facts in fiction (1/3)
It could be anyone, happen when and where you least expect it. Maybe it could be that lanky suit and tie clad man that cuts your line apologetically, mumbling excuses about meetings, time he doesn’t have before he orders his coffee black and quietly pays for yours in gratitude. Or perhaps it’s that bespectacled college freshman sitting beside you, head bowed and face obscured as he fits numbers into identical 9 by 9 boxes on his mobile while he waits for his stop that just happens to be yours as well.
It could be that face on the street, hand that brushed yours in a crowd. Someone, stranger, passerby. Anyone.
And that’s what makes it so terrifyingly beautiful.
“Boo.”
Jaejoong jumps and slams his laptop shut, hand fluttering to push his glasses back up firmly to rest once again on the bridge of his nose.
“Damn you, Kim Junsu,” he growls and the other man laughs, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet office but no one bothers to look up, everyone too busy with deadlines and too used to his random, dolphin like laughter to show any inkling that they care.
“Hope you saved that last bit. Terrifyingly beautiful...I like that.”
Junsu crosses his legs at the knee as he takes a seat beside Jaejoong, careless shoving away a pile of old magazine issues onto the floor with an almighty thump as he does. “Slacking off, now, are we?”
“None of your business, Junsu.”
“But if I intend to make it mine? I am, after all...” He picks up one of the magazines from the floor and flips to the front pages, dangles it in Jaejoong’s annoyed face as he uses one free hand to highlight the words ASSISTANT EDITOR: KIM JUNSU in hot, hot pink.
“So what, it just means you have a bigger paycheck than me. Do I look like I care? Now give me back my damned highlighter or I swear, there will be blood.”
“Dare I ask who’s? And no, you don’t look like you care much but you do sound like you do.”
“Junsu.”
Junsu turns the offending marker pen over in his fingers before flipping it across the table back to its slowly fuming owner.
“Never knew they made it in burn-your-eyes-ohmytoast-make-it-stop pink.”
“Well now you do. Come to think of it, you don’t know a lot of things. Many...many things,” says Jaejoong darkly and Junsu thinks Jaejoong is hinting at how he doesn’t know what it feels like to have miscellaneous office utensils rammed down his throat.
“Would you like to find out more things?”
Jaejoong’s hand strays dangerously near to a stapler and Junsu quickly stands, smiling nervously.
“Anyways...I interrupted your little office hour me-time to-...”
“Annoy the hell out of me? Make my life a darker, more miserable place? No, wait, let me guess...bring me sugar frosted cookies?”
“LADIES.”
The two stiffen almost immediately and Jaejoong makes a show of rummaging through the papers on his table, Junsu doing the same except...
“Kim Junsu! Since when did you relocate your office out here? And you, fairy-boy, there’s this thing called filing. Helps pretty little pixies like you keep their things in order so the big bad wolf won’t take a shit on them.”
“I think you’re confusing Fairyland with Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Oh am I? Junsu, my office, now. For the love of all things good on this fair earth, explain to me in comprehensible, non-idiot terms which should not include the phrases I don’t know, I’m not the one who writes the articles, and it’s not my fault; the abomination masquerading as this month’s issue to me.” The fiery, androgynous looking editor pauses to take a breath before turning to Jaejoong.
“Fairy boy. Go see to the newbie.”
Heechul stalks off and slams the door to his office behind him, plate stating EDITOR IN-CHIEF in big, bold letters almost bloodying Junsu’s nose in the process. He flashes Jaejoong a thumbs up sign accompanied by a mouthed Don’t worry, he loves me before stepping in.
“You’re what?”
“His new...personal...assistant?”
“Oh. My. Mother. On. A. Tricycle.”
Oh it’s cruel, yes, cruel and painfully rude to laugh but Jaejoong does it anyway, holds onto the water cooler for support as the other man eyes him with can only be described as a very, very bemused and mildly surprised look.
“Is Heechul-sshi really that bad?”
“Heechul-sshi. Heechul-sshi. You don’t have a clue now, do you?” Jaejoong sobers up a little now, straightens and fixes his glasses. “Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“I can’t believe you even asked that question.”
“Which you still haven’t answered,” the newbie (Yunho? Junho? Confounding things, names, Jaejoong thinks to himself. People should just have serial numbers or something.) points out half-politely and Jaejoong sobers up a little.
“Well Junho...”
“It’s Yunho.”
“Same difference. It’ll all be revealed in good time, trust me.”
Junsu is no where to be found when they get to the main office, a vast maze of cubicles and stressed, frustrated people inside them. Oh, and potted plants, of course.
(“Why potted plants?”
“Would you rather prefer shrunken heads? Piñatas, maybe? Thank god Heechul only has a penchant for greenery and not human body parts.”
“Ah.”
“This one here...it’s called Changmin.”
“...why?”
“Ask no questions and thou shalt receive no lies.”)
Yunho takes all this in at a glance as Jaejoong rattles off names of departments, sub departments, the people in them, what they do, who to avoid and how his mother is a damn fine lay.
“Excuse me?”
Jaejoong grins as he turns to Yunho, all teeth and mischief.
“You can just tell me to shut the hell up if I’m boring, you know. I don’t bite. I just swallow whole.”
“I see.”
“No you don’t but I don’t care either way. Moving on.”
Yunho looks towards where Jaejoong gestures, a large-ish room with translucent glass that two shadows move behind, occasionally accompanied by identifiable
(“That there’s a paperweight.”
“How the hell do you know?”
“Oh look, he’s really pulling out all the stops this time. I think that was a cellophane tape dispenser. On the subject of how one distinguishes a paperweight from a cello-tape dispense, it comes to you easily enough after you’ve gone through enough of editor-sshi’s bitch fits.”
“Isn’t...isn’t this illegal?”
“In several countries, yes.”)
flying objects that the second shadow dodges and sometimes throws back at the first one. Jaejoong inches closer to the office and Yunho follows suit until they’re almost at the door, close enough for Yunho to make out the words EDITOR IN CHIEF and eavesdrop on snippets of what could possibly be the sounds of a hyena picking a fight with a baboon or a very lively, animated, perfectly sane discussion between two legal adults. Yunho puts his bet on the baboon.
“AND WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? MY GRANDMOTHER CAN WRITE BETTER THAN THIS AND SHE THINKS SHE’S A TEAPOT.” Something that suspiciously looks like a file goes sailing through the air, hits the glass with a smack.
(“File?” tries Yunho and Jaejoong smiles.
“Yes, file. You’re getting the hang of it.”
“Wonderful.” Yunho doesn’t know if it’s rational to feel slightly elated.)
“HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO PUBLISH SHIT LIKE THIS? DO YOU THINK ANYONE WILL ACTUALLY BUY THE CRAP YOU GUYS PUT IN HERE?”
“In fact yes, I do, according to last month’s sales figures.”
“THAT WAS LAST MONTH. LAST. PAST TENSE. YOU WANT TO LIVE IN THE PAST, FINE WITH ME BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?”
“No, I don’t, pray enlighten me.”
(“Phonebook?”
“Right again, you’re pretty good at this.”
“Thanks.”)
“GET OUT. OUT OUT OUT MY GOD WHY AM I SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS?”
The door swings open and Junsu stalks out, fistful of papers fluttering after him as Heechul inside screeches and slams the door shut again, muttering speculations on what he could possibly have done in his past life to deserve this. Jaejoong clasps Junsu on the shoulder and the latter gives him a weak smile that brightens into an all out Cheshire cat grin at the sight of Yunho who can only manage rapid, unevenly timed blinking at the moment.
Junsu waves a hand in front of the poor man and all Yunho does is bat his hand away half heartedly, still in an apparent state of shock. Jaejoong inspects his nails placidly while Junsu picks at the leaves of a nearby tropical plant, each rather unaffected by the fact that their newest comrade could possibly be having a brain hemorrhage.
“Is...is Heechul...is...”
“Always such a bitch?”
“I was going something more like batshit insane but bitch fits just fine as well.”
Jaejoong casts a look at Junsu who gives him a thumbs up. I like this one, he mouths behind his hand much to Yunho’s amusement who decides to let it slide this time.
“Well?”
“Heechul...” Jaejoong pauses to inspect his nails a little closer as he contemplates his answer before looking up, strange glint in his eyes. Or perhaps it’s just the way his glasses catch the office light, Yunho doesn’t really know. “Heechul’s only a bitch Mondays to Fridays.”
“And weekends?”
“He’s a bitch with a stick up his ass.”
“Speak of the devil...” suddenly comes Junsu’s low voice and the door to the said man’s office swings open, slams into the wall with a bang,
“And he shall fucking appear. Hello there, girl scouts. Someone out here must have been praying real hard since today’s just Monday...which means you pancys have...” Heechul holds up his hand to count the days out slowly, as if explaining the concept of numbers and time to a very slow dimwit. “Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and oh my gawd, Friday as well before I become a mega-bitch and make your life a living hell or as our little fairy friend here would creatively put it, a bitch with a stick up my ass.”
“I-...” starts Jaejoong but Heechul waves a manicured hand at him to can it. He does.
“Well then. Yunho. Office. Sometime around lets say...now; because ding ding ding~ You’ve just won the grand prize of working for me.”
The door slams shut again, Junsu and Jaejoong casting Yunho looks that are caught somewhere between sympathy and sadism.
“Good luck.”
“Oh Yunho~ I need some help removing yesterday’s stick from my ass!” A shadow behind the frosted glass looms over the three colleagues ominously, rapping the window and Yunho pales, Jaejoong patting him on the shoulder.
“Trust me. You’ll need it.”
Days and weeks and months and Yunho thinks that he’s single handedly using up the world’s aspirin supply.
“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job,” he mutters under his breath as he stares at the computer screen, half wondering how he’s still sitting up straight when elephants are dancing the can-can in his head. Never mind the fact that he had only gotten less than 4 hours of sleep over the past two days, never mind the fact that Heechul must be another word for insane slave driver with a stick the size of a small country up his ass oh and while you’re at it, never mind the fact that today was his birthday on top of all that.
“Yunho~” comes a sing song voice over the wall of his cubicle and Yunho jumps, almost knocking over a cup of stone cold coffee and ruining 48 hours of work.
“What.” he manages through clenched teeth and looks up to see Jaejoong hanging over the sides.
“Surprise.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m feeling now, along with a slight tinge of annoyance and-...oh.”
Jaejoong unceremoniously dumps a cupcake on Yunho’s papers, scattering crumbs everywhere while Junsu who had appeared out of nowhere carefully balances candles on the top of his computer monitor. A good three of them fall into the coffee.
“Happy surviving-three-months-of-Heechul day!” quips the assistant editor, lighting the remaining two and in the process, getting hot wax onto a $1000 computer monitor
“Thanks,” mumbles Yunho, blushing furiously as he tries to scrape off the hardened pink wax, Jaejoong leaning in closer to help him.
“And happy birthday as well.” he says softly over the sound of Junsu humming an incomprehensible composition dubbed the ‘HAPPY SURVIVING HELL DAY’ song; composed by none other than himself of course.
“YUNHO!”
Yunho gets up apologetically and Jaejoong shrinks back over the divider with a smile, a slight tilt of his head telling Yunho to go before Heechul disembowels him.
“Later.”
Looking at Jaejoong’s retreating back, he can’t help but wonder if it’s more of a question or a statement.
“Later,” he mutters to himself and a sudden hand on his shoulder startles him, makes him stiffen suddenly.
“Talking to yourself? It’s okay, only crazy people do it and I’m sure you fall well into that category since you’re actually still here after three fucking months.”
Yunho swivels round on his chair to face his boss and Heechul’s mouth is set in a thin, straight line, as if he were contemplating the mysteries of life.
“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he says not unkindly. “And get me a sandwich,” he adds as an afterthought, as if to make it seem he didn’t really care all that much. Yunho grins.
“I’m actually just three years younger than you, just so you know.”
“I asked for a sandwich, not facts of life.”
“Yes sir.”
“Oh and Yunho...I don’t know how you feel about working with fairy boy but I’m obviously not going to take it into consideration. Both your asses, office, 2pm. And remember my sandwich for the love of god.”
part 2
It could be that face on the street, hand that brushed yours in a crowd. Someone, stranger, passerby. Anyone.
And that’s what makes it so terrifyingly beautiful.
“Boo.”
Jaejoong jumps and slams his laptop shut, hand fluttering to push his glasses back up firmly to rest once again on the bridge of his nose.
“Damn you, Kim Junsu,” he growls and the other man laughs, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet office but no one bothers to look up, everyone too busy with deadlines and too used to his random, dolphin like laughter to show any inkling that they care.
“Hope you saved that last bit. Terrifyingly beautiful...I like that.”
Junsu crosses his legs at the knee as he takes a seat beside Jaejoong, careless shoving away a pile of old magazine issues onto the floor with an almighty thump as he does. “Slacking off, now, are we?”
“None of your business, Junsu.”
“But if I intend to make it mine? I am, after all...” He picks up one of the magazines from the floor and flips to the front pages, dangles it in Jaejoong’s annoyed face as he uses one free hand to highlight the words ASSISTANT EDITOR: KIM JUNSU in hot, hot pink.
“So what, it just means you have a bigger paycheck than me. Do I look like I care? Now give me back my damned highlighter or I swear, there will be blood.”
“Dare I ask who’s? And no, you don’t look like you care much but you do sound like you do.”
“Junsu.”
Junsu turns the offending marker pen over in his fingers before flipping it across the table back to its slowly fuming owner.
“Never knew they made it in burn-your-eyes-ohmytoast-make-it-stop pink.”
“Well now you do. Come to think of it, you don’t know a lot of things. Many...many things,” says Jaejoong darkly and Junsu thinks Jaejoong is hinting at how he doesn’t know what it feels like to have miscellaneous office utensils rammed down his throat.
“Would you like to find out more things?”
Jaejoong’s hand strays dangerously near to a stapler and Junsu quickly stands, smiling nervously.
“Anyways...I interrupted your little office hour me-time to-...”
“Annoy the hell out of me? Make my life a darker, more miserable place? No, wait, let me guess...bring me sugar frosted cookies?”
“LADIES.”
The two stiffen almost immediately and Jaejoong makes a show of rummaging through the papers on his table, Junsu doing the same except...
“Kim Junsu! Since when did you relocate your office out here? And you, fairy-boy, there’s this thing called filing. Helps pretty little pixies like you keep their things in order so the big bad wolf won’t take a shit on them.”
“I think you’re confusing Fairyland with Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Oh am I? Junsu, my office, now. For the love of all things good on this fair earth, explain to me in comprehensible, non-idiot terms which should not include the phrases I don’t know, I’m not the one who writes the articles, and it’s not my fault; the abomination masquerading as this month’s issue to me.” The fiery, androgynous looking editor pauses to take a breath before turning to Jaejoong.
“Fairy boy. Go see to the newbie.”
Heechul stalks off and slams the door to his office behind him, plate stating EDITOR IN-CHIEF in big, bold letters almost bloodying Junsu’s nose in the process. He flashes Jaejoong a thumbs up sign accompanied by a mouthed Don’t worry, he loves me before stepping in.
“You’re what?”
“His new...personal...assistant?”
“Oh. My. Mother. On. A. Tricycle.”
Oh it’s cruel, yes, cruel and painfully rude to laugh but Jaejoong does it anyway, holds onto the water cooler for support as the other man eyes him with can only be described as a very, very bemused and mildly surprised look.
“Is Heechul-sshi really that bad?”
“Heechul-sshi. Heechul-sshi. You don’t have a clue now, do you?” Jaejoong sobers up a little now, straightens and fixes his glasses. “Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“I can’t believe you even asked that question.”
“Which you still haven’t answered,” the newbie (Yunho? Junho? Confounding things, names, Jaejoong thinks to himself. People should just have serial numbers or something.) points out half-politely and Jaejoong sobers up a little.
“Well Junho...”
“It’s Yunho.”
“Same difference. It’ll all be revealed in good time, trust me.”
Junsu is no where to be found when they get to the main office, a vast maze of cubicles and stressed, frustrated people inside them. Oh, and potted plants, of course.
(“Why potted plants?”
“Would you rather prefer shrunken heads? Piñatas, maybe? Thank god Heechul only has a penchant for greenery and not human body parts.”
“Ah.”
“This one here...it’s called Changmin.”
“...why?”
“Ask no questions and thou shalt receive no lies.”)
Yunho takes all this in at a glance as Jaejoong rattles off names of departments, sub departments, the people in them, what they do, who to avoid and how his mother is a damn fine lay.
“Excuse me?”
Jaejoong grins as he turns to Yunho, all teeth and mischief.
“You can just tell me to shut the hell up if I’m boring, you know. I don’t bite. I just swallow whole.”
“I see.”
“No you don’t but I don’t care either way. Moving on.”
Yunho looks towards where Jaejoong gestures, a large-ish room with translucent glass that two shadows move behind, occasionally accompanied by identifiable
(“That there’s a paperweight.”
“How the hell do you know?”
“Oh look, he’s really pulling out all the stops this time. I think that was a cellophane tape dispenser. On the subject of how one distinguishes a paperweight from a cello-tape dispense, it comes to you easily enough after you’ve gone through enough of editor-sshi’s bitch fits.”
“Isn’t...isn’t this illegal?”
“In several countries, yes.”)
flying objects that the second shadow dodges and sometimes throws back at the first one. Jaejoong inches closer to the office and Yunho follows suit until they’re almost at the door, close enough for Yunho to make out the words EDITOR IN CHIEF and eavesdrop on snippets of what could possibly be the sounds of a hyena picking a fight with a baboon or a very lively, animated, perfectly sane discussion between two legal adults. Yunho puts his bet on the baboon.
“AND WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? MY GRANDMOTHER CAN WRITE BETTER THAN THIS AND SHE THINKS SHE’S A TEAPOT.” Something that suspiciously looks like a file goes sailing through the air, hits the glass with a smack.
(“File?” tries Yunho and Jaejoong smiles.
“Yes, file. You’re getting the hang of it.”
“Wonderful.” Yunho doesn’t know if it’s rational to feel slightly elated.)
“HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO PUBLISH SHIT LIKE THIS? DO YOU THINK ANYONE WILL ACTUALLY BUY THE CRAP YOU GUYS PUT IN HERE?”
“In fact yes, I do, according to last month’s sales figures.”
“THAT WAS LAST MONTH. LAST. PAST TENSE. YOU WANT TO LIVE IN THE PAST, FINE WITH ME BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?”
“No, I don’t, pray enlighten me.”
(“Phonebook?”
“Right again, you’re pretty good at this.”
“Thanks.”)
“GET OUT. OUT OUT OUT MY GOD WHY AM I SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS?”
The door swings open and Junsu stalks out, fistful of papers fluttering after him as Heechul inside screeches and slams the door shut again, muttering speculations on what he could possibly have done in his past life to deserve this. Jaejoong clasps Junsu on the shoulder and the latter gives him a weak smile that brightens into an all out Cheshire cat grin at the sight of Yunho who can only manage rapid, unevenly timed blinking at the moment.
Junsu waves a hand in front of the poor man and all Yunho does is bat his hand away half heartedly, still in an apparent state of shock. Jaejoong inspects his nails placidly while Junsu picks at the leaves of a nearby tropical plant, each rather unaffected by the fact that their newest comrade could possibly be having a brain hemorrhage.
“Is...is Heechul...is...”
“Always such a bitch?”
“I was going something more like batshit insane but bitch fits just fine as well.”
Jaejoong casts a look at Junsu who gives him a thumbs up. I like this one, he mouths behind his hand much to Yunho’s amusement who decides to let it slide this time.
“Well?”
“Heechul...” Jaejoong pauses to inspect his nails a little closer as he contemplates his answer before looking up, strange glint in his eyes. Or perhaps it’s just the way his glasses catch the office light, Yunho doesn’t really know. “Heechul’s only a bitch Mondays to Fridays.”
“And weekends?”
“He’s a bitch with a stick up his ass.”
“Speak of the devil...” suddenly comes Junsu’s low voice and the door to the said man’s office swings open, slams into the wall with a bang,
“And he shall fucking appear. Hello there, girl scouts. Someone out here must have been praying real hard since today’s just Monday...which means you pancys have...” Heechul holds up his hand to count the days out slowly, as if explaining the concept of numbers and time to a very slow dimwit. “Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and oh my gawd, Friday as well before I become a mega-bitch and make your life a living hell or as our little fairy friend here would creatively put it, a bitch with a stick up my ass.”
“I-...” starts Jaejoong but Heechul waves a manicured hand at him to can it. He does.
“Well then. Yunho. Office. Sometime around lets say...now; because ding ding ding~ You’ve just won the grand prize of working for me.”
The door slams shut again, Junsu and Jaejoong casting Yunho looks that are caught somewhere between sympathy and sadism.
“Good luck.”
“Oh Yunho~ I need some help removing yesterday’s stick from my ass!” A shadow behind the frosted glass looms over the three colleagues ominously, rapping the window and Yunho pales, Jaejoong patting him on the shoulder.
“Trust me. You’ll need it.”
Days and weeks and months and Yunho thinks that he’s single handedly using up the world’s aspirin supply.
“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job,” he mutters under his breath as he stares at the computer screen, half wondering how he’s still sitting up straight when elephants are dancing the can-can in his head. Never mind the fact that he had only gotten less than 4 hours of sleep over the past two days, never mind the fact that Heechul must be another word for insane slave driver with a stick the size of a small country up his ass oh and while you’re at it, never mind the fact that today was his birthday on top of all that.
“Yunho~” comes a sing song voice over the wall of his cubicle and Yunho jumps, almost knocking over a cup of stone cold coffee and ruining 48 hours of work.
“What.” he manages through clenched teeth and looks up to see Jaejoong hanging over the sides.
“Surprise.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m feeling now, along with a slight tinge of annoyance and-...oh.”
Jaejoong unceremoniously dumps a cupcake on Yunho’s papers, scattering crumbs everywhere while Junsu who had appeared out of nowhere carefully balances candles on the top of his computer monitor. A good three of them fall into the coffee.
“Happy surviving-three-months-of-Heechul day!” quips the assistant editor, lighting the remaining two and in the process, getting hot wax onto a $1000 computer monitor
“Thanks,” mumbles Yunho, blushing furiously as he tries to scrape off the hardened pink wax, Jaejoong leaning in closer to help him.
“And happy birthday as well.” he says softly over the sound of Junsu humming an incomprehensible composition dubbed the ‘HAPPY SURVIVING HELL DAY’ song; composed by none other than himself of course.
“YUNHO!”
Yunho gets up apologetically and Jaejoong shrinks back over the divider with a smile, a slight tilt of his head telling Yunho to go before Heechul disembowels him.
“Later.”
Looking at Jaejoong’s retreating back, he can’t help but wonder if it’s more of a question or a statement.
“Later,” he mutters to himself and a sudden hand on his shoulder startles him, makes him stiffen suddenly.
“Talking to yourself? It’s okay, only crazy people do it and I’m sure you fall well into that category since you’re actually still here after three fucking months.”
Yunho swivels round on his chair to face his boss and Heechul’s mouth is set in a thin, straight line, as if he were contemplating the mysteries of life.
“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he says not unkindly. “And get me a sandwich,” he adds as an afterthought, as if to make it seem he didn’t really care all that much. Yunho grins.
“I’m actually just three years younger than you, just so you know.”
“I asked for a sandwich, not facts of life.”
“Yes sir.”
“Oh and Yunho...I don’t know how you feel about working with fairy boy but I’m obviously not going to take it into consideration. Both your asses, office, 2pm. And remember my sandwich for the love of god.”
part 2