#wr3n

Han Sooyoung shrugs.  “Sure,” she says, talking around a lollipop in her mouth.  “For now.  Your actual mentor took an unexpected two week sabbatical, so you’re stuck with me.”

“...I see,” Yoo Sangah says.  She resolves to think positively about this.  People don’t boil down to their first impressions.  Just because she doesn’t find Han Sooyoung impressive right now doesn’t mean that Han Sooyoung wouldn’t be a great mentor.

So she’s disappointed to find out that Han Sooyoung actually isn’t a great mentor.

Part of the reason appears to be that Han Sooyoung isn’t even part of the HR department.  Yoo Sangah isn’t sure what Han Sooyoung actually does, but whatever it is, she’s high up enough to have her own office, and whenever Yoo Sangah visits, she seems to be busy doing... whatever she’s doing.  Too busy to check up on Yoo Sangah, or talk to her, or even look at her.  

That can’t really be true, no matter how much it feels like it. Han Sooyoung has to be paying at least some attention, because otherwise Yoo Sangah wouldn’t be getting any new assignments.  Yoo Sangah works through them, and Han Sooyoung assigns more, and that’s the entirety of their relationship.

Well.  No, actually.  Han Sooyoung also tells Yoo Sangah to get coffee.

Yoo Sangah tells herself this is fine.  This is normal.  Interns get coffee for their bosses all the time, like in all the dramas she’s watched. If she wonders what’s the point of her degree -- if she thinks, more than once, that this is beneath her – well, it’s not like it’s any different from how life is at home.

One morning, she wanders into Han Sooyoung’s office and finds that Han Sooyoung is not actually working.  Han Sooyoung is face-down on her keyboard.  There is an energy drink on the desk, half full.  It sits next to a pile of energy drinks, all empty.

Han Sooyoung looks a little pitiful like this. Yoo Sangah feels a little bad.  Then she remembers exactly how Han Sooyoung has been treating her this entire time and feels less bad.  Instead, she contemplates drawing a mustache on Han Sooyoung’s face.  There is a pen right there.

Tragically, Yoo Sangah is pretty sure there is also a security camera right there.

Resigned, Yoo Sangah decides to shift Han Sooyoung off the keyboard.  This has the benefit of stopping whatever document Han Sooyoung is working on from being endlessly filled with whatever characters her forehead felt the need to forever transcribe.  She wonders, briefly, if it’s worth it to clean up the hangul that Han Sooyoung definitely didn’t mean to type.

It’s not.  Still, Yoo Sangah gets a good look at the document.

Yoo Sangah had assumed it was some kind of business or PR strategy, but upon looking at the document for longer than a second, it’s clear that it’s absolutely not that.  The format is wrong.  There are dialogue boxes and everything.  This, Yoo Sangah realizes, is a story.

…sort of a graphic story, actually.  

It’s porn.  

This... has to be a workplace violation of some kind, surely.