no other way
woobin/f(x)/jongsuk - woobin/krystal/jongsuk - pg
9608w~
somewhere in between trying to understand her and trying not to fire her he falls in love with a girl whose innocence masks her incompetence, and after three and a half years woobin isn't quite so sure he minds anymore.
author's note: wow. it has been months since i have finished a fic. actually, it has been months since i have even worked on a fic. i'm so proud of myself. since this is the one i was furthest into, i decided to go ahead and finish what shouldn't have taken that long but instead ending up taking all of today. lol. anyways, here's to you,
kirakirashahida. i don't leave works unfinished, alright? ;) love you lots, and iA all the future requests will also be completed lol. hope you enjoy, guys ♥
He hears her footsteps before he actually sees her, a quick walking and he's torn between her favorite red pumps and her go-to black heels when he finally hears her drop her Louis Vuitton purse on her secretary's desk. Her nameplate - Krystal Jung, Secretary - has most likely shifted over and she won't bother to fix it, and she's probably taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee now, grimacing and smacking her lips as she pulls her compact mirror out of her bag to reapply her lipstick, Chanel's Rouge Coco in Mademoiselle because since its first application this morning, it has all wiped off on to the lid of her coffee cup, and as soon as she snaps it shut she'll be inside his office in three, two, one-
"You won't believe what happened last night."
Her red pumps. It's a good day today, he supposes. "You're late."
Soojung waves him off. "Regardless. You won't believe what happened."
"I'm sure." Woobin glances back down at his stack of papers, what with the new sports car unveiling next week and he can't remember which branches he's been assigned to monitor. He contemplates calling up the boss man but decides against it when he remembers he can just ask Jaehyun from the fifth floor.
"The Chinese delivery guy called me up after he delivered our food, and he asked me out. Can you believe that? I mean, really. A delivery guy? Asked me out?”
Woobin snorts and taps the bottom of his ballpoint pen against the wooden table. He just remembered Jaehyun's gone on a business trip the rest of this week. "Wow."
"Like, he just picked my number back out, and thought it would be okay to call me up, because the girl he's delivering Chinese food to is cute. How shameless can someone be?"
"Pretty shameless, if I had to say so myself."
"Right?! I'm still shocked. And he wasn't even cute!" He looks up from his papers, finally, accustomed to her position on the chair in front of his desk, sitting on the arm rest and picking at her newly done nails that she had dragged him to last weekend. Soojung looks up when she realizes he hasn't responded. "What?"
"You're horrible," he says, and she grins cheekily.
"I know. Did I miss anything? I was running late because my favorite barista at the coffee shop - you know the one right in front of our apartment, the lady with the cute bob cut? - ran out of my favorite coffee beans and she had to grab them from storage." She glances over to the phone on his desk, lighting it up so it displays his voicemails. "Ooh, look. Thirteen missed calls. Wonder who that could be."
Woobin glares at her and Soojung stands up, smoothing out the wrinkles of her black skirt and tossing her hair behind one shoulder. "How have I not fired you yet."
"Because you love me too much."
She winks at him, and then turns around so she can take her place back in front of his office, behind a large desk where she spends majority of her day playing Solitaire and looking up beauty tutorials on Cosmo's online website so she can try them out later.
This is how his days almost always start out. Woobin has grown to accept it.
Kim Woobin, up high somewhere among the managers of Korea's largest automobile industry. He's in charge of the Seoul branches, namely, the ones with the colored sports car and the newer models of their generation, monitoring and planning and executive business orders that don't really mean as much as they should. Up there, somewhere, he tells himself, but not far enough.
He meets Krystal Jung with the scarce resume in the first years of his managing position. She's dressed nicely when she comes in, a pair of oversized glasses that otherwise make her look a little childish, and she sits herself down and crosses one leg over the other before he can even welcome her inside.
There isn't much to see. A high school graduate, suffered through four years of college in an accounting degree before she realized the school life wasn't for her, and is now attempting to land a job so she can 'get rich quick.' She chews gum and plays with her hands but she smiles a lot, he remembers. She smiles with her answers, bright and responsive, detailed down to each last preparation.
It isn't until he goes home later, begins unpacking at his new apartment, when the doorbell rings and he meets instead Jung Soojung, the girl next door. She pretends not to know him, introduces herself and tells him she hopes he can make himself comfortable, come over if he needs anything at all, and when he calls her Krystal by accident she stops but doesn't respond.
It is something about her, then, Soojung but not Krystal, that he thinks he might like.
She begins working the next day. Woobin meets someone else.
He can smell the soup from his favorite Japanese restaurant across the street coming from her desk, the scent wafting through the door. She's teasing him, peeking through the door every other minute or so with a bag in her hand, opening her mouth to say something before she decides against it and leaves. Woobin hates her, kind of.
It isn't until he finishes his business call (fuck jaehyun and his international managing position) that Krystal finally comes inside, carrying two bags of indeed, Japanese takeout, plopping it down right on top of his papers before seating herself at the corner of his desk. "Jesus, Krystal, it's probably all cold by now. Why didn't you come in earlier?"
"You were in a business meeting."
"Yeah, and when has that ever stopped you," he retorts, peering open the bag only to see that the steam is still wafting off the rice. Hm. "Like that one time I was talking to the boss and you came in screaming about how you found the perfect nail color to match your favorite red dress, which, I might add, you have never worn before."
Krystal snorts. "You remember that? God, so picky."
She clacks her chopsticks together and settles herself more comfortably on to his desk, and Woobin winces and ignores the fact that she has basically crumpled all of his freshly printed papers with her ass. "Anyways, so I was on the phone with Jinri yesterday-"
Woobin has never met Jinri in his life, but he is pretty sure he knows more about her than even her parents do with all the stories he's heard.
It goes on for another fifteen minutes, and it isn't until he has finished his fourth handroll that he glances up at her, rambling away as if he couldn't be any more interested. "Have you even finished anything today, Soojung?"
"Yes, I have, thank you very much. And it's Krystal, okay, not Soojung. I told you not to call me that at work."
Woobin rolls his eyes. "Whatever. And can I ask what exactly it is that you finished?"
"I delivered your mail." She giggles, then, hiding behind the takeout box and peering at him through her thickly glossed lashes. "Have you seen the delivery boy yet? I think he's new. He is so cute." Krystal giggles again, tossing her head back, and Woobin doesn't know how many times he's had to put up with this.
"Get out, Soojung. And take your shitty work ethic with you."
"Hey! I resent that."
"Out." Woobin points his chopsticks at the door and Krystal rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, mimicking Woobin's earlier motions, and then hops off of the desk. "Thank you."
"Whatever. Your job would suck without me." She smooths out her skirt once again, grabs her takeout bag, and turns back to look at him once before leaving his office. "And I told you, it's Krystal. Not Soojung."
She smiles when she says it and then she is gone, and Woobin can at least give her props for the truth. His job would suck without her.
Somewhere in between trying to understand her and trying not to fire her he falls in love with a girl whose innocence masks her incompetence, and after three and a half years Woobin isn't quite so sure he minds anymore.
He tells himself there's more to it, there's this underlying reason that exists inside of it all, but Woobin knows himself well enough to hide over the fact that there isn't a bigger picture. It wasn't a jolting realization, a night spent laying awake or a morning suffered in agony, or her sudden presence that coincides with his rapidly beating heart. It just… happened, and he's accepted it, for all one thousand two hundred and seventy-seven days, give or take the few he pretended he didn't.
Woobin keeps her around and doesn't blame it on the pang in his heart. He doesn't.
Work ends late one Thursday night and Woobin proposes dinner. The small family restaurant down the street is open until twelve and Krystal always gets pissy whenever she hasn't eaten dinner, waking him up early in the morning and demanding breakfast even though he can barely even cook rice without burning it to the pot. Woobin drags her there even though she insists there are better places to go and better things to do, and he attempts to tune her out even though it is her voice he knows best.
Krystal just pisses him off, really. Woobin doesn't even know why he puts up with her.
She grabs their usual table at the corner and Woobin takes the seat opposite from her, flipping through the menu even though he only ever orders one thing.
"Ahjumma, two beers please!" Woobin raises his eyebrow. "What?"
"Why are you ordering alcohol?"
She raises her eyebrow right back at him. "Because I want to drink, and I don't want to drink alone."
"Well, I don't want to drink."
"Yes you do."
"What the hell, Krystal-" She kicks him under the table and smiles as the older woman shuffles over to their table, thanking her in her soft "im innocent jung soojung” voice and then ordering for the both of them. When the lady leaves, she pops the cap off of her beer and drinks half of it in one go. "I hate you."
"Oh my god, Woobin, you're such a baby," she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her lipstick smears and he lifts his napkin up, wiping aggressively at the corner of her lip. "Ouch, fuck, can you just - oh my god, Woobin."
He drops his hand from her lip and doesn't look up at her, toying with the cap of his beer can. He doesn't even like alcohol. "What?"
"Turn around."
He looks up at her. "What? Why?"
"Just do it!"
Woobin rolls his eyes and puts his can down, glancing behind him to see a couple at the opposite end of the restaurant and another suit-clad business group three tables down to their left. "What am I looking at?"
"That guy." He doesn't really know why he was expecting anything different. The only time Krystal ever gets excited is when she sees a cute boy. Woobin used to have self-conscious issues about why he never fit into that category, but he's gotten over it after almost four years of pining and evident realization of Krystal's lack of taste. "Wow. He's beautiful."
Woobin snorts, his gaze following where she's pointing, until he hits the group of businessmen. "Wow, men in suits? You don't normally like professional guys."
"Shut the fuck up, Woobin. He's so beautiful, oh my god."
Her cheeks are tainted pink, but she is still staring at their group, a lovestruck expression in her eyes that he's familiarized himself with. "Lucky for you," Woobin says, nudging her lightly under the table, and it takes a couple of hits before Krystal finally gives him any attention.
"Why?"
Their food arrives, then, and Woobin just shakes his head, thanks the lady for the meal and sets Krystal's in front of her before grabbing his own. He's only had maybe two bites when there's a sharp pang in his leg, Krystal whisper-screaming in front of him as she kicks him harshly. “Ow, what the fuck, Krystal."
"He's coming over here!" She looks at him, eyes widened in panic, and Woobin smirks.
He stirs his soup and watches as Krystal's grip on her spoon tightens, hands paling and it's kind of cute. "Woobin hyung!"
Woobin glances around, only to see the cute guy Krystal had been pointing out earlier standing right behind him. All the blood from his secretary's face has completely drained and it takes all of his efforts not to laugh, standing up instead to greet his guest. "Jongsuk, right? Jaehyun's right-hand man?"
Jongsuk beams, somewhat pleased that a higher-up remembers his name. "Yeah, yeah, that's me. Jaehyun's away now, on a business trip-"
"He went with Soohyuk, yeah? Complete inconvenience for my branch, by the way. I have no idea what the hell is going on anymore."
Jongsuk laughs. "I don't think I ever do. But yeah, that's me, I'm surprised you remembered considering we've only met once."
"Jaehyun's always praising you," Woobin replies, smiling. There's a cough behind him and he almost forgot she even existed. "Oh, by the way, this is my secretary, Krystal Jung." She stands up and looks considerably less paler, but it doesn't make Woobin's urge to laugh any less. "Krystal, Jongsuk. He works with Jaehyun, the guy who used to-"
"Manage the Incheon branch, yeah, I know."
Woobin raises an eyebrow. "Wow, I'm surprised you remember that."
She glares at him. "I happen to remember a lot of things, as your secretary, thanks." Krystal turns to Jongsuk and smiles, smoothing her skirt down. "Nice to meet you, Jongsuk," and she bats her eyelashes in the way that makes Woobin's stomach flip and want to vomit right out of his mouth. He doesn't even know why he likes her, really.
"You too, Krystal." He smiles. "I like your name."
Krystal flushes a deep red, mumbling a soft thank you under her breath, and Woobin sighs, doesn't roll his eyes and invites Jongsuk over to his office for lunch sometime. Krystal looks as if she's been brought up to cloud nine and he wonders if that's a good thing.
"Man, he is so cute. So cute. I just." Soojung squeals, grabbing on to Woobin's arm, and she's tripping over everything even though he stopped her after that first bottle of beer.
Woobin grimaces and pulls her in closer, tossing his arm around her shoulder and shifting their positions so he is standing near the roadside. "Shut up, Soojung."
"He said he liked my name, oh my god. Maybe I should officially change my name to Krystal."
He actually does roll his eyes this time, and he has to resist shoving her off of him at it. She'd probably fall into the bushes and get bitten by some poisonous animal and while on a normal basis Woobin wouldn't really care, he hasn't yet gotten around to looking at replacement secretaries, so.
"Woobin, listen to me!"
He forgot she was talking. "What?"
"That guy, Jongsuk, you think he likes me? He did come over to our table, and most people don't approach someone superior if it isn't their boss, especially if it's someone like you-"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean-"
"-so that probably just means he came over to see the cute girl you were sitting with. And to confirm that we weren't dating." She grins, crinkles at the corner of her eyes.
Woobin's stomach churns and his grip around her shoulder loosens, but it's not like her to notice the little things. "You are the most conceited, obnoxious female I have ever met. I cannot believe you actually said that."
Soojung snorts. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard it a million times. Anyways, how do you suppose I get his number? You think maybe Jaehyun - oh my god." She stops in the middle of the street, turning to look up at him.
"What?"
“You. You know Jaehyun."
"Yeah, so?"
"And Jongsuk is Jaehyun's 'right hand man', right?"
He can't believe where this is going. "No, no way in hell am I setting you two up-"
"Why not?!" Soojung whines, tugging at his arm and pouting her lips. Woobin snorts and pulls his arm out of her grasp, and he crosses them over his chest all the while giving her a dirty look. Her stupid puppy dog face doesn't do her any justice when it comes to him, anyways.
"Jaehyun's my business partner, okay? That kind of stuff isn't appropriate. Plus, I don't even know his and Jongsuk's relationship that well."
"Weren't you the one that said Jaehyun was always talking about Jongsuk?"
Woobin scowls. "He's only mentioned him twice, I just didn't want the little runt to feel bad. Besides, if you think it's that simple, why don't you go ask Jaehyun? I'm sure he would be more than ecstatic to help you out." The sarcasm is barely hidden and he smirks when Soojung closes her eyes, shuddering. There was a period of work neither Jaehyun or Soojung like talking about, when they dated for a brief three weeks and Woobin along with the Daegu department head, Minho, watched the relationship unfold and then crumble with popcorn in their hands.
"Fuck you, Kim Woobin."
"Hey, hey, I'm still the one that pays you, okay?"
"Once Soojung comes out you are no longer my boss." She tosses her hair behind her shoulder and stalks forward, and Woobin waits patiently behind her until she finally turns around again. Her eyes are wide and round and her hands are clasped together and he thinks if he waits maybe a minute longer, she might even get on to her knees. "Please, Woobin. Please. Just this one time."
He sighs, walking forward until he's next to her again, tossing his arm around her shoulders once more. "Shut up, Soojung."
"Woobin, please!”
They walk the short way back with Soojung practically begging, and it isn't until they reach their apartments, when he sticks the key inside of the lock, that he finally acknowledges her pitiful whines. "I'll think about it."
"Yes!" She screams, jumping on his back, and he snorts, a finger to his lips.
"Shut the fuck up, Soojung, it's like one in the morning. People are sleeping at this time of night, believe it or not."
"Don't get sassy with me." Woobin throws her a look and she shrugs sheepishly, skipping over to her apartment. "Kidding, kidding." She sticks her house key into the lock of her own apartment and smiles at him before disappearing inside. "Thanks, Woobin. I owe you one."
Woobin sighs, lets his shoulders fall and steps inside his small apartment. He doesn't know how many times she's said that before, but after this long Woobin thinks it's probably best he quit counting.
The lights are already on when Woobin steps inside his office the next day. Krystal's nameplate is out of place, even though he distinctly remembers fixing it the night before, and there's a fresh smell of coffee wafting from somewhere that isn't his hand. Woobin raises his eyebrow, tightens his grip on his briefcase handle, and strolls into his work area, only to see Krystal tidying up his desk and scrolling through his voicemail inbox.
Krystal smiles at him when she sees him, handing him a notepad he remembers gifting her when she had first started but never seen since then. Woobin's surprised to see she still has it, but says nothing. He flips through the small pad and notices she's filled up the page with his schedule for today in her messy, somewhat illegible handwriting.
"Thanks."
"No problem." Krystal winks, pats him on his suit pocket, and then struts out of his office. She's wearing new shoes, a pale nude color, and that's the last he sees of her before the door slams shut.
Woobin doesn't hear her usual obnoxious pop music playing from her desk, nor does he hear her smacking her gum as she chatters away on the phone with Jinri. He's almost worried, really, but then his phone rings and he sees Jaehyun's name flashing up on the caller ID.
The phone call lasts a lot longer than expected and by the end of it Woobin is so glad he doesn't work in international affairs, despite his earlier jealousy. He's still laughing to himself over Jaehyun's predicament (i was telling my translator that the german girl we were working with was really hot and he fucking told her. on accident, but still) when there's a knock on the door and Krystal pokes her head in.
Krystal never knocks. Now Woobin is really freaking out.
"Yes?"
"I'm going to grab some takeout, anything you want in particular?"
He raises his eyebrow, because she also never asks his opinion on their lunches. Whatever Krystal's craving, they're eating, and while Woobin thinks he probably should take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime chance, he can't seem to bring himself to ask. "Just get whatever you want. Company card's in the cabinet."
"No, it's okay, I'll treat today."
….? "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, no problem." Krystal smiles at him widely, almost fake, and Woobin coughs but doesn't say anything. "Okay, I'll be back in a little bit. Tell me if you're inviting anyone over so I can get extra."
"Why would I - oh." Oh. This is why. "Wow, Krystal. Wow."
"What?" She steps inside his office fully, closing the door and leaning her back against it with her hands crossed behind her. She's no longer smiling, but Woobin can see her eyebrow twitching in anticipation. "I'm just saying."
"And who, exactly, would I invite to lunch?"
She shrugs, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't know. I heard you on the phone with Jaehyun-"
"-who isn't in town-"
“-which, if you'd let me finish, just reminded me of the little introduction I had yesterday with Jaehyun's associate, whatever his name is."
Woobin smirks. "Yeah, because I'm sure my phone call with Jaehyun is what reminded you of 'whatever-his-name-is,' and all the other niceties you've done today are just mere coincidences."
Krystal raises her eyebrow at him and folds her arms across her chest. Woobin notices the company card clutched tightly in her hand and returns the gesture. "What niceties?"
"Never mind." He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and tried not to strangle her. Honestly,why does he like her. "I'll set you two up, alright, just go back to normal. This polite Krystal facade you've got going on is throwing me off."
She smiles and he notices the color rushing to her face, as if she's been worrying about this all day and Woobin's one confirmation has completely determined her fate. Which, maybe it has, but he doesn't want to think about that now. He just raises his hand to shoo her out of his office and doesn't grimace minutes later at the greasy food Krystal's returned with from the street vendor two blocks down. He's pretty sure that that's the least of his problems.
It happens literally overnight, them.
Woobin calls Jaehyun two nights later, asks him for Jongsuk's cell. "Me and Krystal - my secretary, if you don't remember - are going out for dinner, and since Jaehyun isn't here I was wondering if you wanted to tag along.”
Woobin skips, eventually, but he has to think twice about it, and when Krystal comes knocking on his office door the next morning (late) and then bursting in before he can respond, he sees Soojung in his office, not the outspoken girl he first interviewed years back.
It becomes Jongsuk this and Jongsuk that and Woobin doesn't think he's ever seen her this happy.
She's passed cloud nine, and Woobin is left alone trying to hang on Earth.
Three months later and Woobin is sitting at his desk, scrolling through the file Minho had sent him while on the phone with Jonghyun, head of Busan sales and sass master of the entire department. He's supposed to be checking up on the final sales for the GT4 before the year end clean out but it's been so long since he caught up with Jonghyun that he supposes it isn't at the top of his priorities. "Is Jaehyun back from wherever the hell he went?"
"Tokyo, and yeah, he came back like three days ago. He keeps running into my office shouting 'Woobin-desu!' and then leaving."
Jonghyun snorts, his laugh coming out staticky on the other end. "Pretty sure he's using that wrong, but okay. At least he doesn't call you senpai?" Woobin chokes on his spit, and Jonghyun laughs even harder.
"He's so stupid, oh my god. How does he manage anything."
"Who knows. Anyways, did you-" There's a shuffling from outside and Woobin guesses it must be Krystal outside. She's later than usual. "Woobin?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry, what were you saying?"
"Did you catch the changes for the Spirra? They're sending them over to the Busan headquarters in a couple of weeks and I don't have all the details on the shipment."
There's a knock on the door and Woobin glances up, hands positioned over the keyboard. "Yeah, yeah, sure thing. Hey, Jonghyun, is it okay if I call you back? I have a visitor."
"Yeah, no problem. Just call whenever you're free. And tell Jaehyun he's an asshole-desu."
Woobin laughs, shaking his head. "Sure thing. Bye." The phone clicks off and he looks up at the door, sees Krystal's black shoes tapping lightly against the floor from underneath the door. "Come in."
The door opens, and Krystal walks in with her head down and a cup of coffee in each hand. Woobin watches her shuffle over, her hair in one long braid off to the side, and when she arrives at his table he notices her face is clear of any make up. Her eyes are red and she looks like a little kid, but he doesn't say anything, just watches as she sets a cup of coffee down on his desk. "They got my order wrong at the coffee shop, but I didn't want it to go to waste."
"Okay. Thanks." He looks down at her feet, sees the black flats adorned with little bows. "I like your shoes."
She smiles a little bit. "Thanks. And sorry I'm late."
Krystal turns on her heels but before she gets to the door Woobin calls her name, stopping her. "Hey, don't worry about getting lunch today. I don't have that much to do, we can go out together." And it's a lie, because his schedule is packed and all his deadlines are at the end of this week, but she looks so sad and heartbroken that he can't help himself.
She smiles again, and it's a little wider but not by much. "Yeah, okay. Just tell me when you're ready."
He nods and she leaves, then, shoulders hunched over like a frown. His lips curl downward similarly.
"We broke up."
She says this over beef pho and carbonated water, because he doesn't allow alcohol during work hours and Krystal Jung doesn't drink soft drinks. Woobin swallows around his chopsticks and says nothing, but his foot shifts over to find hers and he taps the black bow on the top of her shoes.
"I saw him flirting with some girl. His hands were all over her and they were talking and laughing and I just… It was on impulse, I just ended it right there."
"What'd you do?"
Krystal laughs, hair hovering dangerously above her noodle soup, and Woobin reaches over to push her braid back behind her shoulder. She shivers and closes her eyes, setting her chopsticks to the side. "I yelled that we were over and then just stalked away. Maybe I shouldn't have been so rash, but you should've - you should've seen him, Woobin. He was all over her.”
Woobin picks at his noodles, chews on a piece of chicken and swallows it down along with his remaining pride. "Maybe you should talk to him, Krystal."
"But Woobin-"
"Just wait till he calls. If he gives excuses, then leave it, but at least… Hear him out. You need to finish it cleanly without having to think about it in the future."
She sighs. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll wait."
He smiles, nudging her foot again. Krystal picks up her chopsticks and shoves a handful of noodles into her mouth, cheeks bulging, and Woobin watches as she eats away with tears running down her face, and his heart is torn but probably not as much as hers.
Woobin wonders if Jongsuk knows the Soojung behind Krystal.
He's awoken by a phone call at one in the morning the next night, Gee blasting at the highest volume and his cellphone vibrating angrily on the bedside table. Soojung had set it as his ringtone the time they first exchanged numbers all those years back, and he'd never got around to changing it, but Woobin's long passed the stage of cursing a girl group for disturbing him from his sleep when Soojung is the only one to blame.
"Hello? Soojung?"
She giggles over the phone, and she's also never gotten over how stupid his voice sounds when he's tired and groggy.
There's a lot of things they have yet to get over, Woobin realizes too late.
"Woobin? Were you sleeping?"
"Not that you care, but continue."
Soojung's laughs seem to get louder and Woobin finds himself smiling along to her giggles, and he pulls at the corner of his lips to turn them back into a frown. They have work tomorrow, dammit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I really am. I just... I had to call someone, share the good news."
Woobin sits up straighter at that, and if he weren't so used to it he might have put a hand over his rapidly beating heart. "And what good news might that be?"
"Jongsuk apologized." His next move is to slouch back against the headboard, but he doesn't stop smiling. Her voice is so happy. "I called him, and he-"
"Wait, you called him?"
"Yeah, I mean, I was gonna wait for him to call first but then I just... I mean, I was kind of in the wrong, for acting so rashly, but besides that. He apologized!" Soojung giggles, squealing a little bit, as if it were such a shock that someone like Jongsuk could apologize, but Woobin doesn't comment this time. "He was really sorry, kept telling me how wrong he was and all that shit. I wasn't really listening, I was just so happy to talk to him, but - yeah. He apologized, isn't that great?"
It takes Woobin a second to realize Soojung actually wants a response, but he pulls himself together, rubbing at his neck and trying not to sound as patronizing as he feels when he speaks. "Yeah, that's - that's great, Soojung, I'm happy for you. Just, just don't let him screw up again, okay?"
Soojung laughs for the nth time, and Woobin honestly doesn't know what is so funny but he can't bring himself to question her. This all just feels so wrong. "Of course. Yeah. And thanks Woobin, you - I mean, you have no idea how much you helped. Honestly. Thank you."
"No problem, Soojung. That's what friends are for."
"I'll bring you something tomorrow."
"No, Soojung-"
There's a knocking on the wall next to him, loud and rough, and then Soojung's voice on the other end of the phone. "Shut up, or else I'm gonna break through this wall. Just let me say thanks for once."
"Okay." He smiles. His heart hurts. "Okay."
"Okay." She giggles one more time, and then sighs, her breath heavy, and Woobin sighs right back. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"You too. Good night, Soojung. I'm happy for you."
"Yeah. Yeah, me too." She hangs up, and then the knocking on his wall starts again, followed by an obnoxious "THANK YOU, WOOBIN!" and a furious shushing from the neighbors in the apartment on his other side.
Woobin winces, drops back on his pillow, and falls asleep helplessly in love.
He doesn’t even get a chance to duck before a small package comes flying at his head, bouncing off of his forehead and hitting the computer in front of him, almost knocking it over. Krystal’s hands come up to cover her mouth, but Woobin can see the ends of a smile peeking out from behind her hands, and he just sighs and shakes his head. There’s a cheap packaged brownie now smushed on his desk, and it really doesn’t look all that appetizing but he supposes it’s the thought that counts.
“Thanks? I guess.”
Krystal giggles behind her hands, blows him a kiss, and slams the door shut on her way out. It isn’t until a good five minutes later that she yells, “Oh, and good morning!” and Woobin thinks his heart might be dancing in his chest but he just nods and doesn’t bother returning the vocal gesture.
Loud music plays through his office door the whole morning, usually followed with clicks on the floor and bad karaoke. Woobin guesses Krystal’s probably dancing around behind her desk.
He remembers the second, maybe third time she’d come over to his apartment, stealing his laptop and illegally downloading a bunch of shitty pop music, and her voice isn’t that bad when she tries but her dancing is something else. He ponders joining her, but unlike Krystal Woobin actually does his job, and he’s already a whole three days past the Zodiac shipment check up already.
It’s around lunchtime that Jonghyun calls him, can you check how many cars are in your newest shipment? i think they might have mixed up our requests and Woobin pulls on his suit jacket, exiting his office.
Krystal’s in the midst of animatedly reenacting a story to who else but Jongsuk, said boyfriend leaning over her secretary’s desk with an amused expression all over his face.
Woobin coughs, and they both look over, Jongsuk immediately straightening up. “Hyung,” he says, bowing just slightly. He pulls at the lapels of his suit jacket, and Woobin already doesn’t like the look of him, but then Krystal giggles quietly and Woobin has to refrain from rolling his eyes.
“Jongsuk, how are you?”
“I’m good! Recently have been doing better,” and at that he glances over at Krystal, winking, to which she turns a bright shade of red. Woobin’s grip on his briefcase tightens a little and he smiles. “How about yourself?”
“Pretty well. Quite busy, actually.” He checks his watch in an attempt to look professional and realizes it’s been a long time since he’s read anything other than a digital clock, and ends up pulling back his arm without actually getting the time. “You two heading out for lunch?”
Krystal nods, standing up. “Mhm, in a couple minutes. You want to join?”
“Nope, have to go check up on our most recent shipment. I’ll be back in a couple hours,” Woobin points his finger at Krystal, “and you better be back by then, okay? We’ve got late work tonight.”
She rolls her eyes and bows down all the way, her nose almost brushing her desk. “Yes, master.”
“Don’t sass me, Jung Soo - Krystal.” Krystal raises her eyebrow but says nothing, and Woobin turns back to Jongsuk, who has a smile toying at the end of lips. Woobin really doesn’t like him. “Make yourself home, but no indecent behavior in my office, got it?”
“Yes, hyung, of course.”
“Good. I’ll see you two later, then,” and with a nod of his head Woobin is out of the office quarters, finding an empty elevator to ride down to the parking garage.
Once inside, Woobin lets his briefcase drop to the floor. He leans his head back against the wall of the elevator, closes his eyes, and wills his heart to slow down, wills himself to not hate Jongsuk. Wills himself to let himself be alright.
It becomes a regular routine, Jongsuk coming over two or three times a week for lunch. Each time, Woobin rejects their offer to join, and wrinkles his nose at Jongsuk’s polite greetings, his obnoxiously loud laughter.
“Will you please come to lunch with us today? I feel bad leaving you here alone.”
Krystal’s head pokes into his office, hair dangling down past her shoulders. Woobin sighs. “I like being in the office alone. It’d be weird to intrude on your lunch dates with him.”
She rolls her eyes, stepping inside his office, and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You get back to the apartment so late from work, so I never get to see you at home either. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not - I’m not avoiding you, Soojung.”
Her lips curl into a frown but she says nothing about the name slip-up. “Woobin, please. Just one lunch.”
“Why do you want me to come so bad, anyways?”
“I just want you to meet him!”
His eyes trained on the screen in front of him, Woobin scrolls through his emails, jotting down reminders on his notepad. “I already know him, he works under Jaehyun, remember?”
“Come on, you’re my boss, he’s my boyfriend. He just wants to be your friend.”
Well, I don’t want to be his, Woobin thinks childishly, but instead all that comes out is a tired sigh. He likes her too much for his own good, Woobin decides, tapping his pen against the glass table. Jaehyun’s going out of town this weekend again. “One lunch. That’s it.”
“That’s all I ask for.”
It happens sooner than expected and suddenly Woobin finds himself sitting in front of a giggling Krystal and an avid Jongsuk, recounting one of his first internships with the company. Woobin isn’t amused and he really just wants to eat his food and leave, but Krystal seems so happy that both are in attendance that he can’t bring himself to just walk out.
“-pretty cute, don’t you think? Woobin?”
“What?” He glances over at the pair, who are too close for his liking, but he pretends like it doesn’t phase him. “What’d you say?”
Krystal rolls her eyes affectionately, leaning across the table towards him. “The girl, working at the counter. Isn’t she pretty cute? She looks like your type.”
All three of them glance over to the front register, where a university-aged student is working. She’s got her hair hidden underneath a backwards baseball cap, long and straight down to her back, and she’s chewing gum loudly as she makes marks on a menu. Woobin is hit with a striking sense of familiarity and before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “She looks like you.”
“What?”
Woobin swallows, and glances back over to Jongsuk and Krystal. Krystal’s smiling, like she’s amused and like she knows, but she doesn’t, he knows she doesn’t. “She looks like you? Obnoxious and annoying, which is the exact opposite of my type.”
Krystal whines, hitting him in the arm, and the suddenly sour look on Jongsuk’s face softens somewhat, but not by much. Woobin figures it was a better save than none.
The lunch goes by in a blur, and Woobin doesn’t remember any more of the conversation, but he glances back to the front counter as they are leaving. He makes eye contact with Krystal’s look-a-like, but it doesn’t mean anything that she noticed, Woobin tells himself. Nothing at all.
The second time it ends happens only weeks later, Krystal twirling into the office in a yellow skirt and an unruly white blouse half tucked in, half left out in the back. Her lips are not red and neither are her eyes but her eyeliner is drawn a little thicker than normally, and Woobin berates himself for noticing the details, for noticing the little tidbits that shouldn’t give away so much.
Woobin would have probably not even thought it had made a difference, that this time was the last time, but then Krystal comes into his office holding takeout from the Thai restaurant three streets down wordlessly and it’s then that his heart kind of breaks.
“Krystal, I hate Thai food-”
“Shut up, asshole, I know,” Krystal responds, pulling a burger out of one of the white paper bags. “God. So annoying.” She flattens the paper bag and smooths it out before shoving his keyboard out of the way, replacing it with her makeshift placemat. The burger comes on top of it, coupled with a soft drink on the side, and she wipes at her eyes before plopping back down in her chair on the opposite end of the table.
Woobin snorts, ignores the fact that even these small little things make his heart speed up just a little bit. “You’re so rude, Krystal. What kind of secretary even are you?”
“A shitty one, I thought we established this the first week I started working.” She pulls a plastic box of flat noodles out of the other white bag, settling it on to the table. “Now, let us eat in silence and enjoy the few moments where you aren’t yelling at me.”
“I never yell at you, what the hell-”
Krystal glares at him, eyes narrowing. “Please, boss. Please.”
He sighs, nods his head, and leans back in his chair with his burger. His inbox constantly refreshing, Woobin works in silence, scrolling through their inventory as he tries to respond appropriately to Jaehyun’s unnecessarily suggestive email, when he hears quiet crying behind his computer.
“Krystal?”
He leans over the monitor and sees his secretary wiping at her eyes again, a napkin bunched up in her hand and two crumpled ones right next to her dish. “It’s - the food,” she whimpers, sniffling again, “it’s really spicy.” Woobin takes a glance at the plate, all of which looks untouched, and sighs. “It’s really fucking spicy, okay?”
“Krystal-”
“Do you ever stop talking? I swear, I thought we just agreed to eat quietly.”
“Well, your crying isn’t all that quiet, if we’re on complaints right now.”
Krystal snorts, loud and unabashed, and wipes at her eyes again, and Woobin guesses she took precautions because the eyeliner barely even smudges. “You are such an asshole, you know?”
“And you are the shittiest secretary I have ever had the opportunity of working, but hey, you don’t see me stressing over it.” She laughs, then, standing up and walking over to his side of the desk to sock him in the side and then throw her arms around his neck in an awkward hug. “I hate you so much. I hope you know this.”
Woobin laughs, the sound slightly muffled by her blouse, and makes an attempt at returning the gesture. “Believe me, I know.”
Krystal pulls back and Woobin wipes away the one stray mark of black near her eye. “Thanks for the burger.”
“No problem. I’m not that hungry, so you can eat my noodles too. Or feed it to your dogs when you get home.”
“I don’t own any dogs.”
“Then go buy some.” She ruffles his hair and then packs up her lunch, placing it back into the takeout bag and leaving it at the corner of his desk.
“Soojung.” She turns around, scowling, but it drops when she sees his expression. “Stop breaking your heart. Just end it.”
“That’d be like giving up on him.” The door clicks quietly behind her and Woobin doesn’t hear her crying after that.
The next day, Woobin knocks shakily on the door next door with a small white box in his hand. Soojung opens the door in a spring dress and her hair in a messy bun and the smile she’s wearing is prettier than anything else he’s seen in a long, long time.
“Woobin! It’s been so long since you’ve come over.” She grabs his arm and almost yanks him inside, settling him down on the couch. “Do you want water? Coffee? Beer?”
He snorts, because only she would offer alcohol to her guests at nine in the morning. “No, I’m okay. I went out running this morning and stopped by the bakery. I thought you could use some sweets.” He hands her the small box and she laughs, all girly and shy like she is when she’s less bratty Soojung at home.
“Thanks, dummy. We’ve made up already though, me and Jongsuk.”
Woobin blinks, but it’s okay. It is. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah,” and that’s all the elaboration he gets. He supposes he wouldn’t have asked for more anyways. “We’re going out to the park in a little while, though. Do you wanna come?”
“I’ll pass.” He stands up, brushing off his sweatpants, and if he had looked over he might have seen the sad expression on Soojung’s face, the shaky smile and the regret she noticed etched into the lines of his face. “You guys have fun, though. I’m glad it’s all worked out.”
Woobin walks himself to the door and smiles at her, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Woobin.”
“No problem. What else am I here for, right?” Woobin winks, but even he thinks a more accurate statement has never been said.
Woobin grows accustomed to the cycle soon enough. Jongsuk does something to piss off Krystal, who breaks off the relationship in a futile effort that ends up with her in his arms, defending the boy who only knows how to leave scars.
He becomes accustomed to being the steady third wheel, the wobbling support stand Krystal has taken hold of.
Each time her heart is broken, and as Woobin is left to watch her clean the pieces, he thinks she must always be leaving at least one behind, and all he can do is pick it up off the ground, clean the dirty red and hold on to it until she comes looking for something she still doesn’t even know is missing.
There’s a soft knock on his office a Friday night too late, and Woobin waits for the only suspected intruder to let herself in. She comes in looking the same as she did in the morning, her pantsuit slightly ruffled but otherwise impeccable, but if Woobin had looked up he might have seen the red rimming her eyes. “What’s up?”
“You busy tonight?”
Woobin pauses from responding to Jonghyun’s IM text - completely work related, if that means discussing Jonghyun’s four-month long crush on the quiet customer service representative - and looks up to think. “I’m probably not going to be getting off until nine, but no, not after that. Why?”
Krystal shrugs. “I don’t know. I want to go out for a drink.”
“Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”
She sighs, smiling softly, and then nods her head at him. “Okay, I’ll just be waiting in the office for you. Let me know if you need anything.”
Woobin smiles, waving at her. “Will do, Secretary Jung.”
“Awesome.” Krystal laughs, doing her imitation ninety degree bow, and then winks at him. "Good night, Mr. Kim.” The door shuts softly behind her, and Woobin returns to his instant messenger in hopes that Jonghyun hasn’t done anything stupid just yet.
It isn’t until later, when they are walking down to the street stand together, Krystal laughing about some girl that had called earlier on in the day that Woobin remembers Jongsuk, remembers their first break up over carbonated water and beef pho. He wonders, hopes, prays that this is their last.
“We broke up.”
She’s already on her fifth shot by the time this confession finally falls from her lips, waving her shot glass around in the air that Woobin is having trouble pouring her another round of alcohol without spilling the liquid all over himself.
Woobin doesn’t say anything, just lifts the tiny glass back to Soojung's lips, and watches as she downs the alcohol in one go. There is sweat dripping down her face and her neck, her hair matted to her skin, and her lipstick, probably Devil from Dolce & Gabbana because Soojung has told him numerous times of her “breakup makeup” routine, is somewhat smudged at the corner of her lips. If she knew, she would probably start crying (she’s an emotional drinker, he’s come to realize) instead of trying to fix it, but Woobin kind of likes it messed up. Humane, he thinks. Not part of the Krystal persona she’s been trying to perfect over the years.
“I don’t even…” she slams her glass on the table, and Woobin can’t bring himself to look at her. “I just, I like him so much? I like him so much, Woobin.”
He sighs. “Yeah. I know.”
“I like him so much, and I hate - I hate that he’s like this.”
The shot glass has rolled somewhere on to the floor and she’s got the bottle in her hand now, taking a swig from it, and she’s still relatively sober.
He thinks about stopping her, then, while it’s still safe, but Woobin can feel his heart shrinking in his chest, pinching at these confessions, and he just finds himself grabbing a new bottle instead. Confessions for all, he supposes. Neighbor to neighbor, friend to friend.
“I love him, Woobin.” She sets the bottle down and folds her arms on the table, resting her head on top of them. “I love him, and I don’t even know why.”
He thinks by now he should be able to relate.
“It’d be so much easier,” Soojung begins, and when she looks up at him, and their eyes meet, his heart sinks down to to the bottom of his chest, and he can feel his ribs constricting, how the air just rushes out of his lungs because he knows what she’s gonna say, he knows, and maybe he’s prepared his whole life for this but: “It’d be so much easier if I just liked… you.”
“And it’d be so much easier if I didn’t.”
On the walk back home, their hands loosely joined, Woobin realizes something.
Her hands are cold, tiny and frail in his own, and she isn’t stumbling down the street like she normally would. Her hair hangs past her face and her skin is pale and washed out, but Woobin likes that she almost looks like she’s sleeping. Like a warm Friday night when she rolls over in bed, and he’s there to wake her up out of her nightmares.
He realizes, then, that they would have never made it.
Her fingers curl in his, slightly, and he squeezes her hand once before letting it drop. She straightens up, and Woobin can feel Soojung’s gaze on him but he never looks over.
And he knows - she probably realizes it too.
He spends the weekend in Busan with Jonghyun, and finally meets the infamous customer service representative. Quiet Seo Joohyun, and Woobin has no idea how the two manage to work seeing as Joohyun is a doe-eyed innocent and Jonghyun has no idea what he’s doing with himself, but it works, and he supposes if one pair were intact at least it’s them.
That Monday, he comes into work and the lights are already on. Krystal’s at her desk, messing with her nameplate, but when she sees him she straightens up and offers a soft smile.
“Hey,” she whispers, and he holds in the sigh threatening to slip.
“You’re here early.”
Krystal’s hair is tied up in a neat ponytail, bangs clipped back, and it looks strange. Still pretty, because after all this is Krystal Jung he’s talking about, but. Strange.
“Yeah.” The phone rings, and she turns to look at it, but Woobin is still staring at her. Usually, she directs the phone calls directly to his office without answering it herself (i can’t answer the phone without preparation, it’s nerve-wracking, woobin. you wouldn’t know anything about social anxiety anyways) but there comes a sigh, and then, “You’ve reached the Seoul branch department head of Park Motors, this is Krystal Jung speaking. How may I help you?”
She glances at Woobin and he averts his eyes, his heart constricting in a way he’s never experienced before. He enters into his office and as soon as he’s thrown his suit jacket over his chair, the phone rings, and he looks up to the door, sees the shadow of Krystal moving in the clear panel. “Kim Woobin, head of Park Motors Seoul, how may I help you?”
It ends up being Jaehyun, who has just flown in from Taiwan with an expansion proposition for his department. “By the way,” he adds, voice light, "I’ve never heard your secretary’s voice before.”
Woobin laughs, and he half expects it to come out all choked. “Yeah. Neither have I."
Krystal speaks to him once the entire work day, a quiet, “What do you want for lunch?” and receives an even quieter, “Nothing, I’m not really that hungry.” She nods her head and closes the door and Woobin knows it isn’t a surprise he misses her stupid interruptions, loud stories and unnecessary barging into his work space all the fucking time.
It’s been one day. That makes him want to laugh, or cry, or both, in that order.
When the outside lights dim, the door opens again, and Woobin expects a, good night, I’ll see you tomorrow, or maybe even here’s my resignation letter, but instead he gets, hey, can we talk? just for one second.
“Sure.” Woobin looks up from his computer and her eyes are red, and he wonders if that’s his fault, if he’s made her cry in the midst of all of her other tears.
“I’m sorry.”
He smiles, but even he can tell it isn’t real. “Why are you saying sorry?”
“Because I’m a shitty person, and a shitty secretary, and a shitty neighbor, and a shitty friend. A really, really shitty friend. I can’t believe-” she stops, then, and sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
“Why is that something you have to apologize for?” Woobin shakes his head, standing up, and walks over to her, touching her lightly on the shoulder. Her eyes look a little wet and he laughs lightly before brushing under her lashes, the moisture staining his fingers. “Don’t cry, you’re gonna make me feel bad.”
“You’re already making me feel bad, you dick!” she yells. Krystal’s voice cracks at the end and Woobin pulls her into his chest, rubs her back as she tightens her grips on the sides of his shirt, her crying loud and obnoxious and definitely not like the pretty Krystal he’s used to. This is more like Soojung, with just the slight obnoxious tendencies of his secretary. “I hate you, but I think I hate myself more right now,” she whispers into his chest, and he sighs.
“Don’t hate yourself. Just me, you idiot. Just me.”
Krystal laughs and pulls back, wiping at her eyes and her nose and looking up at him with those teary eyes. “But you don’t hate me, okay? We’re still boss and secretary, and neighbors, and friends. You aren’t allowed to hate me.”
“Yeah.” He flicks her in the forehead, and when she whines he thinks maybe they’ll be okay. “Sure thing.”
There’s a knocking on the outside door, and Krystal turns around, peering through the panel to see Jongsuk entering the waiting area. “That’s Jongsuk. I told him we’d all have dinner together last week, but…” She trails off, staring at Woobin with those puppy eyes, and he shakes his head in attempts to refrain the tremor from slipping loose.
“I’ll pass. Too many emotions for one night.”
“Woobin!”
“Kidding, kidding.” He ruffles her hair, and then opens the door. Jongsuk looks surprised to see the two of them together in his office but smiles anyways, nodding slightly at Woobin. “You two go off and have fun, I’ve got some late work to catch up to. Bring me leftovers, Jung Soojung.”
Krystal laughs, dabs at her eyes again, and nods. Her hand linked with Jongsuk’s, she picks up her purse, the same one Woobin at her bought her after her first year of working as his secretary. “Of course, boss. Just for you.”
She does bring leftovers, even if it is at twelve am, and even if she does drag the blankets from his bed into the living room to wear over her work clothes (ruining his for-once neat bedroom, he should add) as she watches Woobin eat her leftovers. It’s as if nothing has changed.
When she leaves, finally, at two-thirty in the morning, Woobin too lazy to move the covers back to his room, he thinks this is probably it.
He might always be in love with Jung Soojung, or Krystal Jung, or whoever she decides to be, but everyone falls down eventually. This is his fall, his tragic step down into reality because he knows what they are is all they will ever be, but Woobin supposes this - this is the best way to go about it. An unrequited love with an eternity to last, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.