Fatescript

"Soft Persuasions"

She sat at her desk, a steaming paper cup of coffee balanced precariously on a stack of blueprints. Her fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard, nails tapping a rhythm only she understood. Numbers filled the screen, lined up in precise columns—budgets, schedules, supply reports. She adjusted figures, highlighted sections, then leaned back to sip from her cup. The bitter taste grounded her, reminding her she hadn’t eaten properly since morning.

The muffled hum of the city outside reminded her she wasn’t alone. Even in her office, high above the street, the world carried itself to her through sound. Car horns layered into a restless chorus. Shouts from pedestrians, street vendors calling out in the distance—all of it mixed into an urban song she had grown used to, but tonight it pressed against her ears, refusing to fade into background noise.

She rubbed her temple briefly before pulling herself upright again. The dim light inside her office clashed with the twilight spilling through the windows, shadows stretching across her desk. Her computer screen glowed brighter in contrast, forcing her eyes to narrow slightly as she focused on the shifting lines of data. She typed another series of notes, fingers quick but deliberate, then set her coffee aside.

For a moment, she let herself pause, hands hovering over the keyboard. The past weeks had been relentless—balancing work and wedding preparations. Yet here she was, still pushing forward, refusing to let the chaos bend her. She exhaled deeply, brushed the dust from her sleeve, and returned to the task before her, determined to finish before the night swallowed the city whole.

***

The car rolled through the evening traffic, headlights from passing vehicles flashing briefly across the interior. Jisoo sat with her phone in hand, thumb moving quickly across the screen as she exchanged messages with her younger brother. Beside her, Hwa-jin leaned against the window, watching the blur of city lights with an expression caught somewhere between fatigue and calculation.

After several minutes of silence, Hwa-jin shifted slightly and turned her gaze toward Jisoo. “Did Seona tell you about the invitation from Mr. Lee?” she asked, her tone calm but laced with expectation. “For his son’s engagement party.”

Jisoo didn’t immediately glance up, her eyes still fixed on the glowing screen in her palm. “No,” she answered simply, voice casual, distracted.

Hwa-jin continued, her voice firmer now. “They invited both of us. I won’t be able to attend—I have other matters to handle. That means you’ll need to go there alone."

Still tapping her screen, Jisoo replied without hesitation, “I’m busy too.”

“I’ve seen your schedule,” Hwa-jin countered, her tone sharp but not unkind. “You’re free.”

At that, Jisoo finally lifted her head, her dark eyes locking onto her Mother’s. “Not anymore,” she said quietly but with conviction. “I have something personal to do.”

“Delay it,” Hwa-jin pressed, brows drawing together as she held her daughter's gaze, unwilling to back down.

Jisoo shook her head, firm and steady. “No.”

There was a pause, the tension thickening inside the car as the traffic lights flickered outside. Then Hwa-jin exhaled slowly, her voice clipped but measured. “It’s ill-mannered if neither of us goes. They extended an invitation to both, and if we refuse entirely, it could affect the partnership we’ve built with them.”

Jisoo leaned back against the leather seat, her fingers tightening briefly around her phone. “Then send Sooyaa instead,” she suggested, her voice even but edged with impatience.

“She’s not comfortable at unfamiliar parties,” Hwa-jin retorted, her words carrying a hint of frustration.

Jisoo arched a brow, her tone cool yet pointed. “And you think I’m comfortable with it?”