THE MANAGER NIM

18. TIGER LILY

• Shikoro - Shut up
• Dangsin muo hae? - what are you doing?
• Byuntae - Pervert

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The door is the shade of pearl river grey, sheeny and sleeky, inlaid with a Cotswold glass panel, translucent patterns of climber vines trails all over the panel. Pale amber tiger lilies adorning those vines, sprouted near the biometric door lock in various shapes.

Recklessly gasping for oxygen like a doggo which went for a morning walk, you stand in front of the said door.

Your finger lingers over the intercom doorbell for a few minutes and presses it hesitantly. You don't even know what awaits you beside this door.

Soon enough the fancy door opens, leaving a shy peek of the room inside, which is suffused with collyrium black.

Although you love all the horror and creepy stuff to a level where it is considered as an obsession, to walk inside a strange, dark room at this hour, feels quite nerve-racking.

Somehow you manage to muster up a feeling of courage and step inside the room, with your mobile's torchlight.

The darkness permeating the room seems darker than vantablack itself and it is almost impossible for you to figure out where you're heading towards and where the light switches are, so you continue to proceed further by sliding your palm against the wall.

Suddenly, something gets smashed under your foot and a cold fluid engulfs your heel. The moment you shift the ray of light towards your foot to find what you stepped upon, an arm encircles around your wrist in which you're holding your phone, in a tight grip.

"Jai Shri Ram, Bi-smi llāhi, in the name of Jesus I command you Satan to leave_"

"Ya gom! Shikoro!" A familiar voice reverberates throughout the room.

Promptly, the entire room lights up, your squeezed shut eyes begin to flutter open and lands on a pale 'grudge ghost' which is slumping over the couch upside down, but a handsome one.

"MR JEON! WHERE IS YOUR FRICKING SHIRT?!" Your lungs explode off.

"And why is your hair sweeping the floor while legs are placed over the couch's headrest, it's a holy headrest, not a broccoli footrest! Tell me something, do you even know the spelling of normal Mr Golden maknae? You scared the bejesus outta me!"

You exclaim as a fused upshot of anger and humiliation.

He hoists his loosely dangling head indolently and peers into the wall clock hanging over the wall.

"10:15, hmm not bad manager-gom but from next time onwards be on time." His throaty voice notifies that he was sleeping all this while, in this position.

Inhaling deeply, "What's the matter, Mr Jeon?" you enquire him with a stone face, in a grave voice.

His closed eyelids open sharply and he jumps outta the couch in a flash. Drawing himself closer to you, he examines your face for a solid minute.

"I knew, I was right!" His minty breath teases your nostrils.

"What?" You want to brawl with this loon, but instead, enquire calmly considering your position and energy level.

"You have a mole near your lower lip not near the upper lip." He says without averting his eyes from your lips.

"Woah! New invention Mr Jeon, I've never noticed it since birth, thanks for letting me know. Now, can you kindly tell me why you made me run here, all the way from my house in Usain bolt's speed?"

"I was breaking my head about the exact location of your mole, hence I called you to make sure where it was. Now, my doubts are cleared and I'll sleep in peace. you may leave manager-nim!" He says apathetically and slouches over the couch again.