The next day arrived like a punch in the face.
I dragged myself into the office, makeup half-done, hair looking like I'd been in a fight with my pillow and lost, and nerves dancing the cha-cha in my stomach. The moment I stepped in, the atmosphere shifted. You know that eerie silence before a horror movie jump scare? Yeah. That. Except this was real life, and the jump scare wore an expensive suit and soul-piercing cologne.
Enter: The Devil in Prada and Armani—Mr. Jeon Jaehyuk, CEO of HellCorp. Okay fine, not HellCorp, but it might as well be. Every time he walked in, employees became Olympic-level sprinters, dashing to their desks like their lives depended on it. Coffee cups trembled. Interns prayed. Plants died. Even the printer suddenly jammed out of fear.
I, like the devoted minion I am, followed him in silent dread as he did his morning "Rouncing"—our fancy term for Roaming + Pouncing, where he strutted around pretending to check productivity but was really just scanning for fear in people's eyes.
He didn't even look at me. No morning glare. No sarcasm. Not even the usual, "Did you get that thing I didn't ask for done?" I was... invisible?
Suspicious.
Still, I trailed behind him like a loyal duckling as he passed cubicles, occasionally tapping someone's shoulder just to say, "You call that a spreadsheet?" And when he reached the last aisle, I knew it was my cue. I cleared my throat and began the sacred ritual of reading out his schedule.
"Today's schedule, sir" I said as professionally as possible with a slightly trembling voice.
"10 a.m., board meeting with the finance department."
"11:30 a.m., meeting with the MinTech investors."
"1 p.m., lunch with Mr. Kang from Phoenix Logistics"
"4 p.m., internal review with HR"
Silence.
He didn't even blink.
No nod. No hmm. No eye roll.
Instead, he walked into his cabin like he was auditioning for a soap opera. I stood outside, stunned.
Was he mad? Did he know?!
My sins from the day before were flashing in my brain like a criminal montage. The lies. The reunion. The illegal amount of garlic bread I consumed. What if he found out I went to a party after pretending my grandma was sick?
Was I about to be fired?
Then came the ding.
The Bell.
He had rung the tiny, cursed bell on his desk, which meant: "Enter, peasant."
With my heart in my mouth, I opened the door and stepped in. He was sitting at his desk, flipping through files with the intensity of someone deciding whether to adopt a puppy or throw it into a volcano.
I hovered near the door like a criminal.
Should I confess?
Should I just drop to my knees and start sobbing?
Maybe I could pretend I was sleepwalking at the reunion?
Before I could open my mouth, he spoke.
"Do you have any reasons to defend yourself?"
I blinked.
"Huh?"
"Yesterday," he said coldly.
Oh god oh god oh god oh GOD.
He knew.
My soul detached from my body and hovered above us like a ghost ready to ascend. My mouth opened to plead for mercy—
"I-I'm sorry, sir, I didn't actually mean to—"
But then... I saw it.
The paper.
He slid it across the desk with all the drama of a villain in a Netflix K-drama.
My eyes locked onto the top of the paper.
Termination Notice.
No, no, no.
This was not how I was going out. Not like this. Not on a Thursday.
"Sir, please—" I began desperately.
He raised his hand like a traffic cop and I froze.
"You can't do this to me, Mr. Jeon!! You're firing me because I took half a day off?!"
His eyes narrowed. He spoke like a disappointed father in a drama:
"The problem is not that you took the day off, Miss Kim. It's that you lied."
"What do you expect me to do if you don't give me leave Mr Jeon?! Which company doesn't give emergency leave?!"
He tilted his head.
"Emergency?" he said, eyes flashing. "And you dare cut me off mid-sentence?"
Oh no. Oh, no. The audacity of my mouth.
"Mr. Jeon—"
But he picked up a remote.
Click.
Suddenly, the curtains whooshed closed by themselves. I nearly peed my pants.
Click.
A hidden screen descended from the ceiling like a Bond villain's evil lair entrance.
And then...
A PowerPoint presentation began.
"WHY MISS KIM SHOULD BE TERMINATED"
I stood frozen.
He pressed another button. The first slide was...
Photos of me at the reunion. Laughing. Posing. Holding a suspiciously large mojito. There was even a photo where I was giving the peace sign next to a banner that read "Reunion Bash 2025!!"
He pointed at the mojito.
"Hydration is important," he deadpanned. "But I prefer honesty."
Slide 2? CCTV footage from the restaurant lobby. Timestamped.
Slide 3? My CAR. PARKED RIGHT OUTSIDE.
Slide 4? A screenshot of my Instagram story captioned "Reunion vibes 🥂🫶" with my smiling face and "#blessed."
I stared, horrified.
How did he find out all this?! I thought Mr Jeon wasn't on instagram?!??
"Sir… you have Instagram?"
He looked me dead in the eyes.
"I have everything."
"You're a stalker!!"
"I'm a CEO keeping his eyes on his employees." He said nonchalantly.
"And the main witness... is me," he said, turning to me.
"I saw you there. With my own two eyes. While you were running away from me like you were participating in olympics."
He saw me!!
"Sir, please—"
Somewhere in the distance, a vulture screeched. Or maybe it was just my soul leaving my body again.
Suddenly, the lights shut off.
A spotlight appeared on Mr. Jeon. He stood up wearing a long dark coat.
Behind him, a throne.
He had transformed into the devil himself.
A crown appeared on his head. Flames flickered around him.
Suddenly, I was wearing a flowy white dress with angel wings.
I dropped to my knees, clutching my halo.
"ONE LAST CHANCE, MY LORD!!!"
He pointed at me like an executioner.
"You lied."
"I was weak!"
"You ran."
"You were scary!"
"You dishonored your grandma."
"She's fictional, but yes."
He turned, slowly, dramatically.
"You forgot... you're in MY kingdom."
Two faceless demons grabbed my arms and began dragging me toward the door.
NOOOOOOOO—