Emerald Strings

Filthy Redhead

“Filthy redhead,” he grumbled, glaring at the table as if it had somehow wronged him. “What can I expect from someone whose head looks like a damn fire hydrant?”

He tapped his fingers impatiently on the polished wood surface, replaying the earlier encounter with Aaira in his mind. The way she’d shouted back at him, the sheer audacity of her tone, it was infuriating. Nobody, nobody, had ever dared to speak to him like that before, much less a random woman off the street. He clenched his jaw, trying to push the memory aside as a waiter approached.

“Sir, would you like to see the menu?” the waiter asked, his voice tentative.

“Just bring me a steak. Medium rare. And a glass of white wine,” Sunghoon said curtly, waving the waiter away without a second glance. He leaned back in his seat, staring out the window at the bustling streets of New York City.

Even the wine, when it arrived, did little to soothe his irritation. He took a sip and set the glass down with more force than necessary, earning a startled glance from the waiter nearby.

His phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with the name of his secretary. He frowned deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if anticipating the headache this call would bring. With a heavy sigh, he picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice sharp and clipped.

On the other end, his secretary hesitated, her voice trembling as she began, “S-Sir… there’s something urgent I need to inform you about.”

Sunghoon closed his eyes briefly, his fingers tightening around the phone. He didn’t say anything, but the silence itself was enough to prompt her to continue.

“The company’s stocks… they’ve fallen by 2% as of this morning,” she said hesitantly, her words barely audible.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, and his grip on the phone turned white-knuckled. “Two percent?” he hissed, his tone dangerously low. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

“I-I was going to report it earlier, but you were—”

“Spare me your excuses,” Sunghoon snapped, cutting her off. He ran a hand through his dark hair, his frustration mounting. “How could this happen? What the hell is my finance team doing? Sitting on their hands?”

His secretary stammered, struggling to find the words to explain. “W-We’re investigating the cause, sir. It could be linked to recent market fluctuations, but—”

“I don’t care about your speculations,” Sunghoon barked, his voice rising. Heads turned in the restaurant, but he paid them no mind. “I care about results. You and your team should have seen this coming and acted to prevent it. Do you think ParkHaven Entertainment is a charity? Do you think we can afford to lose millions because you failed to do your job?”

There was a heavy pause on the line, broken only by his secretary’s shaky breathing. Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed as he continued, his tone icy.

“And? Is that all? Or do you have more brilliant news to share?”

The secretary hesitated again, clearly dreading what she had to say next. “S-Sir… about the upcoming debut movie…”

“What about it?” Sunghoon growled, already bracing himself for the worst.

“The lead actor… he’s resigned. As of this afternoon.”

For a moment, there was silence on Sunghoon’s end. Then, his voice erupted in fury, loud enough to make the waiter jump nearby.

“He what?” Sunghoon shouted, his voice echoing through the restaurant. “You’re telling me the lead actor for one of our most anticipated films just walked out? And you’re only telling me this now?”

“We tried to convince him to stay, sir,” the secretary said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But he was adamant. Something about creative differences...”

“Creative differences?” Sunghoon cut her off, his tone dripping with disdain. “Who the hell does he think he is? A second-rate actor throwing tantrums on my set? And you let him walk away?”

“We’re already searching for a replacement, sir,” she said quickly, her words tumbling over each other. “We’ll find someone soon, I promise.”

“Promises don’t pay the bills,” Sunghoon snapped. He rubbed his temples, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Do you have any idea how much time and money we’ve poured into this project? How much is riding on its success? And now, because of your incompetence, we’re back to square one.”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” the secretary said, her voice trembling. “I’ll work day and night to fix this. I’ll—”

“You’d better,” Sunghoon interrupted coldly. “Because if this film fails, it won’t just be the company that suffers... it’ll be your career. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Sunghoon ended the call without another word, tossing his phone onto the table with a loud clatter. He leaned back in his seat, running a hand down his face as he tried to compose himself.

The waiter approached cautiously, placing his steak on the table. “Is… everything alright, sir?” he asked hesitantly.

Sunghoon glared at him, his piercing gaze enough to send the man scurrying away without waiting for a response. He picked up his knife and fork, cutting into the steak with more force than necessary.

“First a filthy redhead, now this,” he muttered under his breath, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “What’s next? A meteor crashing into the building?”

As he ate, his mind raced with plans to salvage the situation. “Just great,” he muttered to himself, stabbing his fork into the steak. “As if I needed another headache.”

He needed to act quickly, to fix the mess his incompetent staff had created. But even as he plotted his next moves, the memory of Aaira’s fiery red hair and defiant voice lingered in the back of his mind, fueling his irritation.