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Perfect Reservation (1) — hoonsuk!

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first, meet the boys.

"WELCOME TO THE RADCLIFFE HOTEL," greeted a man by the welcome mat, lowering his head at the entrance of two elderlys through the spinning door. Sewing a pleasurable smile on his lips with shoulders tight back, he gently conducted their direction with his flat palm. "Please, the front desk is this way."

The elderlys simpered and made their way inside the lobby. He then looked at the doorman man that trailed behind the ancient ladies, dragging their suitcases with his two lanky hands and a slouched back. Letting out a strict cough was enough to catch the amateure doorman's attention, with the manager's sharp glare. Without hesitation, he straightened his spine, toughened his arms, and stitched a cheek to cheek grin on his face.

Nodding, he turned around and strode back inside, fully satisfied.

It wasn't enough to count his short almost five years of experience to be called fully proficient in his field. But managing this hotel so far has been quite the excitement, and he had always been an expert at the few skills he had. So, no wonder at such a young age, he was contracted as the new manager of the hotel, even with such little experience. He had gained much of the owner's trust, to the point where he was welcome to call it his own. His life had always been about offering the best service, giving all his effort to reach their expectations and risk his all. He enjoyed all that, he was made for all that. Being a manager meant more than just a job for him, it meant his whole life.

Choi Hyunsuk strided over to the front counter, where he found the receptionist handing the ladies from before their keys with her two polite hands. After giving them a small bow, she turned around to the manager and excused herself for a jiffy, needing to grab a few files from behind. Hyunsuk assured her that he would be watching over, and she thanked him, before dashing off, quick yet amiably.

He glided his hand on the neat red striped necktie, fixing it to fit his white blouse that firm around his neck. His dark grey attire was aptly worn and it still had the scent of a warm iron cloth in the early brick of dawn. Paired with his most sterile dress jetblack shoe, a proud oval shaped badge clinged on the left side of his chest, gleaming with the it's golden plate everytime under the lavish chandelier of the Radcliffe's cavernous lobby. Hyunsuk stepped behind the counter, checking over the computer's binded data.

For a good minute, he didn't realise the young lad that had crouched down under the mahogany desk. Hyunsuk flinched off his feet, before composing himself back, hunching down under. There, the boy had pulled his knees to his chest, slipping his petite body at the very back corner. He had his face buried in his arms, but seemed to realise someone had stared at him rather bewildered. Lifting up his chin, the boy silently gasped and fluttered a small wave with his bitty palm.

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