"And the memories bring back, memories bring back you"
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The morning was as old as the coffee on Jung Jaehyun's desk. He tapped the side of the cheap plastic cup to breaking the murky surface and watch the new gap grow. A few drops of the frigid brown drink had splashed onto his hand, the ripples spreading toward the rim in ever larger circles. He let out a long sigh, scanning his miserable surroundings again with open distaste.
His father's office was painted white, and it had only one floor-to-ceiling window, which faced the main road. On the grey desk sat a desktop computer, an open notebook, and a stack of papers that rested under a stone paperweight.
In a corner, the air conditioner was blasting at medium, and there was a sofa leaning against the one of the four walls of the office. A bookshelf, bursting with books was in another corner, with yet another stack of papers under a paperweight- this one was shaped to look like a tuft of grass. A few pens were lying on the papers, but some had fallen onto the top of the bookshelf.
Everything here was just as dull and boring as father, he lamented, his lips twitching down into a frown.
"Sir."
The door creaked open and his father's awfully young secretary made her way in. Jaehyun leaned forward slightly, letting his eyes slide over her body, adding up her pluses and minuses like a mathematical equation.
"Did i say you could come in?"
The girl froze in step, a blush searing through her cheeks and for a minute she felt as if her face was on fire. The Boss' son was sure hot.
"I'm so sorry, sir," she rushed out, her eyes going round. She bit down on her nearly cracked lower lip tightly. "There's an urgent call for you, so i thought-"
She cut herself off when he turned to look directly into her obsidian orbs icily.
"So you thought you could just prance in here without permission?" He raised a sculpted brow. "My father may tolerate this type of disrespect, but i most definitely don't."
"S-sorry, sir," she whimpered, flinching back.
"Forget it. Put me on the line with your supposed urgent caller."
"Yes, sir," she dashed off on her wobbly toothpick legs, shutting the door behind her.
The wired telephone beside Jaehyun beeped, indicating the connection of the call. He picked the receiver up.
"Jung Jaehyun speaking," he said lazily, leaning back in his swivel chair.
There was a short pause before a deadpanned reply came.
