Every Little Reason | BTS

3 | Magnetized

K i m J i n h e e

I heard my boss cleared his throat for the hundredth time. "I'm sorry to say this Mia... But it appears that your position in this company is no longer necessary."

My heart plummeted to my stomach as soon as I heard that declaration from his mouth. I sat on the chair's edge, spine straight as a new pencil, my mouth gaped in disbelief.

"Please tell me you're joking, Tim," I said, hoping my boss would reveal that this was just a hidden camera prank.

A mocking chortle was heard in the room. I threw a glare at the other human being existed in this office other than my boss, Ivy Quinn—my client. For the past few months, I had been working as her personal stylist, and trust me, it had been months of hell because apparently Ivy Quinn—the infamous Pop Star—had been acting like nothing but a total brat.

Even now, she looked like she was about to jump up and down in joy because it seemed like her brilliant idea to kick me out of this company would work in just a matter of seconds.

"I'm not joking, Mia. Do you know how much damage you have caused to our company and Ivy because of your shitty sense of fashion?" Tim threw a stack of articles on the long desk which I recognized the bold headlines from TMZ, Hollywood life and E! News.

'Ivy Quinn exposes pierced nipples in the Golden Globe Awards red carpet'

'Ivy Quinn flashes bare boobs and nipple piercing in completely see-through top on red carpet'

"Tim, I swear I didn't do this. No stylist in their right mind would choose that 'shitty' fashion to put on their artist. I'm still sane enough to differentiate between fashioning and flashing," I gathered all my courage to defend myself by telling the whole truth.

I remembered I had styled Ivy in a beautiful-elaborated swan dress for the red carpet. But who would have guessed it would come down to this? Unless it was planned by the spoiled brat herself.

"What are you saying, Mia? You asked me to go braless and just wear a sheer top, didn't you? Come on, don't play the victim here." Ivy stood up from the leather couch and approached me with crossed arms.

"What?" I furrowed my brows upon hearing her ridiculous accusation.

She then pushed my shoulder with squinted eyes. "Admit it, you're just jealous of my popularity and now you're trying to bring me down, aren't you? So pathetic."

Ivy had made it exceedingly clear that she despised me ever since the first time we met each other. In fact, she hated me with much passion. She treated me like I was her slave; doing her makeup, fixed her makeup, find her clothes, wear her clothes for her. I was after all her personal stylist. Yet, I kept my anger in the whole time. I was new to my emotions, so I barely fought back. But I guessed she had missed out the basic knowledge about human, that people have their limitations in holding their emotions intact.

However, I didn't do anything reckless. In those few minutes, I tried to calm myself down and think optimistically about the situation. I glanced at Tim who had his fingers crossed under his chin, looking at me in slight disappointment. But his gaze was telling me something else too, as though he knew it was his artist's wrongdoings. Of course, he was also aware of Ivy's hatred towards me for the past few months I had worked for him.

But at this point, it was either he let me go or Ivy, though the latter would seem ridiculously impossible because Ivy Quinn was the one who brought cash to this company—to Tim, with her gifted talents. While I contributed almost nothing. I hated that she was the arrogant bastard who ruled this place, so everyone had to listen to her. I didn't have much choice, did I?