Saved || A Jungkook fanfic

24.

Jin could never do anything simple.

I should've known better than to trust him when he insisted that meeting Jungkook at his office was the best course of action. You know, instead of doing the normal, reasonable thing—waiting for him at home like a sane person.

"I have the perfect plan, don't worry," he had declared while rummaging through the closet like a man possessed, searching for God knows what.

I should have put a stop to it then. But no. I let my best friend bulldoze over my instincts.

"Also, could make for some pretty kinky makeup sex."

That had earned him a solid smack to the back of the head.

And yet, here I was. Dressed like a corporate seductress in a form-fitting pencil skirt and a white silk blouse, posing as Jin's personal assistant.

This had disaster written all over it.

"They're not going to let us in without an appointment. Do you even understand how major Lègende Gold is?" Jin asked as he shoved a pair of black heels at me to complete the look.

I shrugged. "Sort of?"

Jin groaned like I had personally insulted his ancestors. "They're the leading designer fashion house. We're talking above Hermès, Chanel, Louis Vuitton! You don't just waltz in and demand to see the Jeons."

The truth was, I only knew what Jungkook had told me about his career—which, admittedly, wasn't much. I never researched him or his company, mostly because I was terrified I'd feel even more inadequate than I already did. The little I did know was that Jungkook worked himself to the bone, rarely sleeping, always running off to meetings at ungodly hours. And that he had an older sister who designed many of the pieces for their next collection. Beyond that? Not much more.

I swallowed hard as we walked up to the imposing skyscraper, its mirrored windows reflecting the surrounding city like a fortress of glass. The nerves in my stomach coiled tighter with each step, my heart hammering as we approached the entrance.

Jin, of course, was thriving. Hands in his pockets, humming casually, oozing the confidence of someone who actually belonged here. Meanwhile, I stumbled along behind him like a newborn deer, my ponytail swinging wildly as I tried (and failed) to walk in the death traps he called heels. My palms were already sweating, and we hadn't even stepped inside yet.

The lobby was all polished marble and steel, high ceilings stretching into an endless expanse above us. Jin strolled through security like he owned the place, while I attempted to keep up without tripping over my own feet.

At the front desk, a meticulously groomed receptionist greeted us with the kind of polite yet soulless smile that screamed, I hate this job.

"How can I help you, sir?" she asked.

Jin didn't even glance at her, examining his nails like a man with very important things to do. "I'm here to meet with Mr. Jeon."

"Your name, sir?" She began typing before Jin even responded.

"Kim. Kim Seokjin."

Her fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, but I caught the slight twitch in Jin's hand as we waited. He was getting anxious.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't see your name on his schedule. Maybe—"

Jin suddenly turned on me, his glare hitting me like a slap. "You idiot!"

My mouth fell open in shock as several well-dressed employees turned to stare.

"Why do you never follow my instructions correctly, you pig?!" Jin bellowed.

The receptionist and I exchanged identical looks of horror.

"You're completely useless! I should fire you right now! I don't care if you need this job to pay for your mother's surgery—"

"Wait!" The receptionist practically lunged for her keyboard, typing at lightning speed. "I see that Mr. Jeon has an opening at 1:30 p.m. There must have been a system error. I'll add you in right now."

Jin sighed dramatically. "Ah, thank you for understanding."

And just like that, we were in.

The moment the elevator doors closed, I turned on Jin. "Was that really necessary?!"

Jin flicked an invisible speck of dust off his sleeve. "Of course, it was necessary, idiot. Do you have any idea how corporate appointments work? You don't just show up and demand to see a CEO."

I huffed, trying to steady my breathing, my nails digging into my palms. "This is the dumbest idea you've ever had."

Jin snorted. "I'll take that thank you in cash. And an Oscar for my stellar performance."

I narrowed my eyes. "We'll see about that. If this doesn't work and I've lost Jungkook forever, you're going to pay."

Jin merely grinned. "Wow, you really are head over heels in lo—ow, fuck! Hit me again and—"

The elevator dinged, cutting off his whining.

We stepped onto a pristine floor bathed in fluorescent light, the air buzzing with frantic energy. Rows of desks stretched across the massive space, employees flitting between them with color swatches, clothing racks, and stacks of paperwork. The muted murmur of voices, the clacking of heels on tile, the occasional sharp ring of a phone—it was a well-oiled machine, a symphony of controlled chaos.

Jin and I wove through the maze of workers, but as we moved deeper into the hallways, the noise began to fade.

"Are you sure this is the right floor?" I whispered, my nerves flaring up again.

Jin hesitated. "The receptionist said this was the top floor... Can't go any higher."

He finally looked a bit unsure of himself, which didn't inspire confidence.

I took in the quiet, the sleek, minimalist decor, the heavy wooden doors with gold nameplates. "Wow. Jungkook really does run a massive company."

"No shit," Jin muttered. "I mean, this is—"

Before he could finish, a door swung open with the force of a wrecking ball—straight into my face.

Pain exploded across my forehead as I stumbled backward, landing on my ass with an ungraceful thud.

"Ouch! Son of a—bitch!" I clutched my head, already feeling a bump forming.

"Jesus! Watch where you—"

A sharp inhale. A familiar voice.

"Ailene?"