"Why does this always happen when I'm late?" I grumbled under my breath, standing at the bus stop, practically dancing in frustration.
I tried to act normal like I hadn't just dreamt of a pale, broken Minjae sobbing my name before throwing himself off a balcony.
"It's already 9:36! Where is this stupid bus?!"
Of course, today had to be the day the universe chose to mess with me. I blame the dream.
Because of it, I woke up late, missed my bus, and now I'm late for work, where I'll no doubt be chewed out by Mr. Kim, my perpetually grumpy boss who probably has a PhD in scolding.
Just as I was cursing the universe for everything, I suddenly heard a melody.
Ring. Ring. Riiiiiing.
Guess who?
Mr. Kim.
"Oh, great," I muttered. He found out I'm late and is probably calling to yell at me now.
Pick up and get yelled at... or don't pick up and still get yelled at.
Fantastic choices.
Fan I took a deep breath, channeling the same fake sweet and shy voice I use every day as Nerd Jiwoo
"Hello, good morning, Mr. Kim..."
"Ah, my dear Mr. Han!" he said cheerfully. And was that... a smile in his voice?
Wait. What just happened?
Mr. Kim called me dear? I stared at my phone screen like it might morph into someone else's number. Nope. Still, Mr. Kim.
I had fully braced for yelling the moment I picked up. Instead, I was surprised when he greeted me with a sweet voice.
I cleared my throat and responded in the softest voice I could manage.
"Yes, Mr. Kim?"
"Where are you? What time will you be in?"
"I'm stuck in traffic. It might take me about an hour..." I lied, already planning to ditch the bus and take a cab.
"No worries! I have one good news and one bad news. Come quickly, I'll update you in person."
He hung up with a weirdly cheerful hum.
Okay. What?
First of all: no yelling.
Second: smiling voice.
Third: "good and bad news"? That's literally how horror movies start.
I muttered a silent prayer and jumped into the first taxi I could find, waving goodbye to my poor wallet.
"12,000 won. Rest in peace," I whispered dramatically as the meter ticked up.
I finally made it to the office by 10:20, slightly sweaty, deeply paranoid, and still haunted by the fact that my webtoon boyfriend, Minjae, jumped from the balcony in my dream like it was his personal playground. Add to that the mysterious "good and bad news" from Mr. Kim, and my morning was already an emotional rollercoaster.
As I stepped into the elevator, something felt... off. The lighting was unusually bright. Suspiciously cheerful. Like the walls were in on a secret I hadn't been told.
As I stepped into the elevator, something felt... off. The lighting was unusually bright. Suspiciously cheerful. Like the walls were in on a secret I hadn't been told.
Then "Miss Seo" entered the chief secretary of Modeamour, the fashion brand where I work here in Seoul.
"Good morning, Miss Seo"
She smiled at me. No...correction, she smirked.
"Congratulations, Jiwoo."
Huh? Congratulations?
"...For what?"
"You'll find out soon," she said, with a smile so sarcastic it could win awards.
What is this? A prank day? Am I on some hidden camera show?
And as I kept thinking about this mysterious "good and bad news", I could feel it that eerie silence before a tsunami hits.
The kind where everything seems weirdly fine... right before the wave crashes down and destroys your life.
I walked into the design department as fast as I could. And guess what?
I was instantly greeted by claps, cheers, confetti, and someone blasting a victory song from their phone.
Like... what the actual hell is happening today?
I scanned the room, heart pounding. Mr. Kim was walking toward me, holding a letter and wearing the world's creepiest smile.
Is it a firing letter? Is this my farewell party?
"I—I swear I sent the designs in last night!" I blurted.
"Mr. Han," he said, patting my back like a proud grandfather.
"Yes, Mr. Kim?"
"So... want the good news or the bad news first?"
"Let's get the bad one out of the way," I said, bracing myself for unemployment.
"Alright," he said cheerfully. "You're leaving the company."
My brain short-circuited.
Goodbye, dreams. Goodbye, paycheck. Hello, living under a bridge.
Then he added, "Because you've been promoted to our head branch."
"HUH?!"
"Surprise!" he chuckled. "You're being transferred to Nova Muse Entertainment, the biggest entertainment company that just acquired Modeamour. You've been promoted to Senior Creative Designer. And your latest design? It's been selected for Fashion Week in Paris"
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Transfer?
Promotion??
Nova Muse Entertainment??
Fashion Week in Paris???
Was I still dreaming?
With a shaky, doubtful voice, I turned to Mr. Kim and asked,
"Sir... are you sure you called the right Han Jiwoo?"
Mr. Kim laughed. "Unless we've got another talented, introverted, fashion-obsessed Jiwoo hiding somewhere..."
Then, with confidence in his voice and a rare sparkle of approval in his eyes, he added,
"Yes, you, Mr. Han. You."
I stood frozen for a solid five seconds before screaming internally.
My design. Paris. Head office. Senior title.
I could finally afford my new limited edition "Nyva" Shoes...
Mr. Kim handed me my promotion letter, and I was happy-crying on the inside. He asked me to fill out some transfer paperwork, so I went back to my desk to get it done.
I was halfway through filling the forms when I heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Congrats, Mr. Cloutmouth."
I nearly choked. "Jeon Mi-Young! Do you want to scream my secret across the entire office next?"
"Yeah, why not?" she said with a grin. "They deserve to know the sly fox hiding behind that innocent face."
She winked. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Unless you forget to buy me lunch again."
Mi-Young had been my best friend since high school. She knew everything, my dreams, about Minjae, and the fact that I am Cloutmouth.
She casually plopped down onto my desk. "You do know this is huge, right? You're going to the main office. This is where the cool, shiny people work."
I slumped over. "Do I have to wear proper pants every day now?"
"Yup. And speak in full sentences. No more hoodie cloaking."
I let out a long, dramatic sigh.
Mi-Young burst into laughter. "I'm just kidding. Don't wimp out like a sad puppy now."
She flicked my forehead. "Acting like a nerd all your life, and now look where you've ended up."
"Ouch! Mi-Young, that hurts."
She softened, eyes gleaming. "You deserve this."
Then, with a mock pout, she added, "How could you forget about me?"
"And guess what? I'm coming with you."
"Huh?!"
"I'm being transferred with you. As Senior Fashion Designer. We'll be working together on the Paris Fashion Week project."
I smirked at her. "You're never gonna leave me alone, huh?"
She grinned. "Nope. I'm a leech, remember? Permanently attached."
I laughed. "Well, I'm so proud of you, my girl."
She flicked her hair dramatically. "Let's enjoy our lives now, a new journey awaits us. Lots of money. And the handsome men of Nova Muse."
We both burst into uncontrollable laughter, half from the joy, half from the sheer disbelief that this was real.
Just as we were celebrating, Mr. Kim called out, "Everyone, please gather. Our new president is about to arrive."
"Do you know who he is?" I whispered to Mi-Young.
"I heard he's from the U.S. A big-shot. A charming playboy. Definitely your type," she teased.
"My type? Please. If I wanted heartbreak, I'd just text my ex."
Still, I couldn't deny I was curious.
"Mr. Han," Mr. Kim called, "take the bouquet and greet Mr. Kang."
"Me?! Why me?"
"You're the Senior Creative now. Do it."
I grabbed the bouquet, pasted on a smile so fake I almost felt guilty, and walked toward the entrance like I hadn't just been mentally spiraling for the past two hours.
Nothing could ruin today.
That's what I thought.
The elevator dinged.
Out stepped a tall figure in a sleek black suit. Effortlessly handsome. The kind of jawline that could cut diamonds. Hair like it belonged in a shampoo commercial.
He walked in with quiet confidence, people bowing around him like he was royalty.
My smile dropped.
I stood there frozen.
Mr. Kim stepped forward, grinning wide. "Welcome, Mr. Kang. And congratulations on becoming the new president of Nova Muse."
No. Freaking. Way.
Mi-Young whispered beside me, "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
Because I had.
The new president...
Was Kang Minjae.
The Minjae. From my comic, The Men From Nowhere.
The dream-version Minjae who had haunted my sleep for years.
The Minjae I had made up. Drawn. Fallen for. Dreamed about.
He was now standing right in front of me.
Not as a ghost. Not in my head.
But as a living, breathing, dangerously attractive human man.
And now?
He was walking straight toward me.
He stopped right in front of me, raised an eyebrow, and smirked.
"Well, well," he said, voice deeper and smoother than I remembered. "What are you glaring at? I know I'm handsome, but no need to look like I ruined your life."
I nearly dropped the flowers.
My fingers clenched the bouquet like it was a lifeline. My brain was screaming. My soul had already left the building.
Why is he here? How is he here?? Did I summon him this morning ??
He was still staring at me, casually smirking.
"I—uh—welcome... President Kang..." I managed to stammer, holding out the bouquet with the grace of a malfunctioning vending machine.
His fingers brushed mine as he took it.
Warm. Solid. Real.
I might've blacked out for a full second.
I forgot how to breathe. My lungs were on strike. My brain was throwing confetti and screaming YOU'RE DOOMED.
"I... need... air," I gasped. "Excuse me."
And just like that, I turned on my heel and walked off—no, escaped—before I passed out or did something truly embarrassing.
I ran like a mouse that had just slipped out of a cat's claws barely escaping being eaten alive.
Behind me, I heard footsteps. Mi-Young.
"Jiwoo!" she called, catching up. "What happened? Why did you run off like that?"
I turned, breathless, heart pounding like I'd just finished a marathon. "He... he is..he's Minjae!"
She frowned. "Take a breath first, drama queen. Then speak."
I sucked in a deep one, trying not to hyperventilate.
"He's Kang Minjae. The Kang Minjae. The one from my dream. From my comic."
Mi-Young blinked. "Wait what ?? Minjae? Your Minjae?"
"Yes! Yes!"
She stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "Jiwoo... are you hearing yourself right now? He's a character. You drew him. How could he just... show up here?!"
"I don't know!" I half-sobbed. "But he's here. And real. And hotter in person, which is honestly unfair!"
Mi-Young stepped closer, squinting at me. "Okay, seriously are you drunk? Because you sound drunk, bro."
"I'm not drunk!" I said, fumbling with my phone. "Just look!"
I pulled up the clean sketch which I never showed anyone. The one I had poured hours into, the exact character sheet of Kang Minjae from my dream.
She took the phone from my hand, squinting at the image, then glancing at me... then back at the phone.
Then she zoomed in.
Her eyes widened.
"What the actual ....."
She looked at the phone. Looked at me.
Then whispered, "What the fuck is happening?!*"
I shook my head. "I don't know. I don't know, Mi-Young. But he's standing right there, and I swear something's off. I felt it all morning. And now? It's here."
"What's here?"
I swallowed hard. "The tsunami after the silence."
We both turned our heads slowly toward the hallway... just in time to see President Kang Minjae standing at the end of it, talking to Mr. Kim and his eyes drifting toward me.
And then... he smiled.
Not the charming, professional smile he wore when he walked in.
But a kind of smile that said,
"Does he know something?"
..or maybe he doesn't...
I don't know if I'm dreaming or if this is reality.
From this moment on, I'm on a mission...
To save my ass from the real-world Kang Minjae.
And most importantly?
Avoid him. At. All. Costs.
He can never find out about my webtoon, The Men from Nowhere.
Or that I, Han Jiwoo, The Cloudmouth.
Because if he does?
I'm not just doomed.
I'm done.
Fried. Fanfiction-level cancelled. Emotionally deleted. Socially cremated.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse.
heard a familiar voice.
"Excuse me... Mr. Han?"
Oh no.
God, can't You just listen to me for once?
He walked toward me slowly, with the calm menace of a cat who knew the mouse had nowhere left to run.
That perfect, infuriating smirk still on his face.
"Y-Yes... Mr. Kang," I stammered.
"We need to talk. There's some business I need to finish with you."
He walked away without looking back, just asked me to follow.
And somehow, I knew this was just the beginning of my end.
— To be continued.