@orbitcdâ | daniel & heejinÂ
  he was nearly frozen from the cold by the time he was let into the meet and greet area, flashing his press badge one last time to get past the last set of guards. A lower-level assistant led him to a set of comfortable chairs in an empty dressing room and told him to wait for his interview to arrive. He had twenty minutes, they said â no personal question. They were rules that Daniel was intimately familiar with since heâd taken his job. Anything personal might be construed as improper, and in a day and age where everyone was looking for a scandal, publicists and managers were hypercritical of everything being asked.
Not that he blamed them, but he wasnât there for dirt â all he wanted was an interview good enough that his editor would run it and the readers would enjoy it. Anything else? That wasnât his business.
Daniel had long since gotten over the nerves, didnât even blink now when Idols or actors or famous authors walked into a room. They were just people, like him, and that was exactly what he kept saying to himself when the door opened, and the subject of this weekâs interview walked through the door.
He was already on his feet, smiling politely, when Heejin made his way across the room. âThank you for agreeing to meet with me. Our readers have been asking for an interview with you for a while now.â There was nothing but truth in the statement; in staff meetings, their editor had spoken of emails, calls, and letters received and had ranked all the major personalities that their readers wanted to see in the magazine. It had just taken a while to get this particular one scheduled. âIâm Daniel. Daniel Lin.â His Korean was accented, obviously not native, but decent enough to be understood. âPlease. Come sit. I donât want to keep you any longer than necessary; I know youâre busy.â
