… there?” He offered confusedly, exchanging a glance with Gyeong-su. “What happened this time?”
“Nam-gyu’s gonna find out I hand-picked him from a bunch of applicants because of how hot he was when I was drunk,” Su-bong wailed into the pillow, and felt the hand on his back freeze.
“Well, um. That’s…” Min-su began, but froze. “ Gyeong-su ! Stop laughing!” He hissed.
“Su-bong, you what ?!” Gyeong-su cackled, falling over on his back at this point. “Oh my god – please tell me you didn’t–”
Su-bong groaned into the pillow and fumbled around aimlessly for a pillow before whacking it in the vague sense of where Gyeong-su had to be. Unsurprisingly, Min-su let out a shriek instead.
“Hyung, that was me !”
“You guys are both assholes…” Su-bong grumbled into his pillow, before he was rudely awakened by Gyeong-su immediately throwing one at his head, which bounced off to the cereal that quickly spilled all over the floor.
“Fuck, we just got the carpet cleaned!” Gyeong-su shouted.
“It’s your fault!”
“You pour in milk before cereal,” Min-su retorted bravely.
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!”
Their situation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, Su-bong toppling over furniture one too many times, Gyeong-su laughing his ass off until he fell over, and Min-su somehow ending up as the one getting defeated in the end and screaming his throat hoarse, “ I surrender! I SAID I SURRENDER!”
At the end, they all slumped down to the cold hardwood floor, and it was enough for Su-bong to take his mind off of a prickling mortification in the back of his brain. At least for now.
“You know that cereal probably dried in the carpet by now?” Min-su mused, and was met with a whack to his ribs. “OW! What was that for?!”
Gyeong-su, the one to deliver the hit, snorted and laid back down. “Ruining the moment, dipshit. Come on, we’re here to distract Su-bong from his stupid choice in men when he’s drunk.”
Su-bong, having all-but forgotten the moment up until now, groaned into his hands, much to their amusement. Sadistic shits. “Why do you all hate me?!” He shouted, and was met with Min-su’s hand rubbing circles into his shoulders.
“There, there…”
“I’m never drinking again,” Su-bong moaned into his hands.
“Him working there really is good for you,” Gyeong-su breathed, astonished, and was met with a defeated groan from Su-bong.
“I think that means he surrenders,” Min-su translated.
“How was your first day at work?” Se-mi interrupted in the midst of their movie night, and Nam-gyu paused on his snacking to tilt his head to the side.
“It was, like, there ,” he answered.
Dae-ho let out a surprised laugh, nudging Nam-gyu with his shoulder. “Wow. That bad?”
“It’s just, like…” Nam-gyu huffed, returning to filling his mouth with popcorn. “The workload , dude. Taking notes from sound engineers, booking shit with photographers, having to reply to sponsorship contracts… I didn’t know he was that popular,” he finished under his breath.
Se-mi hummed, shrugging her shoulders. “Nah, I’m pretty sure you knew.”
“I swear to fucking god, Se-mi–”
Dae-ho laughed again, ever the physical embodiment of sunshine, and nodded, though fixed his eyes on the TV screen. “I mean, that’s what you get for having the balls to apply for Thanos’s assistant job, right?”
Nam-gyu paused at that, his thoughts trailing off. “Yeah, I guess.”
Se-mi nodded mock-seriously. “Yeah, dude, that’s pretty ballsy.”
“Bitch, you made me!”
The rest of the movie passed by with relative to no talking besides a few quips here and there at the actors, some late night conspiracy theories, and multiple complaints about the popcorn running out. As Nam-gyu trudged back up to deal with the popcorn shortage for the fifth time and watched as the stupid paper bag spun around in the microwave, making popping noises, Se-mi appeared behind him.
“...So, nothing bad about working for him , then?”
Nam-gyu sucked his teeth, thinking. “I mean, like… he was awkward, but that was about it?”
“Mm.” Se-mi thought, then nodded at him. “What about on your end? Didn’t fuck up too badly in front of Thanos the rapper?”
The tips of Nam-gyu’s ears burned. “Se-mi–”
“I’m just saying, I would’ve thought you’d’ve had a more embarrassing reaction to working for Thanos –”
“Shut up!”