RDM | MW [✔]

08. Wonwoo

I was going to get yelled at.

My sneakers squeaked against the tile floor as I stepped into the lobby. Even though the lights were low, it still felt bright. The walls looked similar to the ones Somin worked between—stark white and sterile. The desk in front of me was vacant but shiny enough that I could make out my reflection as I stepped forward.

There were hallways to my right and left, pinging off the lobby like different routes on a circuit board. I hadn't been here before but the man who'd dropped me off told me to follow the widest hallway. Forehead pinched, I spun in a circle, studying each one of my potential routes before deciding the one behind the desk looked the largest.

My steps were weighted, growing heavier and heavier as I circled the oversized workstation and started down the hall. It got darker the longer I walked, and I couldn't help but wrap my hands in the bottom of my sweatshirt.

I was going to get yelled at. I just knew it. It had been almost four weeks since I found ghost's post, and I still hadn't been able to figure out who or where he was. Couple that information with the fact that Mr. Choi had never called me into his office before, and I knew.

A noise escaped my throat. It was weak, but still, it echoed off the walls I moved between, bouncing from one side to the other. The reverberation made me feel a little less alone as I came to a halt in front of a set of doors.

The gold, polished handle I reached for was the fanciest thing I'd ever seen. Fingers wrapped around the ring, I noted how cold the steel was before I tugged the door open with a grunt.

Fluorescent lights poured over me from every direction, highlighting the expansive office and all the lavish furniture it held. I wasn't sure where to look as I tried to take it all in—the seating area, the bar, the chandelier.

It was all so opulent—and if you asked me, a little flashy.

My hand slipped off the handle. The edge of the door hit me in the back hard enough to send me stumbling forward. A wave of uncertainty threatened to knock me off my feet when the door latched shut behind me. I gnawed at my bottom lip. I didn't feel any pain but the familiar, metallic taste of blood met my tongue.

I shouldn't have come without Daddy.

"Hello?"

Mr. Choi's office was vast... and empty. There were more white walls and a three-foot marble sculpture that reminded me of mashed potatoes. Geometric shapes were woven into the large rug beneath my shoes. Hundreds of square feet lie before me and there wasn't a single plant in sight.

I frowned.

That's probably why he's so grumpy.

His desk was the centerpiece of the room—an oversized thing made entirely of glass. It looked like something from a spaceship, and it was the only thing that interested me.

I weaved through a couple of suede chairs and placed the tip of my finger on the edge of it, grinning at the strange sound it made and the smudge it left behind. It faded quickly, and I continued doodling shapes against the glass, wondering if Daddy would buy me a desk just like this. It was huge. I bet it could hold five monitors and a couple of keyboards. Easily.

Mr. Choi probably used this cool spaceship desk for stupid, boring stuff like paperwork and humdrum phone calls. Ew.

"Who are you?"

I flinched. The violent act caused my arm to lash out, and my elbow connected with a stapler. The little contraption hit the floor with a clank and skidded across the room.