Y/N POV

The hallway light flickered as Y/N pushed open the apartment door with her shoulder, juggling a half-spilled file folder, her oversized tote, and a half-dead laptop hanging off one arm. The clock on the microwave blinked 11:08 PM. She let out a groan and shut the door with her foot.

The place was quiet except for the faint buzz of a ceiling fan and the soft clink of dishes from the kitchen. Her dad’s usual late-night radio hum was missing tonight. Her mother peeked out from behind the fridge door, a yogurt cup in hand.

Mom: "That internship better be paying you in gold."

Y/N: (dropping her bag on the shoe rack) "Yeah."

She stepped into the living room, tossing her blazer over the couch, unbuttoning the top of her blouse as she kicked off her shoes.

Mom: "There’s leftover pasta in the microwave. Eat something before you pass out again."

Y/N: "You’re an angel. A sarcastic one, but still."

Sister (from bedroom): "Your laptop survived, by the way. I only opened like six tabs."

Y/N: "If I open it and see my tabs open , I’m locking you out."

Sister: "Not a bad trade."

Y/N sat cross-legged on the bed, plate balanced on her thigh, the blue glow of the screen lighting her face. She opened three tabs in a row: Gmail, LinkedIn, and a job portal. Her inbox was depressing. Two rejections. One ‘we’ll get back to you’ from two weeks ago.

She took a bite of cold pasta and clicked into job listings.

Y/N (muttering): "Corporate lawyer. Entry-level. Reasonable hours. Not run by capitalistic demons. Please."

One job stood out.

> Park Enterprises – Legal Advisory Department

Location: Seoul – Central Business District

Salary: Generous

Requirements: Law degree, basic client handling, 1+ year experience preferred

She blinked. Park Enterprises. One of the most buzzed-about firms in the city. Clean scandals, rich clientele, powerful board. Also known for working people to the bone.

Y/N (mouth full): "Alright, you soulless empire. Im giving you a shot "

She uploaded her resume and hit submit. The tab stayed open for another five minutes while she scrolled Instagram reels of cats and courtroom memes.

She eventually closed the lid, rolled to the side, and muttered into her pillow:

Y/N: "Please don’t let the interview panel have anyone who has a bad mood...or expressionthatsays " I'll judge u so deep.."

( yawn and push her sister to the side who was taking the whole bed )

" Gawd learn to sleep "

Sister:- what ? Do u know…everyday I wake up on the floor...(sleepy voice and irritated face)

Y/N gasped dramatically, turning to glare with one eye open like a cat being disturbed from its nap.

yn :_ " Excuse me?? .Liar. That one time you rolled off yourself."

Y/N groaned, pulling the blanket tighter like it could shield her from the accusations.

Sister:- “Sleep properly, you human octopus.”

Y/N: "If I’m the octopus, then you’re the shrimp "

Sister grabbed the pillow from the floor and chucked it at Y/N’s face without hesitation.

Sister: “Call me a shrimp one more time and I’m...ugh Let’s see who rolls off then.”

Y/N peeked from under the pillow, smirking.

Y/N (mumbling): "Fine. I’ll just build a floor kingdom… no peasants allowed." 🏰😤

Sister threw the blanket over her head and muttered,

Sister: "Hope your kingdom has back pain insurance."

Y/N: "And royal tea. With poison. For you." ☕💀

both giggle and drifted into their fantasy world

Mornings, Coffee, and Clueless Collisions

Y/N POV

She stood in front of her closet with a wet toothbrush still in her mouth, holding up a plain white blouse and a cream one.

Y/N (muffled): "White says ‘hire me’, cream says ‘I’m desperate’. White it is."

By 7:45 AM, she was fully dressed: white tucked blouse, navy trousers, and a beige blazer. Hair tied in a clean mid-bun, light makeup, practical flats. Resume copies in one folder, references in another.

She grabbed her bag and ran to catch the MTR. It was already packed.

Lady beside her: (not even whispering) "She looks like one of those drama girls. Probably off to meet her CEO boyfriend."

Y/N glanced up, locked eyes with her reflection in the train door.

Y/N (internal): "Lady, I’m going to beg for a job, not shoot a K-drama."

She got off at Central Avenue. Her phone said 8:14 AM. The interview was at 9. She spotted the small café she bookmarked the night before. A chalkboard menu outside read:

> Today’s Combo: Black Coffee + Butter Toast \= ₩3,500.

Perfect. Cheap, quick, close to the building.

The smell of roasted beans and baked bread hit her as soon as she walked in. The place was warm, busy but not overcrowded. She pulled her folder tighter to her chest and stepped toward the counter.

Y/N: "Hi, just a butter toast and a small black—"

---

Jay pov

I stood near the entrance, back turned, phone to my ear, a fresh Americano in my left hand. The grey suit was pressed, shoes spotless. I was scrolling through my calendar, speaking into the airPods.

Jay: "Mom, I already said no. I’m not meeting some stranger you found through your yoga club."

I turned—without looking

---

Back to Y/N POV

WHAM.

Hot liquid burst across her chest and shoulder. Her folder dropped, papers spilling onto the café floor.

Y/N (shocked): "Are you—what—oh my god!"

She stared down at her now half-brown blouse. Coffee dripped from her collar onto her blazer. Her resumes were soaked.

The man in front of her glanced up.

Jay: "Watch it."

Y/N: "Excuse me? You literally walked into me with a steaming cup of death."

Jay: "You were in the way."

Y/N: "Right. I’ll just stand behind the counter next time. Makes perfect sense."

He looked her up and down briefly, unimpressed, and walked away toward the exit, still on the phone.

Jay: "Yeah, someone spilled coffee on me. No, I didn’t spill it. Never mind."

She stood there, stunned, furious, and dripping caffeine.

Y/N (muttering): "What a jackass. I hope your Wi-Fi lags forever."

>: Collision Course

Y/N POV

The coffee stain had settled into her shirt like a cursed watermark. The smell of roasted bitterness clung to her collar. As she walked toward Park Enterprises, every step felt like she was being dragged toward humiliation.

Her resume folder, once crisp and proud, now looked like it had gone through a bad breakup. She tried to wipe off what she could at the café’s napkin stand, but the paper was blotched, and the corners curled up in protest.

It was 8:35. She had twenty-five minutes.

She passed by the fountains near the building entrance. People in suits were buzzing in and out, their ID badges bouncing against pressed shirts, phones glued to ears, coffee cups still steaming. No one looked like they spilled anything today. No one looked like her.

She tightened her grip on her bag.

The lobby of Park Enterprises was glass and granite. Tall, cold, quiet—like it charged you per breath. She walked to the front desk, trying not to fidget with her damp cuff.

Receptionist (softly): “Interview candidates, fifth floor. Take the right elevator.”

Y/N: “Thank you.”

She walked toward the elevator with practiced calm, but inside, her chest was thudding.

The elevator was silver, clean, mirrored. She stared at herself. The coffee had left a faint brown patch across her right shoulder. She turned slightly, adjusted her blazer to cover it. It didn’t work.

A woman stepped in beside her. Older, sharply dressed, holding a file.

Woman: “First interview?”

Y/N: “No… I’ve done a few.”

Woman: (nods) “You’ll be fine. They like confident answers. Just don’t try to act smarter than the panel.”

Y/N: “I’ll just try not to look like I ran through a Starbucks explosion.”

They both laughed lightly, the tension breaking a bit.

Elevator voice: “Fifth floor.”

Y/N (internal): “You got this. Just speak clearly. Don’t overtalk. And please, for once, don’t trip over a sentence.”

She stepped into the hall. Long, wide, modern. Frosted doors, labeled offices, expensive art on the walls. She walked slowly, heels silent on the grey carpet.

She reached the door marked “Interview Room A.”

Took a deep breath.

Hand on the knob.

Opened it—

And there he was.

The coffee guy.

Sitting behind the table.

No AirPods this time. No cup in hand.

Just a clean black suit, a watch that probably cost more than her rent, and a bored expression that froze the moment he saw her.

Her heart dropped.

Jay POV

She walked in looking like she'd been steamrolled by a printer—but her chin was high.

Jay leaned back in the chair, expression unreadable. It was her.

He remembered the coffee incident. Vaguely annoying. He hadn’t thought twice about it after walking out.

But now she was here. For a job?

His eyes scanned her quickly. Stained collar. Damp folder. Cheeks red—embarrassed, probably. But she met his gaze.

Brave, he’d give her that.

Panel Member 1: “You must be Miss Y/N?”

Y/N: “Yes. Thank you for having me.”

Her voice was even. Not smug. Not flustered. Just... present.

Jay: “You're five minutes early.”

Y/N: “Better than five minutes late, I suppose.”

Panel Member 2: “Let’s begin. Tell us about your background.”

She answered smoothly. Spoke about her education, her internships. Her experience working with property contracts and small litigation cases.

Jay listened, arms folded. He didn’t interrupt. Not yet.

But when the questions shifted to handling corporate crises, he cut in.

Jay: “What would you do if a senior client leaked sensitive company data during an acquisition meeting?”

She looked at him. Not flinching. Her fingers pressed into her folder, but she didn't stammer.

Y/N: “First, I’d document the incident with full context. Then I’d assess potential legal breaches—NDA violations, liability paths. I’d brief the in-house legal head immediately and prepare statements if media coverage becomes a factor.”

Jay didn’t move. But something twitched in his jaw. She answered well. Very well.

Too bad she called him a jerk in a café.

Too bad she didn’t recognize him then.

Jay: “We’ll be in touch.”

Her face flickered. That was it?

Y/N: “Thank you for your time.”

She stood, bowed slightly to the panel, and walked out.

As the door clicked behind her, Jay leaned back again. Silent.

One of the panel members turned to him.

Panel Member 2: “She was sharp. Even with the... messy look.”

Jay didn’t respond.

Because he was already thinking of what to do next.

And his expression? Yeah... that little smirk was back.

Jay's Return Home

Jay POV

Jay walked into his penthouse with slow, quiet steps. The foyer lights flicked on with a soft glow. His place was massive—glass walls, polished floors, tall shelves, but despite the space, it felt cold. Organized. Almost unlived-in.

He tossed his keys onto the black marble counter and loosened his tie. The silence was familiar, but not comfortable.

In the corner, his housekeeper Miyeon was arranging a vase of orchids.

Miyeon: "Dinner’s on the table, sir. Shall I bring it out?"

Jay: "I’ll eat later. Thank you."

He walked into the living area, where soft jazz was playing low in the background. On the coffee table was a silver tray—his mother must’ve dropped by. A handwritten note sat on it.

> Jay, sweetheart. Meet Minju this Friday. She's lovely and owns two buildings.

He rolled his eyes and sat down, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another blind date arranged by his matchmaking-obsessed mother.

Jay (quietly): "What is it with her and real estate?"

His phone buzzed. Another text from his mom:

> Only son privilege means I get to fuss. Answer your phone next time.

He turned the phone off and tossed it onto the couch. He stood, poured himself a glass of water, and walked to the balcony. The city lights glowed beneath him. But it didn't feel impressive anymore. Just... loud.

His thoughts wandered back to the girl from earlier. Coffee explosion. Annoyed eyes. Smart mouth. And something about how she didn’t back down, even when she looked like a soaked intern disaster.

Jay (to himself): "What a morning."

He needed air. His legs moved before he could reason with himself. He grabbed a hoodie, slipped into sneakers, and left the house quietly. Destination: the lake park.

He needed quiet.

He didn’t know yet... it wasn’t going to be quiet at all.

The Park Bench Incident

Jay POV

The air outside was colder than he'd expected, but familiar. He walked the same trail he had since his college days—before the suits, before the board meetings. This park had always been quiet. No cameras. No suits. Just rustling trees and an old wooden bench half-sunken near the lake.

Jay shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, exhaling a slow breath. The city felt far away here. This bench had been his escape since he was twenty. A safe place. Predictable.

Except tonight, someone was sitting there.

She was slouched, bottle of soju by her foot, pink in the face, and muttering to herself.

Jay paused.

Jay (internal): "No way."

It was her.

The coffee girl.

Hair loosened from its bun. Shoes kicked off. Her blazer draped over the bench like a thrown towel. She hadn’t seen him.

Y/N (slurring): "May that arrogant... pretty boy CEO step on the tiniest Lego. Twice. And may his tailor shrink his suit pants."

Jay raised a brow.

Jay: "You’re in my spot."

She blinked up, confused, squinting.

Y/N: "Oh. Are you a park ghost? I’m not scared of you."

Jay: "I’m not a ghost. Just a guy who wants to sit."

Y/N: "Then sit. Plenty of room."

She patted the spot beside her.

He hesitated, then sat. She smelled like cheap soju and caramel toast. Her voice was soft. Vulnerable.

Y/N: "You ever have a day that just... kicks you?"

Jay said nothing.

Y/N: "I bombed an interview today. CEO guy was all—" (she made a face) "—'you’re reckless and late and you smell like failure'. Not in those words, but he had that energy."

Jay looked away, smirking slightly.

Y/N: "He had this perfect suit. And perfect watch. And perfect hair. Bet he doesn’t even spill his own coffee. Probably makes his interns do it."

Jay: "Sounds like a nightmare."

Y/N: "Right? Ugh. And I called him a jerk in a café before the interview. Didn’t even know he was the CEO."

She laughed. Jay blinked slowly.

Jay (dryly): "Did he deserve it?"

Y/N: "I think so. But maybe I’m just cranky. I haven’t eaten all day."

She leaned her head back against the bench, staring up at the moon.

Y/N: "Hey, you’re nice. Not like him. Thanks for sitting here. I needed... someone."

Jay’s jaw clenched. She didn’t recognize him. Not even a flicker.

He stood up.

Jay: "Go home."

Y/N: "Mmm... eventually. Maybe when the ground stops spinning."

He watched her for another second. Then walked away, hands deep in his pockets, face unreadable.

Jay (internal): "She’s going to regret tonight. And I’m not done with her yet."

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