As the small talk between Jihoon, Jieun, and Han Sungsoo carried on, the atmosphere in the sleek office remained light but expectant. They sipped their coffee, trading a few jokes and polite observations while waiting for the "real boss" to arrive—whoever that was supposed to be.
Jihoon glanced around the space again. It was quiet. Comfortable. A bit too polished, maybe, but not unfriendly. Jieun sat beside him, swinging her legs slightly under the couch like a kid trying to look patient. Sungsoo, for his part, kept checking the time with the practiced calm of a man who'd done this routine a thousand times.
Then—click.
The sound of high heels echoed sharply against the marble floor, followed by the smooth swing of the office door.
No knock. No announcement.
She just walked in.
Like she belong to this place.
And maybe she did.
Jihoon turned his head just as the woman entered the room.
She moved with quiet authority, every step purposeful, her heels tapping out a rhythm that made the room suddenly feel smaller.
She didn't hesitate or pause like a visitor might. She didn't even glance at Han Sungsoo, as if she'd walked into her own living room instead of a corporate executive's office.
She was stunning—not just in the obvious way, but in that unsettling, fairytale-like kind of way, like someone who didn't quite belong to the real world.
She wore a simple ivory dress, soft in color and modest in design, yet the way it draped over her figure made it clear it had been tailored with precision and care.
There was nothing loud or extravagant about it, but it carried the quiet weight of wealth.
And though the dress was subtle, it traced the absolute curves of her body with effortless grace, revealing beauty without needing to flaunt it.
Her features held the kind of symmetry artists chase but rarely capture: an elegant oval face, delicate and balanced; slightly upturned, cherry-colored lips; a small, almost dainty nose; and large, round eyes that seemed to glow under the light.
She looked young, but there was an unmistakable grace in her posture—as if she'd spent her entire life being trained to walk into rooms like this.
And when her eyes landed on Jihoon—she stopped.
For the briefest second, her expression broke.
Shock. Recognition. Something close to joy.
Jihoon blinked. Had they met before?
Sungsoo immediately jumped to his feet, moving with a speed and obedience that spoke volumes about a hierarchy that hadn't existed—until the moment she walked in.
He didn't say her name. Didn't introduce her. He simply gave up his seat—the main one, the "owner's" seat—without a word and stepped aside like a loyal but invisible butler.
The woman sat down gracefully, crossing one leg over the other with barely a rustle of her dress. She rested her hands in her lap, giving off the serene calm of someone very used to having people stare at her.
And that's exactly what was happening.
Jihoon and Jieun couldn't help but look. And she, in turn, studied them right back.
There was a strange silence in the room—not awkward, but charged. The energy had shifted, subtly but unmistakably, from casual to something far more deliberate.
Jihoon felt it immediately—this wasn't just a formal introduction anymore. Whoever she was, she wasn't just a figurehead. She felt like someone who moved the pieces behind the curtain.
And the way she looked at him… it wasn't mere curiosity.
It was as if she already knew him.
As if this meeting had been set in motion long before any of them had stepped into the room.
Just as the heavy energy in the room began to ease—like a thick fog lifting after a storm—the woman finally spoke. Her voice was soft but carried a quiet confidence, the kind of tone that didn't need to shout to be heard.
"You must be Jihoon," she said, smiling warmly. "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm SK Choi Yoonjung."
She extended a hand toward him with a kind of effortless grace—elegant, but without any trace of arrogance. It was the kind of gesture that felt both rehearsed and sincere, as if she had done this a hundred times, but still meant it each time.
Jihoon stood, a bit surprised by her warmth, and reached out to shake her hand. Her palm was cool, her grip firm—confident, not showy.
"Pleasure's mine, Miss Choi," he replied with a polite smile. "I wasn't expecting to meet someone from SK personally today—let alone you."
She giggled—a light, airy sound that didn't quite match the high-society aura she wore when she entered the room.
For just a moment, the poised woman who carried herself like royalty suddenly looked like a girl meeting her favorite idol.
"Well," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear—a gesture that softened her composure, a stark contrast to the poised aura she had when she first entered the room.
"When I heard you were in the building… I couldn't resist. I mean, you're the director everyone's talking about these days."
Jihoon chuckled, a little embarrassed. "Ah, that's just media hype. Nothing to take seriously."
She tilted her head, smiling playfully. "Maybe. But people don't start hype for no reason, you know. Usually, there's something—or someone—worth talking about."
At that, Jieun glanced up from her coffee, her fingers pausing mid-sip. One eyebrow arched just slightly—not dramatically, but enough to show she was taken off guard by the woman's sudden familiarity.
She didn't say anything, of course. That wasn't her style. But her gaze flicked back and forth between Jihoon and Yoonjung, curious and quietly alert, like a bunny peeking out from its burrow, sensing something was off but not sure whether to stay or bolt.
Meanwhile, Sungsoo stayed firmly planted behind Yoonjung, standing at attention like a dutiful bodyguard.
His posture was textbook formal—shoulders squared, hands folded—but the slight twitch tugging at the corner of his mouth gave him away. If he wasn't trying so hard to look professional, he might've burst into a full-blown grin.
The whole situation had an air of quiet absurdity to it, and Sungsoo, ever the observer, seemed to be enjoying the show in his own restrained way.
Not letting the momentum drop, Yoonjung leaned forward just slightly, as if she were letting Jihoon in on a little secret.
"I heard you're in your second year at SNU?"
"Yeah…?" Jihoon replied, blinking at the sudden shift in topic.
"Perfect," she said brightly. "Looks like we're about to become schoolmates."
Jihoon froze. "Huh? Wait—really?"
Yoonjung giggled again. "Yup. I just came back from the States. Transferring into SNU's art program this semester. So, I guess we'll be seeing each other around campus."
Jihoon scratched the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard.
Judging by her elegant demeanor—and her designer heels—he'd pegged her as someone who probably studied at Ivy Leagues or some elite European school.
"Ah… I mean, yeah. That's cool. But I don't really go to campus that often, to be honest," he said awkwardly.
"That's okay," she said with an unconcerned shrug. "I love art, so I'll be around a lot. And anyway, I heard you sometimes give students a chance to work on your film sets? Is that true?"
Jihoon hesitated, his smile thinning just a little. Something in her tone made him pause.
She didn't sound threatening—not exactly—but there was an undercurrent to her words, a subtle sharpness that hinted at something beneath the surface.
A motive, maybe. She wasn't being rude, but this definitely wasn't casual small talk either.
Was she... aiming at something? He couldn't quite tell. It couldn't be him, right? Someone of her status could easily get whatever she wanted—she only needed to ask, and there'd be a line of people eager to make it happen.
He was just a promising director, not some industry kingpin. He never assumed people liked him—or wanted something from him—just because of a few glowing headlines.
Still, the way she spoke... it felt calculated. Not in an obvious or sinister way, but deliberate. Like she was steering things toward a goal only she knew.
"Uh… yeah, I do sometimes," he said cautiously.
Her smile widened. "That's great! So, if I join the program, I might get a shot too?"
There it was again—that eager push. Jihoon couldn't put his finger on it, but something about her was throwing him off.
It wasn't anything she said, and she didn't seem fake. But the way she kept directing the flow of the conversation, the way she looked at him—it felt like she was here for a reason, and not just a friendly introduction.
Still, he nodded, trying to stay polite. "Sure… yeah. Why not."
"Yay!" she clapped her hands softly and giggled again, her eyes sparkling. "I can't wait. I've always wanted to see how real directors work up close."
Jihoon gave a small smile in return, but in the back of his mind, something itched.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it yet—but one thing felt certain: Choi Yoonjung didn't walk into rooms without a plan.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just one of those strange quirks people at the top tend to have—an odd taste, a passing curiosity, or simply a way to kill time.
Who knew? People like them with too much money and too little to worry about often found the weirdest ways to amuse themselves.
Still, that itch in his brain wouldn't go away.
[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe, JiangXiu and OS_PARCEIROS for bestowing the power stone!]