It was another cold morning, and it had snowed overnight, leaving a light, white sheet along the sidewalks and buildings in Busan. Heejung slept in a bit later then normal that morning, and woke up at around 9:00. After showering, she rummaged through her closet, trying to find suitable clothes for the day. It had been a while since she had gone out for fun with a friend. Although, she supposed this was a bit different. Miran wasn't exactly a friend, and yet,t she felt odd just calling him 'boss'.
She ended up choosing a pastel pink and white striped sweater, a pair of jeans, warm boots, all accompanied by a large white scarf.
She spent most of the morning sketching, and finally picked up her phone to text Miran at around 11:00. However, to her surprise, he had already texted her.
"Not sure what time you got up this morning, but I'm impatient so I'll just choose lunch. Meet me in front of the bookstore at around 12:00, and don't be late."
It felt odd to get such a casual text from her boss, but at the same time, it made her smile.
She left her apartment at about 11:45, and walked to the bookstore, which only took her about ten minutes. Not surprisingly, Miran was already sitting on a bench, waiting for her there. When he saw her approaching, he stood, greeting her with a smile. He was dressed in a white sweater, layered with an unfastened navy pea coat, and dark colored jeans. Resting on his head of messy blonde hair was the same black hat. He looked so odd to Heejung in casual clothes, like a completely different person. "Hungry?" he asked her.
She nodded, "Very. Where are we going, since you wouldn't let me decide?" she joked.
"I found a nice italian restaurant a few blocks away, I already got a reservation, hope you like italian food."
Coincidentally, she did. She smiled, "Sounds great!"
The restaurant was far fancier than Heejung had expected, and she felt bad for not dressing a bit nicer, but she supposed that if Miran didn't make the effort, she shouldn't feel so bad. Their reservation placed them at a table for two on the second floor, right next to a window. The two ordered drinks, and then perused the menus in front of them.
"I'm feeling like spaghetti," Miran declared, setting down his menu after not looking at it for long, "What about you?"
Heejung was unsure. Everything on the menu looked appetizing, but the spaghetti did sound especially good, "I think I'll have the same."
"I guess I just have really good taste, huh?" He joked, leaning forward on the table.
When their waitress returned, they both ordered, and she took their menus, stating it would be about thirty or forty-five minutes, since the restaurant was so busy.
"So, you brought it right?" Miran asked plainly as soon as the waitress left. He was obviously eager to get down to business.
Heejung gulped nervously, "Um, yeah," she reached into her messenger bag and slowly pulled out the tattered notebook, "It's a bit worn, so be careful."
"Before we get into that," he seemed to ignore her, "I'm going to be honest with you, Heejung."
Her nerves increased, "What... do you mean?"
Miran's heart was pounding like crazy, but he kept a calm composure nonetheless, "How do you feel about our relationship as it stands right now?"
He had thought all night and all morning about this. Claiming he was the one who wrote the notebook might not be the best solution, after all. Maybe skipping that and simply being honest with her about his feelings was the best option. She said it herself, she wasn't convinced the story in the notebook was even real.
"That's..." she began to blush, and her hands fiddled nervously with the silverware in front of her, "I mean... what does that have to do with why we're here?"
His eyes searched her face, "I'm asking you to be honest with me. As long you can do that, I'll be honest as well."
"Miran, you're my boss. I don't..." she met his eyes for single, awkward second, "I don't think this is appropriate."
"Nevermind that. What if I wasn't your boss? How would you feel then?"
If honesty was what he wanted, she decided to give it to him, even though she was struggling to comprehend what exactly was happening, "Look, I like you, yeah. You're successful... attractive... we get along well... but," she looked down to the notebook, "I just don't think it would be right, understand?"
This tactic obviously wasn't working. He guessed he had to use his only other option, "Heejung..." taking a deep breath, he looked her straight in the eyes and spoke clearly, but nervously, "What if I told you, I wrote that notebook?"
Blinking several times, her eyebrows lowered, "Don't joke around. You said you wanted to help."
"I'm being serious."
Heejung crossed her arms, scoffing, "Is this what Yumi meant when she said you apparently like younger girls? Are you just trying to lure me into some trap? Have you done this to interns in the past? Well, you'll have to try harder because not only am I older than you, I'm also not that thick-skulled."
Miran gave a frustrated laugh, "Are you serious? I'm trying to be transparent with you right now. I can prove I wrote this!" his finger jabbed into the notebook next to him, "Ask me about any event told in here, and I can recite it in perfect detail!"
"Maybe you did write it. Maybe you had your eye on me for a long time. Maybe you planted it in my room. I'm starting to get the feeling this isn't the first time you've done something like this."
Was she really being serious? What would possibly lead her to suspect him of something like that? Miran was rendered speechless.
"Successful and good looking guy like you? Yeah, you could easily rope in some stupid girl, huh? Is that why you went to the book store so much? Were you stalking me? You're sick, targeting a girl who suffered from amnesia."
Before he could say anything in defense, she stood up, nearly toppling over the chair she was sitting in. She grabbed her bag, and after giving a final disgusted look towards Miran, she stormed out of the restaurant. Completely flustered, Miran sat for a second, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
After processing the event that had just taken place for a moment, he stood up. H slipped the notebook under his arm, left enough money on the table to pay for their meal that hadn't even arrived yet, and quickly headed out of the restaurant as well. He hoped he could catch up to her, but when he got outside, she was nowhere to be found.
"Dammit," he uttered to himself, grabbing his phone from his pocket and dialing Heejung's number. No response. He'd really done it now. If only he had been just a bit more patient, maybe things would have turned out better.
After not getting a response the second and third times he tried to call, he quickly texted her.
"I'm sorry I came across a bit strong. Please answer me."
Frustrated beyond belief, he tried to remember the exact location of her apartment. He would probably only make things worse by showing up unannounced, especially when she had never told him where she lived. However, at this moment, he only wanted to get his point across to her, and maybe with someone like her, it was best to be as bold as possible.
Hoping he had the right address remembered, he headed in the direction of her apartment, and after walking for about ten minutes, he finally came across the all too familiar building. Quickly running inside, he jammed the elevator button several times, as if that would speed up the process. He could still remember the floor, and as soon as he was in the long hallway of numbered rooms, he was able to remember her exact room number.
He stood in front of it for a moment, preparing himself for the worst. Miran gave two strong knocks, and after a moment, he heard her yell, "Leave me alone! Get out of here!"
Stubborn and determined, he knocked again, calling out, "Heejung, I just want to drop off the notebook. You left it behind."
"Apparently it's yours, anyway. You really think I want it?" she called out again, sounding as if she was directly on the other side of the door, "How do you even know where I live? You're so creepy!"
"I'm not leaving until you at least have the decency to talk about this. It would be awfully awkward at work tomorrow if we didn't."
There was silence for a moment, and Miran was convinced she had left the door, until he heard the clicking sound of it slowly being unlocked. It swung open only a bit, and Heejung stared at him, obviously annoyed, "What?"
Miran coughed, "Are you... going to let me in or not?" he asked, his hand pushing on the doorknob.
After a frustrated sigh, she swung the door open completely and walked inside, "Just leave the book on the table. I'm really not in the mood to talk about this right now."
Miran shut the door behind him, and set the notebook on the kitchen table, "How can I convince you?"
"You're still going on about that? You really are sick," she responded, still refusing to make eye contact.
"Heejung, please," he demanded, "look at me."
Heejung turned slightly towards him, "Don't try to smooth talk me. I'm not going to fall for it like all the other girls you've probably roped in."
Rolling his eyes, Miran sighed, "Let me be perfectly clear with you," he removed his coat and threw it across the kitchen table, "I have never had an intern before. I never even had it approved by the president over the museum. I created the opportunity specifically for you and only you, and I created it on the spot when we talked in the coffee shop months ago."
"How can you say that and expect me to believe you? Especially with the way everyone at the museum talks about you," she slowly shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her, "With the stuff Yumi says all the time... How can I not assume you're just some pervert? Is that why you read romance novels all the time?" she scoffed.
Silence came over Miran. He was fully aware that the others at the museum didn't like him, but it didn't make her words any less painful, "I've worked hard for that position. Harder that you will ever know," he said sternly, "They hate me because I'm better than them. I'm smarter than them. I have better work ethic than them. And Yumi? She has slept her way to the top of every job she's ever had, why do you think she's telling you all those things? Are you even able to comprehend what I'm telling you right now?"
"You're so full of yourself, it's sick. Maybe if you treated everyone nicer, they wouldn't hate you so much," Heejung spoke honestly, avoiding Miran's question, "And what you say about Yumi, does that mean you've helped her along with her job? Is that what you're trying to tell me? That must be why she's all over you all the time, you two obviously have some kind of history."
"Are you stupid? I would never, not with Yumi. Not with anyone," he paused, trying to find the right words, "I haven't so much as kissed anyone in three years, Heejung. Don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you right now?"
"I don't believe you, and I don't need to hear about your personal business," she started to turn away again, walking to the couch and sitting down, "Can you leave now? I need to think about whether I'll be coming to work tomorrow or not."
Groaning loudly, Miran ignored her request and eyed her carefully. What angle was he supposed to take now? There had to be something he could say or bring up that would convince her. Not the notebook, he knew she had convinced herself that was simply a prank at this point. His eyes continued searching her, until his gaze stopped on her hands, and the ring adorning one of her fingers. That was it.
"Heejung," he spoke softly, and she ignored him, but he continued, "Do you happen to have a silver ring with a light blue gem in the center?"
It was the only piece of evidence he felt he had left that could possibly, hopefully, convince her. There was silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her to respond.
She whipped her head around to look at him, "Why?"
She wore the ring every single day, and didn't pay much mind to it. She remembered having it on when she was admitted to the hospital, and she hadn't put much thought into it. Maybe a ring passed down from a family member? Or simply a ring she saw, liked, and then bought?
"Maybe this will be proof enough for you," he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and reached into it, revealing a ring that matched the one on Heejung's finger. He angrily tossed it onto the coffee table in front of her.
Heejung stared at the ring in front of her for a bit, and finally picked it up, studying it. It was a perfect match to hers, and judging by how worn it looked, she knew he couldn't have just happened to buy this recently as a ploy to lure her in. She was completely speechless, "I... don't understand," she shook her head in confusion, but kept her guard up, "What are you trying to tell me with this?"
When she received no response, she looked up, and nearly jumped from her seat when she found Miran was now sitting next to her, his face not far from hers, "Are you really that dense?" he asked calmly.
Heejung felt extremely uncomfortable. She shifted away from him slightly, but locked eyes with him, not wanting to back down, "I don't know what you're getting at. It's just a ring. I'm not stu-"
She was cut off immediately as Miran's hands lunged forward to grip the sides of her face, and his lips pressed roughly against hers. He hadn't initially planned on doing so, but he found that his patience was growing extremely thin.
A mixture of emotions filled Heejung; bliss, anger, and most prominent, confusion. Why did this feel so... right?
When he pulled away, Miran searched her face for some kind of reaction, but he only received a blank stare, "Do you understand now?"
"I..." her voice was soft at first, but then her face slowly began to twist with anger, "Get out."
Startled, Miran sat completely still, "What?"
Broken from the trance, Heejung stood, shoving him away from her, "I said get out!"
Still confused, but feeling defeated, he slowly stood, grabbing his ring off the coffee table before backing up to the front door. Unsure of what to even say, he hesitantly grabbed his coat off the table in the kitchen, and paused next to the front door.
As he was about to say something, Heejung interrupted him, "Go! And don't expect me to come to work tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe even ever again!"
With those words hitting him like bricks, he obediently opened the front door and backed out slowly, shutting it softly behind him.
Heejung huffed with anger and stormed to her room, slamming the door shut behind her and letting out a much-needed scream. This was the most confused she had ever been in her life, that was for sure. If he really was the one who she was supposed to be waiting for all this time, why was he being so rude about it? And why did he kiss her so suddenly? Why did it feel so right, even though she knew it was completely wrong? He was her boss, a relationship would be completely taboo between the two of them. If he wanted to reconnect with her, why did he think offering her an internship was the best way to do it?
Her mind racing with endless questions, Heejung collapsed on her bed, her head starting to pound. She knew for a fact that she wouldn't be showing up to work tomorrow, not after the horribly awkward situation that had just taken place.
As hard as Heejung tried to get good sleep that night, her dreams woke her up in a series of panic and confusion, several times. All she could think about was the kiss between her and Miran, and she still couldn't decide if she had enjoyed it or despised it more.
The biggest question in her mind was how she could come back from this situation and continue to work for him. She was becoming aware that if they couldn't get past this, she would have to quit the internship, and work somewhere else that she surely wouldn't enjoy nearly as much.
