Overtime |Minsung Smut One-Shot ✓

Overtime

It was around 10.

Folks throughout the office building were standing from their seats, stretching with satisfied hums after being glued to it all day. They made plans after work- maybe some barbecue, street food, a bar- who knows.

It was a day to celebrate; a previous issue- their hard work as reporters, editors, photographers, managers and all the like- was nominated, and with fingers crossed, win an award.

Gathering their things, they crowded in small groups, chattered on their way down, and out the building.

Those were the reporters and section editors, small photographers and some managers.

For the big-time editors, graphic editors, the advertisement manager, their secretaries, and Lee Minho- their company's publisher, had to stay to ready tomorrow's issue- something honorary, but not something to celebrate.

Especially for Minho- going over stories one last time, the advertising manager's stupid requests for vacation, messaging editors and photographers to fix up the tiniest bits so the issue could be picture perfect- or as perfect as it could be. Nothing was perfect, and that irritated Minho.

Minho never asked for much, didn't ask for a perfect life, or a perfect day. All he asked for was a perfect issue- a newspaper where nothing went wrong.

Nothing about the sports editor bailing out; the companies on their paper, pulling out of their deal the night before they printed the issue; photo editors doing a shit job at editing their pictures; the coffee machine Minho so depended on to survive, breaking; a typing error a stupid fucking editor missed!

If one day all those problems disappeared- only for a day- Minho would die happy.

He knew his dream would never come to him- they were journalists after all. They all made mistakes. Mistakes that they could easily avoid if the people he worked with actually listened- well, at least they were loyal to him. They get their jobs done, and more, and it satisfied him. They were his bothersome children, and he was the mother; always nipping at his heels, he would scold them, they won't listen, but they'd help him.

For now, however, he's stuck at his desk for God knows how long. One, two, maybe five more hours?

Jesus, Minho committed to this company- and he worked for his paycheck, goddamn it!

At around 10:30, Minho almost threw his computer when the same mistake of a reporter emailed him about the stupidest story idea a human being could muster- after being rejected multiple times.

No, they were a Publishing Company! If he allowed some dimwit to write a story about gummy bear companies- they would be a laughingstock! Maybe it fit their website- but not for their newspaper- never for their newspaper! Until that gummy bear company won a Nobel prize- it would never be on a page of their newspaper! But no- Minho shouldn't- No story idea is stupid, there are just good ones and-

"Sir?" A quiet knock resonated from the office door.

"What?!" Minho yelled.

Unless it would benefit the newspaper, he didn't want to fucking hear it!

"Here's the latest version of the issue you sent Felix to print earlier." A head poked in, doe eyes on the fuming man in his office- scared to enter- as he should be.

Minho sighed, nodding and gesturing for the man to enter.

"Let me see it," Minho took deep breaths to calm himself, shutting his eyes for a quick second before eyeing the man who slipped into the room.