Of course it had to be raining. It was only natural, considering she had only just left her apartment in a rush with no time to circle back for an umbrella. And of course today had to be the day that she had slept through her alarm and was now running late, running in the rain, praying she wouldn't be late for her interview.
"So, would you describe yourself as an organized person?"
Jisoo sat in a pristine white loft office, still trying to catch her breath from her mile-long sprint down to the gallery. The man sitting across from her was certainly judging her frumpy clothes and her messy wet hair which stuck to her face. The interview, which she hadn't been late for, had gone as well as Jisoo could have hoped.
She thought back to her apartment. There was not a single clear space on her counters, nor on her floor, which was covered with dirty laundry and trash and god knows what - no, Jisoo Kim was certainly not an organized person.
"I would say that I am, yes, when the opportunity is given. In my work I am extremely organized." She lied, trying her best to appear as cool and collected as the slim man who was peering at her over his rectangle-shaped glasses. He was dressed in the ugliest suit Jisoo had seen in her life – olive green with a 'flashy' orange paisley pattern running in stripes along it's bottom, it was almost an insult to fashion everywhere. But this was the cutting edge of art galleries in New York, and she had been lucky to even get an interview. So what if she botched it, it wasn't like she'd get it anyway.
The job on offer was literally the worst of the worst – only a little over an internship position, she knew that even if she got the job her days would consist very little of actual art-consulting and more of fetching coffee and being an office lackey for the art snobs of New York.
But she needed the money.
She desperately needed the money.
The man smiled at her, a forced, toothy smile, and Jisoo knew then that she wasn't getting the job.
"Thank you very much, Miss Kim. We'll contact you as soon as we've made a decision."
He stood up as Jisoo did, but did not offer his hand for her to shake. Jisoo nodded and muttered a goodbye before hurrying her steps out of the office, out of the loft, and out onto the crowded streets of New York.
It wasn't until she was back at her apartment that she let the frustration get to her. She threw her bag against the wall, chucking her heels into the corner as she grumbled curses and swears.
Once she'd rid herself of the ridiculously uncomfortable blazer and pencil skirt, she fell back onto her bed, a bottle of wine in one hand and her phone in the other.
As she waited for the call to go through, she took a lont swig from her bottle.
"Jisoo?"
"I botched it, Lisa. Drinks?"
Jisoo heard an exasperated sigh on the other end. "That's the third one this week, Jisoo."
"He was wearing the ugliest suit."
"Did you fuck it up on purpose?"
"No."
"Meet me at the Ark in fifteen."
Jisoo sighed as she let her phone fall down onto the bed. She glanced at the other side of the bed – it was empty, as it had been for at least two weeks now. Somehow, sleeping in an empty bed did not bother her. If anything, it gave her solace, knowing Jinyoung wouldn't be coming back.
Jinyoung's watch was still on the bedside table. She wondered if he'd ever come back for it.
She hoped not.
YOU ARE READING
The Marrying Type || Jensoo & Chaelisa
FanfictionJisoo Kim isn't the marrying type. Anything but that. Marriage, for her, is out of the question. And yet, through some sick and confusing twist of fate, she finds herself with a wife that she cannot recall a thing about. Hell, she doesn't even know...