SEX & SINS. [KTH]

01 | CHAPTER ONE

SAME OL' MISTAKES / 
RIHANNA

Seven minutes, thirty-two seconds, and counting.

The clock ticks above the glass doors of the meeting room, a steady rhythm that mirrors the soft tap of Suhwa's pen against the table. It's the only thing she hears as she counts lines on the paper of her notebook. Left and right, people are discussing and throwing ideas on what the magazine should do for the upcoming month's issues. This is where she's supposed to play her part as editor in chief. Suhwa is supposed to listen, approve and disapprove and expand ideas that her co-workers are currently throwing at her.

Six minutes, fifteen seconds, and still counting until the clock strikes nine and Suhwa can finally get out.

It's been a while since a meeting is held this late at night. Her sleepiness keeps her from concentrating on what her colleagues are saying, so she tunes them out and doodles on the blank page instead. She's been doing this almost every day for the past two years, she knows that someone from marketing and editorial will end up breaking into a pointless argument. They're doing that right now and this is where she's supposed to play her part but she ignores them, because they're adults and they should be able to pull their head out of their asses and be professional. Suhwa sighs, it's obvious that they're arguing because it's also personal. There's a reason why she doesn't let her co-workers date anyone from work, though she doesn't particularly care what they do when they think she's not paying attention.

Suhwa wants to go home.

Except she doesn't. She doesn't want to face her husband who pays more attention to his work rather than his wife. It's unfair on his part because she works all day too, but at least she puts effort into calling and checking up on him once in a while (which she's done less recently because honestly, what's the point?). Her husband doesn't even spare her a glance when she comes home. His eyes are always fixated on the computer.

The ring on Suhwa's finger feels heavier as the days go by and she wonders if this is what falling out of love feels like, wonders if it was even love, to begin with.

"chief? What do you think?"

The sound of Suhwa's proclaimed title in the room, in the whole building, directed at her makes her snap out of her trance. She can feel her ears warm, and a tinge of red is obviously smearing her cheeks. Suhwa hates her pale complexion, wishes that she can have those beautiful golden skin she finds herself admiring whenever she opens foreign magazines.

All eyes in the room are on her and Suhwa feels herself flush even more because she wasn't paying attention. What kind of boss is she? They're waiting for her response, eyes anxious for the approval of whatever it is they're on about. Suhwa has to admit that having this kind of power, this authority and relevance, can shake a girl up a bit.

Suhwa recollects herself and sits up straighter, she brushes the loose strands of her ponytail behind her ears.

"Can you try to be more specific?"

That man, Namjoon from the creative department (Namjoon's not problematic, Suhwa likes him), fixes his tie and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for what could be a really long and detailed explanation.

Four minutes, fifty-six seconds, and Suhwa wishes that she can finally stop counting.

"Well — uh. I thought — my team and I thought that—"

"Out with it, Namjoon. Haven't got all day." she taps at her wristwatch and glances at the clock for more effect.

"Right. Sorry. As I was saying, my team and I thought that it would be a good idea for us to spice things up by featuring diversity. Like, not just having mixed-raced models, but delving deeper into their specific culture and fashion evolution."

He stops, looking at her warily as if he needs permission to continue. Suhwa nods and motions for him to go on. The relief in his eyes is too obvious. Are they that scared of her?

But Namjoon halts, scratching the back of his neck and looking down in embarrassment. "That's actually all I have. I didn't plan this quite enough, truthfully."

"We could go big," someone pipes in. All eyes turn to the figure leaning against the wall at the back of the room. Unlike everyone else, he's been standing there for the whole time. And unlike everyone else, he's new. Suhwa's not sure she remembered ever hiring him, doesn't even know his name. But she can shamefully admit that she doesn't remember who is who and who is in what department (except Namjoon and a very few others) despite having been working with the same people for a year. The only person she's gone past acquainted with is Namjoon, who she only befriended because he's the only one around her age.

At the ripe age of twenty-seven, regardless of the authority she holds over people who are older than her, Suhwa still feels like she's a kid in a room full of adults. It's just like an innocent game of office, a play pretend she can never really get used to.

"Big as in fly to the decided destination and do a week long research," the newbie continues, "'bout time some of us get out of Seoul, anyway, right?" a breathy laugh escapes his lips. He's young, at least younger than most of the people here. Maybe even younger than her and Namjoon. Suhwa wonders if he's old enough, experienced enough to be working. The simple plain black shirt he wears is a contrast to everyone's extravagant and rather unique choice of clothing (it is a fashion company, after all).

Though Suhwa is confused by the new addition to the team, she supposes that the new face can fresh her up a bit.

"I'm sorry, but... who are you?"

"That's Taehyung," Namjoon answers instead, "he's the replacement photographer for Dongwoo, the one I mentioned to you three days ago?"

Taehyung gives her a slight bow of the head.

"Right," she averts her attention back at Namjoon, "you can plan this further and then come to me when everything's all written down. Pick your team in advance, so you'll be all set if this project is a go."

She risks one more glance at her new employee and finds the boy's eyes not leaving hers.

Despite herself, Suhwa closes her notebook in a harsh manner and dismisses the meeting three minutes early. She's the first one to be out the door and when her name is called out, someone yelling something about important people being on the phone wanting to speak to her, she waves them off and heads toward the elevator.