Haru and I stood silently in front of the chairwoman's office, waiting as her secretary informed her of our arrival. Haru took the opportunity to turn me toward him, his hands gripping my shoulders firmly. He scrutinized my attire like a perfectionist, his eyes narrowing slightly. Without a word, he reached for my black tie, adjusting it to sit perfectly in place.

"There," he said, stepping back with a satisfied grin. "You look sharp in this outfit. Perfect!"

I was dressed in black trousers and a matching suit, paired with a light blue shirt. My hair, neatly combed back, gave me a formal appearance, though it did little to hide my nerves. "I'm nervous," I muttered under my breath, leaning closer to him as if seeking reassurance. "What if I mess up and do something stupid?"

Haru's response was immediate. He cupped my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You're going to be fine," he said firmly, his smile warm and reassuring. "Stop being such a scaredy cat."

The secretary returned, opening the door and gesturing for us to enter. My stomach churned as Haru stepped inside confidently, leaving me to follow in his wake, my nerves growing stronger with each step.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lee," Haru greeted warmly, his voice steady and professional as he approached the elegant woman rising from her desk.

Mrs. Lee extended her hand with a faint smile, shaking Haru's firmly. She exuded authority, her short, curly blonde hair framing her face, while her mocha-brown lipstick accentuated her sharp features. Her hazel eyes soon shifted to me, studying me closely.

"You must be Park Myung," she said, her tone calm yet direct.

I bowed politely, forcing a small smile. "Yes, Mrs. Lee. Thank you for giving me this opportunity."

"Well," she replied, her arms crossing over the silk red-wine blouse she wore, "I trust Haru's judgment." Her voice was poised, but there was an underlying firmness that made me tense. "Mr. Kim, would you mind stepping out for a few minutes? I prefer to conduct the interview alone."

"Of course, Ma'am," Haru replied smoothly, shooting me an encouraging smile as he patted my back before exiting the room.

The moment Haru left, the warmth in Mrs. Lee's expression evaporated, replaced by a stern, stoic demeanor. "Sit down, please," she instructed, gesturing toward the sleek black leather armchair positioned before her desk.

I lowered myself into the chair, my hands resting awkwardly on my lap. The air in the room suddenly felt heavier. She took her seat across from me, her movements deliberate and composed.

Mrs. Lee lit a cigar, the rich scent of tobacco filling the air as she crossed one leg over the other. She regarded me with a calculated gaze as she took a slow puff.

"I've been curious to meet you," she began, her voice cutting through the silence. "I've heard quite a bit about you—how talented and intelligent you are."

Her words made me squirm slightly, and I gave a nervous chuckle. "Um, Mr. Kim tends to... exaggerate sometimes," I replied sheepishly.

Her eyes narrowed as her tone turned sharp. "I hope he hasn't. I have little patience for unprofessional employees. If it were solely my decision, I would have chosen an experienced personal assistant for him."

Her bluntness hit me like a slap. My gaze faltered as I stammered, "I... I completely understand. If you feel I'm not qualified—"

"No," Mrs. Lee interrupted, snuffing out her cigar in the ashtray on her desk. "You're being hired because he insists on it, and I value him too much to deny his request. However," her gaze bore into mine. "I will be watching you. Closely. If you make mistakes or fail to meet expectations, you're out. Is that clear?"

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "I won't disappoint you, Mrs. Lee," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the nerves coursing through me.

She smirked faintly before standing, prompting me to rise as well. Extending her hand toward me, she said, "Well, then. Take care of our CEO, Mr. Park."

Her emphasis on our struck me as peculiar, but I shook her hand firmly. "I will," I promised.

"Good. You're dismissed," she said curtly, pulling her hand back and returning to her desk.

I bowed once more. "Have a nice day," I murmured before leaving the room, my heart pounding in my chest.

I stepped out of the chairwoman's office, closing the door gently behind me, my heart racing like a drumbeat in my chest. The encounter had been nothing short of intense, and I felt like I'd just walked out of a lion's den. My palms were damp, my nerves frayed, and Mrs. Lee's sharp words lingered in my mind.

Haru, leaning casually against the wall across from the office, straightened up as soon as he saw me. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, though his playful grin gave away his confidence in how things had gone.

"How was it?" he asked, pushing off the wall and stepping closer, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

I let out a shaky breath, loosening my tie slightly. "I survived," I muttered, avoiding his gaze as I straightened my posture. "I got hired."

Haru asked curiously, "What did she say or ask anyway?"

"Usual questions," I said, my voice quieter than usual. "In conclusion, she just wanted me to work hard." I didn't share details with him since I didn't want him to worry.

Haru let out a soft laugh of relief and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "That's good. Also, if she said you're hired, it's because she sees potential—even if she won't admit it outright."

"Potential, huh?" I mumbled under my breath, still feeling the weight of her warning.

"Hey," Haru said, turning me to face him. His expression was calm but earnest. "You've got this, Myung. I wouldn't have recommended you if I didn't believe in you."

His words, spoken with such genuine confidence, eased some of the tension coiling in my chest. I gave him a small, hesitant smile. "Thanks... Haru..."

Haru smiled, his usual carefree demeanor returning. "Ey! Don't mention it!"

As we walked down the hallway together, Haru bumped my shoulder lightly into his. "Now that you've survived the chairwoman, the rest will be easy. Welcome to the team, Mr. Park."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress the small grin forming on my lips. "Don't expect me to call you 'sir' or anything," I said teasingly. "You're just Haru. That's it."

"Noted," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But you might regret saying that during your first late-night report."

Despite the lingering nerves, I found myself chuckling along with him. Maybe, just maybe, I'd figure out how to handle this new chapter after all.

*****

Once Monday rolled around, I officially began my role as Haru's personal assistant. The office emitted a sense of focused energy, humming quietly with productivity. Sunlight streamed through the expansive windows, casting golden patterns across the polished hardwood floors, giving the space an air of calm sophistication.

As I entered the main office hall, I felt several pairs of curious eyes glance my way. Workers at their desks paused momentarily, likely wondering who I was. Trying to avoid their gazes, I approached the long desk just outside the door marked "CEO Office." This was my designated spot. Placing my backpack on the chair, I hesitated, unsure of my next move. Should I introduce myself to them one by one? Would that seem too forward?

Rummaging through my bag absentmindedly, I froze as Haru's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Myung."

I looked up sharply to see him stepping out of his office. Dressed in black trousers and a crisp white linen shirt, he looked effortlessly polished, his brown hair neatly styled. As he approached, a grin lit up his face. "You're early."

"Can't be late on my first day," I murmured, straightening up and letting go of my backpack.

"Good boy!" Haru teased, reaching out to pat my head, causing me to flinch slightly. His hand slid down, resting over my shoulder in a gesture that felt both casual and supportive. "Let's introduce you to the team."

I swallowed hard, nerves twisting in my stomach, and gave a small nod. Haru turned me toward the rows of desks, where employees were scattered, each focused on their tasks. Clearing his throat, Haru raised his voice.

"Attention, please."

The room fell quiet, and all eyes turned to us. I felt the weight of their stares, my palms growing clammy. Haru gestured toward me with confident ease.

"This person here will work with us from today on as my personal assistant. His name is Park Myung. Please make him feel welcome, and don't hesitate to guide him if needed."

Polite applause rippled through the room, accompanied by murmurs and fleeting glances. I could feel their eyes scanning me, assessing me from head to toe. Some seemed curious, others skeptical. Their silent judgment hung in the air, but I couldn't blame them. Nepotism, whether real or perceived, had a way of breeding resentment. If I were in their shoes, I'd probably feel the same—wondering how someone new, seemingly out of nowhere, landed such a coveted position.

I squared my shoulders, determined to prove that I belonged here, no matter how I got the job. I should do that for Haru's sake.

~

"What's wrong?"

I answered the call while seated at my desk, recognizing Haru's number immediately.

"Come inside for a moment," Haru said from the other end, his voice calm but insistent.

"Alright." I hung up, stood, and made my way into his office. As I stepped inside, I noticed him seated on the brown leather couch positioned on the right side of the room. Spread across the coffee table in front of him were an assortment of food containers, their inviting aroma filling the air.

I raised an eyebrow as I approached. "Is the food poisoned or something?"

Haru chuckled, patting the empty spot next to him. "Come eat with me."

"I'll eat later in the cafeteria after you're done," I said, staying rooted in place.

"Myung..." Haru's expression shifted to something more serious, his tone carrying a note of command. "Come and sit."

Letting out a sigh, I found my body moving on its own. Reluctantly, I plopped down beside him on the couch. "Acting bossy now, huh?" I muttered, grabbing a pair of unused chopsticks and picking up a sushi roll. I took a bite, savoring the fresh flavors.

Haru scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "You wouldn't listen otherwise, you stubborn kid."

"I need to watch the door," I replied after swallowing.

Haru frowned; his own chopsticks paused mid-air. "You're not a dog, Myung," he huffed, his tone softening slightly. "It's lunch hour. You're supposed to take a break, eat, and recharge. You're no use to anyone if you're running on empty."

His words hit me with a kind of gentle authority, and though I didn't respond immediately, I knew he was right. "Okay..." A single word came out of my mouth as I grabbed another sushi roll, feeling a small sense of warmth at the moment.

"So... how is it?" Haru asked, his tone infused with curiosity and a hint of excitement. He leaned back slightly, chopsticks hovering mid-air as his gaze fixed on me intently. "Working here, I mean..."

I nodded instinctively, my focus on the colorful assortment of food spread before us. "I think I can handle it," I replied, keeping my voice steady and neutral, not wanting to delve into the day's complexities.

Haru's lips curled into a faint smile as he studied me for a moment, the silence between us thick but not uncomfortable. "You think?" he teased lightly, his tone warm yet probing.

I shrugged, grabbing a piece of sushi with my chopsticks and avoiding his eyes. "It's been only four hours, Haru," I muttered, hoping to deflect his attention and move the conversation along.

A soft chuckle escaped him as he leaned forward, resting his arms casually on his knees. "Fair enough," he said, taking a sip of his drink. Though he said nothing more, I could feel it—the quiet concern lingering in his gaze, unspoken but palpable.

He was worried about me. Even without words, that much was clear.

I finally turned my head toward him, meeting his gaze directly. "I'm gonna be fine, just like you said," I murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

Haru's grin widened as he stared at me, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. Without hesitation, his free hand reached out, gently patting my head. "Yep," he said confidently, his tone light but reassuring. "Just keep your trust in me."

Trust is the most fragile thread one can hold onto in this world.

It's not an easy gift to give. Handing someone that invisible power—the ability to shape your emotions, to steer your choices—is a leap of faith that can tilt into danger without warning.

When you place trust in someone, it's as if you're suspended on a precipice, hanging by a single thread. That thread is held tightly in their grasp, and they alone determine your fate.

They could pull you to safety, proving themselves worthy of your belief. Or they could sever it, sending you plummeting into a void of heartbreak and despair.

It's the delicate gamble we all play, hoping that the thread won't snap, yet never truly knowing if it will hold.