Ding! We arrived at the parking lot. Ignoring him and just thinking of a way to get to the publishing house quicker, I ran to my car as fast as I could and positioned myself in my seat, placing my things at the back. I turned on the ignition to start the car, but I felt that my car didn’t smoothly move when I tried driving already. It felt like there was too much friction on the ground, which made it hard to move.

“No, no. What’s the problem?” I hissed.

I got out of my car with annoyance on my face, and a flat tire greeted me.

“Great! Now what?” I fumed and kicked the tire of my car with my right foot, which kind of hurt, by the way.

“Ouch, ouch!” I held my foot for a while and bent my body a little so that I could check at the tire more closely.

“Really great! Just when you are hurrying.”

I was about to call the car mechanic, but a car stopped in front of me.

“Everything okay, Miss Fore—oops.” It was ‘the’ man again. Just how many times did I see him today? “I mean, whatever is happening?” he asked.

“Flat tire,” I told him, still annoyed.

“Need a ride, then?” he asked and nodded his head in a relaxed way. You know, like one of those famous college students in angst films or books, especially those of movies released in the ‘80s to ‘90s? I stared at him for a few seconds until—

“Are you just gonna look at me?”

“Huh?” I shivered and came back to reality.

“No, I’m okay. I’ll just call the mechanic,” I reasoned.

“You sure?” He smiled and looked at his wristwatch.

I quickly took my bag from my car and sat on the man’s shotgun seat of his car. I looked at my wristwatch as well, and it’s already 15 minutes past eight. If I don’t leave now, Ms. Becky will arrive first. I got no choice.

“Thanks,” I said with irritation about what just happened.

“Are you still mad at me? I stopped calling you Ms. Forehead—oops.”

He stopped talking when he realized what he had just called me again.

“Thank you again. For the shirt, cardigan, and this, uhm, ride,” I reckoned.

“No problem,” he said and suddenly leaned towards me, so close that our faces were just a few inches away from each other. He looked at me for a few seconds. “Seat belt,” he whispered.

“Ah, right! I forgot,” I awkwardly responded.

The man then started driving. “Where do I take you?” he asked and smiled at me. I noticed that he’s smiling most of the time I’ve seen him. But why was he in a bad mood yesterday?

Ah, never mind.

“Paper Chase,” I answered.

“The publishing house at Mapo-gu? Woah, that’s amazing.”

He sounded so excited, which was quite shocking for me.

“Yes.” I looked at him curiously. “How did you know Paper Chase is a publishing house?”

“Well, I have a good friend working there,” he remarked, his eyes still focused on the roads. My eyes opened widely.

“Really? What’s the name?”

“Roy.”

“Roy? The graphic artist?” I wasn’t sure which Roy the man was referring to because there were three ‘Roys’ in the publishing house, if I’m not mistaken. Quite funny, though.

“Yep. But he doesn’t work full-time there. He works freelance in other entertainments too, designing various music albums. And he has his own designing company too,” he explained in detail.

“Ah, I see. That’s why your friend isn’t always around.” I looked out the road outside. “You? How about you? Why are you all dressed up too? What do you do?” I continuously asked him like an interview, my back facing him.

“Me?” he asked just when I looked at him again.

The first thing that I noticed about him was his hair. It’s close to a mullet style and is quite reddish. Wait, it’s more like a very dark ginger-coloured style, I think. He’s wearing a lovely beige collared shirt like the colour of my shirt, dark blue straight denim pants, and white shoes. He seems to be wearing a small amount of powder and lip tint. He smelled nice, by the way.

“Why? Are you interested in me? Are we in the getting-to-know-you each other already?” He asked with a bit of laughter.

“Interested? You are very assuming, Mister,” I scoffed.

“Well, just like you, I’m going to work.”

“So you’re going to be late as well?”

“Nah, it’s quite alright.”

As I was about to ask another question, my phone rang again. Ms. Rose’s name appeared on my phone’s screen again. What is it this time?

“Ms. Brooke, no need to rush,” she said on the other line.

I was confused. “Wait, what do you mean? I’m telling you, Ms. Rose, I’m already on the way. Here, if you’d like to hear the wind rushing.” I slightly opened the car’s window to make Ms. Rose believe I was on my way already.

I saw the man giggle at what I did.

“Ms. Brooke, no need for that! Ah, this kid, really. Something urgent came up. Ms. Becky won’t be able to make it this morning.”

“What? Seriously?” My voice sounded frustrated.

“Yes, seriously. You may arrive at exactly 9:00 a.m. or you can also be late. I am allowing you to be late because of the inconvenience. Alright?” Ms. Rose hung up.

All the rush I made earlier, and now the meeting is cancelled. Perhaps, I should just come at 9:30 then. I’ll first visit the vintage library near the publishing house and check if they already have the copy I requested last time. I always see that library whenever I have free time or before I go home. Since I was young, I have had an excellent relationship with books, making me the person I am today. Thus, visiting libraries or bookstores is always on my schedule aside from my job.

“So, what’s the matter?” the man asked.

I sighed. “You can just drop me off at the nearest bus station. I’ll just take a bus ride from there. My client cancelled the meeting. Now, I was allowed to come at 9:30 so I can be late,” I responded.

He just looked at me and snorted.

“Weren’t able to wear your shoes properly, a flat tire, now—”

I stared at him, which made him stop talking.

“Did you have breakfast? Come with me. Let’s eat.” He offered sincerely.

“Yes. Don’t bother.” I sounded irritated because I really was.

There was silence for three seconds until a disturbing sound broke the silence—it was my stomach growling. Really?

“You sure?” he asked again and laughed like there was no tomorrow.