The Storm and the Sea (A MiChaeng Fanfic)

Chapter 4: Mina

As all storms went, it always started with faint rumbling, with the thunder confined only within the bed of clouds.

***

In the attempt to be discreet, I bailed out on Carl's offer to have lunch with him and his friend. It's kind of forward, and I don't think I'm such. Besides, unless I'm forced to talk to a person, I would most likely be mum in the restaurant (or wherever they're eating).

"Aren't you heading out for lunch?" Jihyo asks me.

"I'm waiting for you guys."

Our boss shakes her head. "Aigoo, go on ahead. Dahyun-ah and I are going to have a little discussion of our own."

My sights shift to Dahyun, who seems apologetic, her disposition worrying me as to whatever this discussion may be.

"Don't you dare resign," I say in an attempt to jest. My younger colleague just chuckles, her attention elsewhere. Wait-don't tell me she's already jumping ship? She can't-she's my closest confidant here!

Despite my meandering thoughts, I step out of our area, giving one last glance at Dahyun before Jihyo pulls down the curtain. Please let me be wrong.

***

Seeing that it's still two days from payday, and I'm only living on 23,000 won until then, I opt for the nearest McDonald's. After all, I've been craving their fries since the weekend.

Thankfully, despite being lunchtime, the line isn't that long. I have more than enough time to partake in a large serving of fries and, of course, ketchup.

"Minari," a loud voice calls from the other side of the establishment. It's Carl. Shit.

I do a quick survey of my appearance before slowly turning to where he's seated. He waves his hand eagerly, ushering me to come over. Naturally, my gaze transfers to his friend, who has a blank expression as she looks at me. God, even the way she brushes her finger against her chin is sexy.

After getting my order, I casually approach their table, with Carl patting the seat beside him. Keep calm, Mina-it's not like this is a date.

"Son Chaeyoung, Mina Myoi. Mina Myoi, Son Chaeyoung," Carl eagerly says, waving his hand between us.

As I was about to bow, Chaeyoung reaches out for a handshake, which I hesitantly reciprocate. In the short time our hands interact, I see that she has small tattoos on her fingers.

"Nice to meet you," Chaeyoung exclaims in English with a pleasant smile.

"You too," I return in the same language.

Chaeyoung's feline eyes widen. "Oh! She speaks English, too," she exclaims, looking at her Canadian friend.

"Well, she is our only writer in the team," Carl explains while chewing his burger. Gross. "She's expected to know some languages," he adds after swallowing.

Shortly after, Chaeyoung asks me something in ,what I assume is, French-catching me off-guard.

Carl is quick to my rescue, shaking his head, responding in the same vernacular.

Chaeyoung chuckles and hums before continuing in the foreign language. Carl, on the other hand, scoffs. Of course, they're both from Canada, so it's normal for them to know French.

I don't like it when people discuss things around me in a way that I'm excluded, so I level with the both of them. "Sorry, I can't speak French."

Carl pats me on the head. "Don't worry-just an inside joke," he assures in Korean. Despite my doubts, I just nod my head.

"So, she also knows my native tongue," Chaeyoung notes as she leans back and rests her arm on the seat beside her. This is some prelude to Fifty Shades shit, if I ever saw one. "Do you think you'll be my sunbae?" she asks, now in Korean.

Her forward disposition takes me aback. How can a person be like this to someone they met less than ten minutes ago?

"I dunno, did you do well in the interview and practical exam?" I ask with a shrug before unpeeling my burger's wrapper. From the corner of my eye, I could see Carl stifling his laughter.

"Fair enough," Chaeyoung says, curtly laughing as well. She nods, bobbing her head, before setting her eyes on me. "Well, won't you wish me luck?"

***

I'd be lying if I said the afternoon went by smoothly. Just like that, we have to work on two new pitches, with deadlines next week. Given the "fortunate" turn of events, I join Carl on the rooftop for a cigarette (maybe two).

"I thought you quit," Carl mumbles, lighting his stick. He's right-I did quit, but c'mon, this day has been a crappy rollercoaster to say the least.

Well, that's three years and five months of being nicotine-free down the drain.

Before we head back and render overtime, I try to shift the negative energy. "By the way, what did Chaeyoung-ssi tell you earlier?"

He slowly breathes out the smoke from his lungs. "What do you mean? We had a lot to talk about?"

"You know...when you guys spoke...French, was it?"

Before he could breathe all the smoke out, he chokes on the remnants as he attempts to laugh. As soon as he recovers, Carl clears his throat. "It's nothing of interest to you."

Wow, I didn't know Carl was this bad at lying. I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him. "Come on, tell me," I beg.

"Okay, okay! No need to be angry!"

What?! Angry?! I'm simply asking him to spill the beans!

Carl sighs, putting out his cigarette. "'Well...isn't she pretty? I'd like to get to know her better, if you get what I mean.'"

My hand instinctively swats Carl's arm, to which he winces. "Hey. You're almost married. Stop that."

He grimaces then chuckles, shaking his head. "No, stupid-that's what Chaeyoung said."