Fatescript

"Smells Like Trouble"

Taehyung watched her pace, clearly enjoying this more than he should. “I asked Hyung why Aunt Hwa-Jin brought you in,” he said after a pause. “He told me she wanted you to be part of the project too. Said you’d add... star power. Make people look twice.”

Jisoo let out an incredulous scoff, crossing her arms as she stared at Taehyung.
“Oh, so now I’m just her star power? Using me again, huh?”

Taehyung held up both hands in surrender, walking over to her with exaggerated caution. “Okay, okay, calm down. You're literally vibrating.”

“I’m not vibrating.”

“You are. Like an angry kitten.”

Before she could snap back, he gestured toward the plush, curved sofas near the center of his spacious office. “Sit. Before you explode.”

Jisoo rolled her eyes hard but sat anyway, sinking into the velvety cushions with a dramatic exhale. Her legs crossed tightly, arms still folded, jaw clenched.

Meanwhile, Taehyung walked back behind his dark walnut desk, his expression shifting into something more focused. “I just need to address something quickly with Dongmin,” he muttered, already pulling his phone out.

“Don’t mind me,” Jisoo muttered, slipping a hand into the inside pocket of her coat and pulling out Seona’s phone. The screen lit up the moment she swiped right—no password required.

With barely a second thought, she opened the web browser again, the last visited article still loaded:

“Kim Jisoo, VP of Elysian Properties, and Kim Taehyung, COO of Kim Group, Spark Dating Rumors After Spotted Wearing Matching Couple Watches.”

Her eyes narrowed at the headline. Her heart ticked a little louder as she scrolled downward—to the comment section.

The silence in the room seemed to hum as her eyes darted over the words on screen.

> “Of course she wants a Kim Group heir. She’s using him.”

> “She probably begged her stylist to find the same watch. Desperate much?”

> “They think we don’t notice these PR stunts? Same watch? Come on.”

> “Another pretty face getting ahead because of who she’s dating. Disappointing.”

> “She looks smug in every photo. Always trying too hard.”

> “I miss when he used to be private. This all feels so forced.”

> “Is she even qualified to sit in on business meetings, or is it just pillow talk access?”

But not everyone was buying into the hate:

> “I don’t care what anyone says. They look so good together.”

> “She’s the only one who matches his vibe tbh. Cold outside, warm when it matters.”

> “If this is PR, then PR needs a raise because the chemistry is insane.”

> “Lowkey shipping them.”

> “They literally breathe the same air. Soulmates, maybe?”

Jisoo’s thumb hovered over the screen, ready to shut off the relentless stream of negativity.

Her eyes had grown tired. Her expression was unreadable—neutral, composed, almost detached—but the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her irritation. She had seen it all before. The snide comments, the assumptions, the accusations. It always came with the territory, especially when the headlines hinted at romance and power in the same breath.