𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥: 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘫𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 ∙ 𝘖𝘯𝘦

I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn my hair; it just won't behave, and damn Irene for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal because . I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission.

"I must not go to sleep with it wet. I must not go to bed with my hair wet."

I recite this mantra several times. I attempt, once more ,to bring my hair under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at the pale, brown-haired girl with blue eyes too big for her face staring back at me, and give up. My only option for now is to restrain my wayward hair in a ponytail and hope I look at least semi presentable.

I am helping my roommate, Irene. Unfortunately , today of all days she has chosen to succumb to the flu. Therefore, she is unable to attend the interview she'd arranged to do, with some mega-industrialist tycoon in which I've never heard of.

I decided on assisting her for the simple fact that this is for our schools student newspaper. So I somehow volunteered...involuntarily.

I have final exams to cram for, one essay to finish, and supposedly going to work this afternoon, but no- today I have to drive a one hundred and sixty miles to downtown Busan in order to meet the enigmatic CEO of Park Enterprises & Holdings Inc.

As an exceptional entrepreneur and major benefactor of our University, his time is extraordinary precious- much more than mine- but he has granted Irene an interview. A real coup, she tells me, damn her extra-curricular activities.

The thought causing my face to morph into that of pure anxiety. I lean my body against the grey colored granite surface of the sink as my mind begins to jumble around with thoughts.

I take three short breaths calming myself down. I stay there for awhile before deciding to walk out the bathroom. Turning the corner I enter the living room.

In the living room I notice something shift on the coach catching my attention. Irene laid comfortably on the coach wrapped in multiple fuzzy blankets. I let out a soft laugh as I notice her position. One leg hung off the arm of the coach, her left arm was bent resting on her thigh while the other was covered by the many blankets stacked together.

She looked up giving me a small smile. Her toothy grin gave me enough clarification that she would be fine without me. She leaned forward grabbing the black and silver Element remote muting the show. She through the remote on the coach before shifting upwards.

I have been taking care of her these past few days and she should be her usual self in a couple more days. Her being sick is the only reason I agreed to go to the interview. Well that and because she promised I'd get to drive her car. I personally believe my worn down Toyota wouldn't last a drive to a local gas station and besides driving a 2020 Audi beats driving my beat down piece of metal any day.

"Bell I'm sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. It would take another six to reschedule, and we'll both have graduate by then. As the editor , I can't blow this off." She begs me.

Her voice cracked due to the sore throat she had. Although, she is ill she looks gamine and gorgeous. Her strawberry blond hair didn't have a strand out of place, her forest green eyes shone brightly, even though now, red-rimmed and teary.
Irene complexion has never ceased to amaze me, her nose red and runny. She sniffs here and there, but even so her overall appearance is as if she doesn't have the flu.

Her voice always made me forget that I've had any ill-will toward her. I ignore the slight pang if guilt, the unwelcome sympathy in my chest. I sigh "Of course, I don't think you would of asked me if this wasn't important. I know how much you put into being a editor." Reassuring her with a smile before I grab my favorite brown-heeled boots. Leaning against the doorway for balance I quickly slip them on.

"I know you said you didn't know anything about the CEO, so I prepared questions for you to ask and highlighted tips for you." She hands me a recorder along with her journal.

Hearing this a heavy weight lifts off my shoulders. She smiles genuinely, the soles of her eyes crinkle from the action. I give her one last smile grabbing my small, black, cross-body purse.

"Now get going, or you'll be late, and I need this interview!" She exclaims while shoving me toward the apartment door. "Here." I turn around just in time to see her throw something. Catching it in my hand I smirk. My eyes widen as she winks closing the door.

Opening my hand I jiggle the chain holding four keys together, one of them belonging to Irene's Red Audi. I follow the concrete pathway to the parking lot. I quickly find the red beauty becoming mesmerized.

I always wanted a car similar to hers, but never could because financially my family was struggling. I came here on a Hope scholarship, but I pushed wants aside and hurried to find a well paying job. I didn't want to be in a load of debt by the time I graduated, even so, I at least wanted to be a couple hundred in debt.

I glide my fingers across the metal surface. Grabbing the handle I unlock the car hearing it click. Sliding inside my rear coming in contact with leather fabric. After a minute or two of adjusting the seat and mirrors to my liking I was on the road.

The roads are clear, traffic isn't as heavy as I assumed it to be. The drive to Busan is shorter than expected and I am surprised when I hear my phone buzz and the automatic voice declares my arrival. Looking up to see a twenty-five story building, all carved in glass and steel, an architects utilitarian fantasy.

With the world bowing at his feet, Mr.Park could put any one to shame, or that's what google said when I asked about the man I am interviewing on the drive here.

The words Park House was displayed in bold,white, letters above the entrance. Standing outside the building with my mouth ajar; I probably looked crazy to those passing by. I took a deep breath pulling my jacket sleeves to cover my hands before placing them on the glass door.

As I walked up to the secretary's desk my eyes wandered the area like a child at a grown up gathering. I didn't belong here.

Behind the desk a very attractive, groomed, blond young women smiles politely at me. I sigh relieved to not be looked down on by such a female. Compared to her I wasn't even considered a female to the men she comes in contact with, and it shows how out of place I am.

"Hi," I smile nervously.