𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃

TWO.

Y/n sighed as he continued his arduous journey up the stairs. Beads of perspiration rolled down his cheeks, as he clutched on the arm rail, breathing heavily.

Goddamnit, he thought, was a job really worth it for all this trouble?

Briefly, he glanced at his watch — a stunning thirty minutes had passed since he had made the climb up the stairs. It was now one-forty-five am in the morning. The location he had been told to arrive at was on the fiftieth floor—and due to him not having any card of authority with him to take the company lift, Y/n had been forced to take the stairs. A horrible workout, if you asked him—his legs were now sore and painful.

To make matters worse—Damian had only sent a last minute reminder. That CEO was treating him like a third-class citizen: not even bothering to send him proper reminders or schedules. He couldn't even handle his own schedule, how was he supposed to handle others?

Was demented the word of the month? Filthy liar.

It took another ten agonizing minutes for Y/n to climb up the rest of the stairs, and when he finally reached the top, he collapsed on the floor, not giving a shit to whoever might pass and see his sorry state. At that moment of time, he had abandoned his sanity and shame—he was now one pathetic mass of goo laid out on the floor.

From the start, wasn't this just a bait? Y/n was the poor, foolish servant that had been lured in with the promises of money; he despised his situation. He didn't ask for it. He was born in it. He was supposed to be one of the idols on the stage; singing and dancing, preparing amidst hundreds of thousands of deafening cheers..yet here he was, working behind the background.

I hate this, Y/n brooded bitterly, first the stairs, and now the situation...

There was a click, and the door opened.

Y/n jumped, his eyes widening. He scrambled to his feet, cursing the importance of first impressions; before he sucked in a sharp breath.

"...Juwon." He said at last, his mouth dry and his words somber. He stood numbly at the side, hands limp. His eyes studied the successful make in front of him, soon to be a world wide famous idol. He was destined for greatness.

While Y/n was—

It was hard not to feel inferior next to him—Juwon looked much better than he had previously. Y/n didn't know what intense skin care regime he was on, but he was practically glowing. A star. Even his eyes twinkled as he took in Y/n's sorry state—and Y/n couldn't help but shoot him a familiar, playful glare.

"It's been too long, Y/n," Juwon said softly, immediately bringing Y/n into a tight embrace that elicited a tight yelp—"why didn't you call? Why didn't you reply to your messages? We missed you, very much."

Was that a dark undertone beneath the words...? Or had Y/n simply imagined it?

"I was busy," Y/n kept his tone light, "I had hardly enough time to check my phone."

"Hmm." Juwon gave a non-committal answer, instead grabbing Y/n's hand and pulling him towards the open door—"but you accepted the offer the CEO gave you?"

Offer my ass. I was forced into it.

"Yeah, I did," Y/n said unceremoniously, but immediately felt bad after Juwon's expression became more serious, "I mean—I didn't really have a choice, right?"

There was a more bitter, more petty undercurrent to it. Compared to the bright and cheerful person he was during the survival show—well, this was light and day. But Y/n was human. He was capable of feeling negative emotions: something fans certainly did not understand. The amount of times hate comments had flooded in just because he was evil-edited had been cruel.