I walked out of Mr. Kang's office feeling overheated, the same kind of dizzy warmth I get when I step out of a sauna or a hot bath. Except this time, the "heat source" wasn't steam.
It was… a man. A man from my dreams, actually.
Which was definitely not something I was emotionally prepared to process on a Thursday.
The hallway felt colder than usual, but somehow it did nothing to cut through the warmth buzzing under my skin. I could still feel the ghost of his gaze, like it clung to me even after I left the room. My pulse was still misbehaving, tap-dancing in my chest like it had signed up for a talent show without telling me.
I hurried to the restroom, splashing cold water on my face like I was trying to cool down all the heat rushing through me.
"Jiwoo, it's fine. Just… cool down," I whispered to myself. "Today was a LOT, okay? First the weird dream, then running late to the office, then Minjae popping up like a plot twist straight out of my own webtoon, then the promotion… and then that weird tension, whatever that was."
I pointed at my reflection like I was scolding it.
"You're just tired. Yes. Tired. Overwhelmed. Dramatic day syndrome. That's all."
I nodded firmly, as if agreeing with myself would magically stop my heart from doing a full drum solo inside my chest.
The fluorescent light above me flickered, almost as if it was mocking my attempt to be composed. My face looked too flushed, my hair too messy, my eyes too wide. I looked like someone who had just made accidental eye contact with his crush for the first time which made no sense, because Kang Minjae was absolutely, definitely, objectively not my crush.
Just as I finally felt my breathing return to normal, my phone started vibrating like it was desperately trying to escape my pocket. I checked the screen… and my jaw almost fell off.
Ten missed calls.
What the? Mr. Kim was definitely going to murder me. When did he even call me this many times?
Oh right… Probably during the part where I was busy staring into Mr. Kang's eyes like a lovesick goldfish.
I snapped out of that humiliating thought so fast the imaginary bubble around my head popped. Without wasting another second, I grabbed my phone and answered before Mr. Kim could actually kill me through the speaker.
The moment I picked up, he practically exploded through the phone.
"MR. HAN, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU"
"I was with Mr. Kang!" I blurted before my eardrum could disintegrate.
Instant shift. Like someone hit his internal reset button.
From angry rottweiler… to startled housecat.
"O–Oh. With the president?" he repeated, suddenly speaking so politely I thought he might bow through the phone. "Right. Yes. Good. Um… could you come back quickly? The clients are waiting."
"Yes, Mr. Kim. I'll be in the meeting in five minutes," I said, trying to sound professional while my soul crawled away to cry.
I sighed, shoved my phone back into my pocket, and headed out.
The walk back to the meeting room felt like trudging through thick mud. Every step brought back flashes of Minjae's expression unreadable, calm, but with something simmering beneath. Something that made my breath hitch without permission. I tried to focus on the meeting ahead, but my mind insisted on playing that moment on loop.
The four-hour meeting finally ended, and the moment I checked the time, I felt my soul leave my body.
"Six? It's already six?!" I whispered dramatically to no one.
I hadn't even eaten lunch. Not even a sad piece of bread.
I grabbed my bag and waved at my team as they packed up. "Jiwoo! Dinner tonight?" one of them asked.
"Tomorrow," I said immediately. "Right now I am legally too tired to function."
They laughed, but I was not joking. I could barely tell if my legs were still attached to my body. My brain felt like a microwaved potato. I clocked out before anyone could trap me into another conversation and dragged myself toward the bus stop.
I got on the bus and sank into a seat like a melted popsicle. The sun was setting outside, warming the windows in that gentle, sleepy way.
But my brain? Wide awake and spiraling.
Why did today feel like a whole season of a drama shoved into one episode?
The dream. The chaos.
And… whatever that fluttery thing in my chest was every time I thought about that moment with Minjae.
"This is too much," I muttered. "I need a refund from life."
After ranting this, I leaned my forehead against the bus window, letting the cool glass calm me as the city lights blurred past in streaks of gold and blue.
The bus hit a bump, and I jolted up.
"Great. Even public transportation was lecturing me."
The old lady across from me stared. I pretended I was very interested in the emergency exit instructions.
When my stop arrived, I shuffled off the bus like a retired zombie and began dragging my exhausted soul toward home.
The moment I opened the door, I remembered the mess I left this morning.
Clothes everywhere. Books on the floor. My apartment looked like a tornado had tried to do interior design.
"Fantastic," I sighed. "Even my house hates me."
I started picking up things, one by one, putting them back in their places. When I lifted one of my sketchbooks to return it to the shelf, something fell out and fluttered to the floor.
fwip
A red paper crane.
Slightly crumpled. Slightly faded. Weirdly familiar.
"…Where did this come from?" I murmured.
I picked it up, turning it around between my fingers.
The paper was soft at the edges, like it had been folded a long time ago.
"Why does this look familiar?" I muttered out loud.
"Jiwoo, forget it. Let's investigate later," I told myself, already feeling my mental processor overheating. "My brain is absolutely not in the mood to work right now."
Without another thought, I slid the little red crane back between the sketchbook's pages.
"Future Jiwoo can handle that," I said, patting the book like it was someone else's responsibility now.
And with that, I left the room,
Stretching my sore muscles as I walked away, I didn't bother looking back at the tiny red crane sitting quietly behind me… waiting.
— To be continued