As Jess entered the office, her eyes scanned the modern decor—sleek, minimalist furniture complemented by splashes of vibrant artwork adorning the walls. The room exuded an air of professionalism mixed with a touch of casual elegance, reflecting the personality of its occupants.
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on - you're saying you got framed during a one-night stand?" Jess exclaimed, her voice echoing lightly against the polished surfaces. I sighed, feeling a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, my attire casual yet presentable, wearing shorts and a beige top with a side bag slung over my shoulder."Maybe I was just blinded by her beauty," I admitted, leaning against the table, the cool surface offering a slight reprieve from the tension in the room.
Jess gave me an incredulous look, her expression a blend of disbelief and determination."I won't accept that for an answer," she declared, her tone firm as she circled the desk. I scooted out of her way, knowing that once Jess had a task in mind, there was no stopping her. With purposeful strides, she gathered some paperwork, her movements precise and efficient."You never do," I sighed, recognizing the familiar pattern of our interactions. Jess was always the one to push for answers, to delve deeper into the heart of the matter.
"What did you drink that night? Were you ever seen outside, when did you enter the hotel and how many people saw your face that night?" Jess fired off her questions rapid-fire, her gaze intent as she sought to unravel the mystery surrounding my predicament."Uh, gin and tonic, no, I don't know, and maybe three?" I responded, the memories of that fateful night swirling in my mind as I struggled to recall the details. Jess nodded, her mind already working overtime as she pieced together the puzzle before us. In that moment, I knew that with Jess on my side, we stood a fighting chance to uncover the truth and clear my name.
Jess sighed, her frustration palpable as she processed the situation. "This would be easier if Kodiak was the thief, but this is you. Whoever did this knew your name and had a field day with it," she observed, her tone tinged with a hint of exasperation. I shifted uncomfortably, fully aware of the implications."And I think it was the girl you slept with," Jess continued matter-of-factly, her gaze piercing. My eyes widened in surprise. "H-how did you..." I began, only to be interrupted by Jess's blunt assessment.
"It was a Tuesday, of course you were getting laid," she stated flatly, her words cutting through the tension in the room. I sighed, feeling exposed under her scrutiny. "All I need is a name, and it'll all be over," she insisted, her voice firm with determination.Silence descended upon the room as I wrestled with conflicting emotions. "I can't," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Jess tilted her head, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Why not?" she demanded, her tone unwavering.
"She doesn't deserve to be ambushed by your... your posse!" I protested, my words coming out in a rush as I defended the girl in question. Jess raised a skeptical eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. "Besides, why does everyone think she's a thief?" I added, hoping to sway Jess's resolve.
Jessica inhaled sharply, her patience wearing thin. "Name, now," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for further debate. It was clear that she was not going to let this go until she had all the information she needed to unravel the truth.
"Her name is Kate," I corrected myself hastily, the urgency evident in my voice. Jess raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable for a moment before she nodded, taking in the new information.
"Kate," she repeated, as if testing the name on her tongue. "Thank you for being honest," she said, her tone softer now, tinged with a hint of compassion. "I'll handle the rest."
With a sense of relief mingled with apprehension, I watched as Jess turned back to her task, her focus unwavering as she delved deeper into the tangled web of deceit that had ensnared me.
As the minutes turned into hours, I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavy on my conscience. Despite my reluctance to betray Kate's trust, I knew that Jess's relentless pursuit of the truth left me with no other choice.
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Being friends with Jessica meant spending a lot of time near the printers in her vicinity. As I sipped on my americano, I waited patiently for the papers to finish printing.
"Need any help?" I heard a voice behind me. I turned to see Candy, the boss's assistant—or, in more candid terms, his right-hand woman. Candy was always eager to lend a hand, but our history added a layer of complexity to our interactions.
"Candy," I acknowledged with a nod. Despite her helpful nature, our previous entanglements had taught me to tread carefully. Sure, she was attractive and willing, but the repercussions of crossing that line were more trouble than they were worth.
We had slept together a few times, but I had put an end to it once I realized the depth of her attachment. Candy had a habit of getting too emotionally involved too quickly, and when jealousy reared its head, she's not exactly the sweetest.
she could be downright unpleasant.
I knew better than to invite unnecessary complications into my already complicated life. With a polite smile, I declined her assistance and returned my attention to the printing papers, hoping to avoid any further complications.
As I returned to the office with the freshly printed papers in hand, I was greeted by a surprising sight. The office seemed to have undergone a renovation since my last visit, though the changes appeared to be more of an organized chaos rather than a complete overhaul.
Papers and documents were strewn across desks and tables, creating a somewhat cluttered yet strangely functional atmosphere. Despite the apparent disarray, there was a method to the madness, with stacks of papers arranged in neat piles and labeled folders lining the shelves.
In one corner, a bulletin board served as a focal point, adorned with an eclectic mix of notes, memos, and photographs. It was a snapshot of the office's collective consciousness, a visual representation of the various projects and tasks that occupied our attention.
"Here," I said, my voice tinged with a hint of bemusement as I looked around at the organized chaos before me. It was clear that despite the apparent mess, there was a sense of productivity and purpose underlying the chaos.
As Jess took the papers from me, her focused demeanor was palpable. Her slender fingers skimmed through the documents methodically, her brow furrowing slightly as she absorbed the information. With a decisive nod, she rose from her seat, the distinct click of her heels echoing in the office.
I observed her with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation as she approached the bulletin board, her movements deliberate and purposeful. With practiced precision, she pinned some of the papers to the board, arranging them in a manner that conveyed both order and urgency.
Turning to face me, Jess took a deep breath, her expression grave. "I have bad news," she announced solemnly, her voice carrying the weight of the revelation. My heart sank at her words, a sense of foreboding settling over me like a heavy shroud.
"What is it?" I asked, trying to mask my growing apprehension with a forced smile. Jess's serious demeanor was hard to ignore, and I awaited her response with bated breath.
Her gaze met mine, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and resolve. "This is going to be harder than I expected, for me, for you, and for everybody in this building," she admitted, her tone somber and resolute.
I attempted to lighten the mood with a touch of humor, remarking, "Can't be worse than dealing with the boss, right?" But Jess's solemn shake of the head dashed any hopes of levity.
She approached me, her movements purposeful, and handed me a file. Placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, she wordlessly conveyed her support before turning to leave. As she exited the room, leaving me alone with the weight of her words, I furrowed my brows and turned my attention to the file in my hands.
The name 'Kate's file' stared back at me, sending a shiver down my spine.
Without hesitating, I flipped open the file, eager to uncover the contents that had spurred such a sense of urgency in Jess. My eyes widened as I read the name at the top of the page: Kang Haerin. Top secret. Undercover agent?
My heart pounded in my chest as I processed the implications of the information before me. Kang Haerin—an undercover agent? But that wasn't the most shocking revelation. My gaze dropped to the next line, and a cold realization washed over me: Works at Citadel Defense Directorate.
The pieces fell into place with alarming clarity. I had slept with the enemy.
A wave of disbelief and betrayal washed over me as I grappled with the implications of my actions. How could I have been so careless, so blind to the truth? The very person I had become entangled with, the one I had allowed into my life, was working against everything I stood for.
As the reality of the situation sank in, a whirlwind of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. With trembling hands, I set the file down, the weight of its contents heavy on my mind. But before I could process the full extent of what I had just learned, the familiar tug of alcohol's numbing embrace beckoned to me.
With a sigh, I reached for the bottle of whiskey tucked away in the bottom drawer of my desk. The burn of the liquor as it slid down my throat offered a temporary respite from the turmoil raging within me. But with each swig, the floodgates of my emotions threatened to burst open, washing over me in a tide of raw vulnerability.
Memories of past regrets and betrayals swirled in my mind, mingling with the fresh wounds inflicted by the revelation of Kang Haerin's true identity. Anger, betrayal, and self-loathing battled for dominance within me, threatening to consume me whole.
In my drunken haze, rational thought gave way to impulsive recklessness. I slammed the file shut, unable to bear the weight of its contents any longer. With a muffled curse, I hurled it across the room, the sound of its impact echoing in the empty office.
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As you're probably aware, I tend to be quite the emotional drunk. So here I am, sprawled out on my rented couch in my equally rented apartment, nursing the aftermath of a particularly eventful night. Jessica, ever the problem-solver, had the brilliant idea of providing me with a nice place to lay low while I'm undercover. And to her credit, the place did look nice when she first showed it to me about four hours ago.
Now, however, the initial charm had worn off a bit. The chic and modern decor still held its allure, with open rooms, a fluffy rug underfoot, and tall windows that offered glimpses of the city beyond. But in my current state, I had closed those windows, seeking solace in the dimly lit interior as I balanced a half-eaten box of Chinese food in one hand and the TV remote in the other.
The news channel played on a loop in the background, the repetitive drone of headlines and updates serving as a constant reminder of the chaos swirling outside these walls. And as I sat there, my mind fogged with the remnants of last night's revelry, one thing became abundantly clear—I had no recollection of the events that had transpired in the hours since Jessica left.But that was par for the course when it came to me and alcohol. Once I crossed that threshold into inebriation, the details of my actions became a murky haze, lost to the depths of my subconscious until the harsh light of sobriety brought them back into focus. And as I stared blankly at the flickering images on the screen, I couldn't help but wonder what I had done to land myself in this predicament, and how I would navigate my way out of it in the sober light of day.
As James Anderson's voice filters through the haze, I strain to catch his words, but they blur together in a cacophony of noise. "Sarah," I mumble, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion, threatening to shut out the world. Yet, they stubbornly flutter open again, revealing the dimly lit room bathed in a deep, dark blue hue, cast by the glow of the television screen.
On the TV, cameras whirr and pan, capturing every moment of the unfolding news report. My heart lurches as the lens zooms in on a familiar face—my face—masked and hooded, but unmistakably mine. Panic grips me as I realize what this means. But then, a flicker of confusion breaks through the fear. Blonde hair? That can't be right.
With a sudden jolt, I shoot up from the couch, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "It's not me," I whisper frantically, my voice barely audible over the din of the news broadcast. "It wasn't me!"
In my haste, I lose my balance and tumble to the floor with a groan, but the urgency of the situation propels me forward. I scramble on my forearms, inching closer to the television, my legs wiggling with anticipation. With trembling hands, I rewind the footage, my heart hammering in my chest.
"Zoom," I command, my voice trembling with desperation as I watch the screen closely. The image freezes, and I pause, holding my breath. Then, with trembling fingers, I press play, the scene unfolding in agonizing slow motion.
And there it is, clear as day—a flash of blonde hair, a detail overlooked in the chaos of the moment. Relief floods through me, mingled with a surge of determination. The real thief has been unmasked, and it's not me. With newfound resolve, I push myself upright,
I fumbled for my new Nokia phone, fingers clumsily navigating the keypad as I dialed Jessica's number. It rang three times before she finally answered, her voice laced with a mixture of annoyance and concern."Are you calling because you need more Wingstop or because you're seeing exactly what I'm seeing?" she immediately asked, her words tumbling out in a rapid-fire stream that made my head spin. With a shake of my head to clear the fog of intoxication, I focused on the matter at hand.
"The second one," I managed to slur out, my tongue feeling heavy and sluggish in my mouth."Good, I'm reporting it back to the database. Hyein's got it under control," Jessica replied, her tone brisk and businesslike."Wa-wait, I wanna help," I protested, the words stumbling over each other as they left my lips.
"You've done enough, Minji. Just lay low and don't let anyone see you. Just because we've got a little bit of leverage doesn't mean we have the upper hand," she admonished, her voice firm and authoritative.
Isighed in resignation, the weight of her words settling heavily on my shoulders. There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line as I struggled to come to terms with my limitations."The best you can do is put the bottle away. I can almost smell the booze through the phone," Jessica added, her words a sharp reminder of my current state."On it!" I declared with false bravado, the sound of my own voice ringing hollow in my ears as I hastily ended the call, the reality of my situation crashing down around me like a wave.
We were getting somewhere, right?
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Note 💌: comment if you enjoyed this chapter and if you want more.
Haerin's file