#writer sky

The peaceful sound of waves was like a background song while the gentle ocean breeze combed through your hair. Taking another sip of your marguerita you took your eyes off the sunset and looked the man by your side.

Park Jinyoung, young awarded -and flawless- actor. His eyes smiled taking the adorable shape of crescent moons when he saw you looking. He had been smiling all along.

The scenery was perfect. A warm summer sunset by the beach with the love of your life. It didn’t matter that you probably did have sand on your scalp or that your hair, surely, was greasy from the salty air.

“Do you want another one baby?” Jinyoung asked.

“No, I’m good like this!” You replied sweetly.

“Are you sure? Isn’t there anything else I can do to make my precious Y/n, even more comfortable?” He asked sitting up from his resting chair and facing yours.

His hair was parted sideways and pushed back showing his forehead, his button down summery, orange, and blue shirt with tall palm trees, were unbuttoned letting his strong and defined chest in full view for your eyes. Skin sightly damp with a thin layer of sweat due to the hot summer weather and the gorgeous lighting of the setting sun giving him a gold glow.

A dammed drop of sweat ran down his chest towards his trunks, your eyes following and your mouth watering as you wished to run your tongue through the same path.

Jinyoung’s chuckle brings you back from your thoughts. “You know you don’t need to just imagine it; you can do whatever you want to me.”

This was paradise.

“Hm” you hum, sliding your sunglasses to the tip of your nose. “Maybe there is something you could.” You say sensually.

“And what would that be?”  He asks sitting on your resting chair and placing a warm palm on your bare tight.

Jinyoung leaned in and you sat up to shorten the distance, his hands tangling in your hair on the back of your head while you closed your eyes, you could feel his breath against your face.

“Ouch!” You screamed when he punched you in the gut. “What are you doing?”

You asked but he got up from his place and pushed you from the resting chair.

“Ouch!” You complained again when you landed.

Sitting up, you look around and you realize it had been just a dream. One with perfect Jinyoung, his dark hair and endearing smile on a tropical beach, like a fairytale.

Now you sit on the floor of your room with a red heel by your side. That hurt.

For a moment you wonder what makes you angrier? The fact that Sabrina, your best friend and roommate, fights judo while asleep or the fact she woke you up from the perfect dream where you were about to kiss the most perfect and only Park freaking Jinyoung.

Taking a deep breath, you look around and it’s still dark outside, you think about getting up and trying to make yourself comfortable in the armchair, -together with your clothes and some books. Pushing Sabrina’s shoe away you sigh thinking, you need a bigger apartment.

You both live with a certain level of luxury for two recent graduates. The studio is small, it doesn’t have enough space for all the clothes you both have and enough furniture, that’s why you have been sharing a standard couple bed with your sleep-judo-fighting-best-friend. Since moving together, you haven’t been able to have a full night of sleep without either been punched, kicked, slapped, or pushed out of the bed by said best friend.

Looking again at the armchair you waddle your way to it, trying to, at least, nap for a little longer. Sabrina hasn’t been the only thing keeping you from sleeping well. And you know it pretty well. You haven’t been able to sleep due to your anxiety. The feeling had been eating you in a way you never knew it was possible.

You managed to take a day off from your job at the hills gazette, the small local newspaper of a high class and traditional neighborhood in the city. You had been working there since your second year of university. You were hired as a part timer; your job was to do a little of everything and fill in holes. After graduating they gave you a full-time position, the pay wasn’t bad, -hence how you managed to share an apartment studio with Sabrina downtown. But you were tired of writing about the social events of the rich neighborhood, let’s be honest, talk about the weeding of a sub-celebrity in the golf-club wasn’t that exiting after you had done it over fifteen times in the course of six months without even been invited to do an event coverage.

Even though you tried your best, your job wasn’t exiting as a real newspaper or magazine editorial. Where the world was pulsing with energy and real news, interviews and facts that matter to people, that could change their lives, could build up opinions and change the world. That was the reason why you took applied for Just Facts.

One of the most acclaimed magazines of serious journalism there are still out there. Their journalism was serious without ever taking any sides and always doing its best to show the through to the public even if it meant be hated by big figures. The team is serious and dedicated. -the fact that Kim Namjoon is also the head editor of it.

You followed his career. You attended the same university as him, you knew the most import facts about him. -career wise obviously.

The man had a meteoric career. At nineteen, right after getting in university, he was the first one to write about and cover one of the biggest corruption scandals in the country. Obviously, luck seemed to be by his side, as he was at the right place at the right time. The head of the university basketball team tried to play a prank on him, asking a hot cheerleader to invite Namjoon out on a date and stand him up. Of course, the date was on small and dubious pizza place near the campus -the place was so dubious that after the scandal broke out the sanitary surveillance closed the place.

But Namjoon was on the journalism major and the moment he recognized the senator and a big oil CEO talking over bad-warmed-two-days-old pizza, he started to record it. The images were shaky and sometimes got blurred as the camera unfocused due to his moving. But still Namjoon managed to get part of the conversation where they talked about easing the restriction to oil extracting on a protected forest reserve. He also had recorded the Businessmen handing a suitcase full of money to the senator.

After that he landed himself a job at one of the biggest newspapers in the country. He followed the steps to success writing his way through until he reached at his current place as head editor of the famous Just Facts. He managed to bounce the magazine back from its bankruptcy. Now the magazine was back as the number one selling, online and off-line, news source.

That’s why your stomach did a backflip and your anxiety had been eating you out. Just last week they called you to invite you for an interview and added the detail that Kim Namjoon himself would be the one doing the interview.

Also, the reason that you decided to sleep early last night so you could rest and be prepared for your interview. But the truth is, you couldn’t get a shut eye before the clock was marking three in the morning, now it was just fifteen before seven. You still had a lot of time until your interview at ten.

You decided you would take a reinvigorating shower and make yourself a good breakfast, so you don’t pass out of nervousness during the interview. -god please help, this interview could be life changing for you.

Getting up from the armchair and taking light steps towards the bathroom you are just walking past the bed when Sabrina shifts and sprawls herself on the bed as a starfish, one of her legs coming out of the bed and kicking you on the knee.

You need a bigger apartment.

After a long shower, making coffee and a mug chocolate cake for yourself -you let a drop of the mixture drip in Sabrina’s white robe that you borrowed- and putting it to heat up in the microwave, you sat back down on the armchair with your journal writing down all possible questions Namjoon could ask you.

Job interviews are not fair, they have a resume of your abilities and achievements, they know the requirements for the job in details, but they only let you know a very generic over all description that sometimes doesn’t even say anything at all. It’s like going to the most important test in your life without knowing what the test is about and not studying anything.

“What time is it?” Sabrina asked when she woke up.

“Almost eight.” You say.

“Good, I only need to go in at ten today.” She said lazily hugging the pillow to go back to sleep. “Oh, my god! Today is your big day!” She jumped out of bed and stumbled on her red heel. “Ouch! We need to get rich fast so we can move to a bigger place.”

“I wouldn’t mind about it…” You replied, but not because you needed money to put gas on your old passed down car, but because you need a good night of sleep without needing to share a bed with her.

“I’ll take a shower to wake up and I talk to you in a minute.”

Getting up from your place you put the remaining cake mixture in another mug and sets it on the microwave. The energy flickers a little when she turns on the shower, so you just decide to unplug the coffee maker. The building is old and if there are too many electronics plugged at once it can bring the whole building down.

It happened before.

You walk in front of the wardrobe, there are clothes hanging from every single possible spot. Only one small wardrobe to fit every clothes you both have. Sitting down on the bed you start to think on what you gonna wear for the interview.

It needs to get the attention but not in wrong way, it needs to show you are professional, intelligent, hardworking, creative, and fun all at the same time. Actually, you only need a fairy godmother.

Sabrina walked out of the bathroom rolled up in the towel, her long blond hair tied in a bun at the top of her head. Her legs long and thin. She looks like spa barbie.

“I don’t have what to wear!” You said in a pout.

“Of course, you do! We just need to look through it! Move to the side.”

Both of you went through all your clothes, you ended up with a black dress just over the knees, a dark jean with a light shirt and your only black blazer.

“Now go and try them on!” She encourages you.

Starting with the dress you look yourself in the mirror, it’s a dress you love but for an interview it just seems to have a bit too much cleavage. Taking it off you put up the pants, the shirt, and the blazer.

“It looks great, I just think it looks a bit too dark you know?” You have to agree with her. Your hair being on the darker side, the look is a bit dark. “Here try this one!”

Sabrina hands you her baby pink blazer. She is tall, like model tall, even though you both wear similar sizes her cloths just tend to be long on you.

“It not gonna fit, I’ll look like a child in sweater paws.” You say feeling upset.

“No! Look, it’s summer you can just fold the sleeves up to your mid arm and it’ll look fashion and professional at the same time.” Says folding the sleeve.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you like. You look put together, as someone who’s ready for the interview and knows what’s happening.

“I love it! You look confident and professional.” Sabrina compliments you, handing you the small silver earring hoops.

“Now I just need to think about the shoes.” You say putting on the earrings.

When you turn around Sabrina has a bag in her hands handing it to you with the biggest smile on her face.

“What is this?” You ask her confused.

“Open up!” She claps exited.

“Oh my god! It’s a Viviane Westwood?” You ask looking the contents of the box that was inside of the bag.

It not just any Viviane Westwood. Is the black Viviane Westwood with wings. The one you have been in love with for over three months but couldn’t afford due to your old car needing maintenance and eating away all your left-over money.

“I wanted to save it for your birthday, but I think you need the confidence bust today!” She claps again jumping on the spot.

“Sa! You shouldn’t!” You reprimand your best friend.

“Of course, I should have!” She says almost rubbing the silver bracelet with the sun pendant in her arm.

It was a gift you gave her on the day she had her first job interview at Hybe architecture, the place she started to work as an intern in her third year of university. But you are descendant of Romanies, you know where to buy handmade Jewry at a cheap price.

“Go on and try it, let’s have a look!”

You put the sandals on, and the look becomes perfect, looking all professional with the blazer and the sandals wings give the touch of creativity you need. You feel confident.

“You gonna be perfect!” She says taking the mug out of the microwave.

“But what if I say the wrong thing?” You ask nervously. “What if they ask me my best quality and my worst defect?”

“Your best quality, is that you make the best mug cake on earth!” She says taking a spoonful to her mouth and moaning. “It’s still warm! Your worst defect is that you can’t take a compliment even if your life depends on it.”

You take a deep breath when you get off the bus. You stop at the sidewalk out of the way of the passerby’s -you didn’t have money to put gas on your car, let alone pay for parking. Looking up at the building your dream job sits just behind one of those reflective windows.

Exhaling loudly to expel the stress, Sabrina said it was a good thing to do, you fix the blazer and your hair, looking at your reflection on the window of a shop. You cross the street and walks into the building.

Letting the receptionist know your name you wait him to call up Just Facts. Giving you a visitor badge, he lets you in.

You walk into the elevator shaking your hands as nervousness take over your body. Oh my god, this is really happening.

Reaching the eighth floor the elevators doors opened and there it is. The front desk and the logo of Just Facts. You frown as you don’t see the front desk lady. Maybe she went to the bathroom.

Taking careful steps, you walk towards the large archway that led to the very spacious and full, of working stations.

The place looks just like you imagined. The furniture was a little older that what you imagined, and the computers looked a bit outdated too. There was no one screaming about anything, but besides that it looks exactly just like you pictured.

Everybody is busy and moving around doing what they need to do to get their work done. Nobody seems to notice you, until a girl with a fairy like face looks up at you and smiles.

“Hi, I’m y/l/n, y/n. I have an interview with Mr. Kim.” You say to her.

“Right, his office is that one!” She points to a glass office in the corner of the room. Even though the walls are made of glass the blinds are shut down not letting you see the inside of the room. “Come with me, I’ll take you there. I’m Julia by the way!”

“Thank you!” You say following her and trying to not look as a five-year-old who’s visiting Disney world for the first time -even though you feel like it.

Forcing your eyes to look ahead you see the name engraved on the door.

  Kim Namjoon - Head editor

  Julia knocked on the door and pushed it open just enough to let her head in. “Namjoon, there is someone here for you.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s for an interview, I think is…”

“Oh, right, please let her in!”

Taking a step back Julia smiles at you. “You’ll going to do great, relax!”

She walks back to her table, and you take a deep breath preparing mentally and trying too not faint. Quietly you open the door and walks in the room. There he is the man you followed and admirer the career for a really long time.

He sits behind a really long table with an expressionless face. He stands up to greet you what surprises you. He is tall.

Extremely so.

His head almost reaches the tall shelves with many displayed airplanes toy models. And he is handsome. You’ve seen him in some photos before and found him good looking. But right now, you knew his photos didn’t do him any justice. Eyes sharp and jaw strong, probably it made him win many arguments. His glasses weren’t the best, but somehow, they complemented his looks in a matching way.

Actually, you thought a man in his position to wear something flashier and more fashionable not just a pale blue shirt with a red tie.

“Good morning Mr. Kim, I’m Y/l/n, Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You offered your hand in a greeting.

He took it and you shook it not softly, not too hard, trying to show you weren’t lacking nor uncontrollable.

“You can call me Namjoon.” He took a sit and signaled the chair in front of him.

Taking the invitation, you sit down and hangs your bag on the arm of the chair, but it seems like it it’s not as steady as it looks, and your bag falls to the ground. Picking it up you decide to sit it on your knees, when you do as soon as your hands leave the bag, it falls back to the ground. Thinking this is just your luck, you hope Namjoon is too busy sitting back on his chair to notices these incidents.

As if you had any luck.

One thick eyebrow raises from behind the thick, ugly frames. You take the bag and holds it tightly to your lap.

“Okay, miss…”

“Y/n.” You say helping him as he looks through many papers over his table.

“Did you bring your printed resume?” He asks putting some papers away.

“Yes, I did.” You reply taking the folded paper from your bag.

You had sent it by email, but you knew sometimes the employer couldn’t remember who was and thought it better for the candidate to bring his own printed. With shaky hands you take it from your bag and stands up leaning in his direction hand him the paper. Maybe because of your nervousness you miscalculation and bumps your arm on his pen cup.

The cup falls forwards letting pens, pencils, and high lighters roll all over the table, trying to collect the materials and fix your mistakes your bag falls back to the ground.

“I’m sorry!” You say in apology.

“Don’t worry.” He replies in a monotone voice, which you don’t know if it means he is angry or amused with your clumsiness. “Please take a sit.”

Leaving the resume over the scattered pens you sit back on the chair, hands shaking with anxiety, you remember Steve Jobs once said whenever he felt nervous on a job presentation, he liked to hold a paper clip. If the man whose name was the definition of working hard, felt nervous on working situations who waere you now?

Trying to calm your feels you try to hold on to something hard so you can anchor yourself. You take your phone and squeezes it in your hand. The cover comes off and you click it back into place while Namjoon finished picking up the pens. Then he quickly skimmed through your resume.

“Please tell me a bit about you.” He asked.

Oh no, there it goes!

“I recently graduated from…” you tell him the name of the university and he looks up surprised.

“Oh! I also graduated from there!” He speaks.

“I know, everyone there talks a lot about you.” You said excited and by the way his forehead creased you decided to keep to yourself the bit where you think he is the journalism god in between humans. “My dream has always been to work on a big magazine.”

You add not saying that this is your dream job at the dream magazine.

“What are your short terms goals?” He asked taking a pen.

“Well, I would like to start a job at a big magazine or newspaper where I can show my potential and learn more about the daily routine of the editorial.” You say sincerely.

“And what about long-term goals?”

“To stablish myself as a renowned credible journalist, have a decent salary and have a magazine section for myself. Basically, to be like you someday.”

Namjoon fought back a smile. “To be like me?” He raised a brow once again. “And how do you do with pressure? Because that’s what I deal with every single day.”

“Being honest Mr. Kim, I haven’t had the opportunity to work under pressure, right now I work in a gazette of a rich people neighborhood. All I do is write about the events of the society and do some adds for the local business. I’m ready for some real action.

"Are you sure about it?”

You nod. “Absolutely. That’s why I think I’m a perfect candidate for this job, I’m striving to show what I’m capable of, I have the advantage of not having work vices and I’m also a fast learner.”

“Good you just replied to my next question, so, you think you can add to the magazine?”

“Of course, I do. I don’t know in what position you may want me, but I believe even a great magazine like Just Facts can be improved. And I’ll do my best to improve it I’m very hard-working Mr.…”

The phone you were rotating in your hands escapes it, falling on your feet.

You shallow a curse when Namjoon’s eyes follow the fall and stop at your sandals, he looks at it curiously. -Damn he was supposed to look at it creatively and not curiously. Now he’ll just think you are childish.

You pick you phone up.

“And what is your biggest quality?”

In the haste of trying to put your phone away in your bag to not drop it again, you end up dropping your bag.

You decide to leave it there, is safer.

He looks at your heated up cheeks with a question in his eyes. -oh, yeah, the question.

“Well, I think it’s my easiness to transfer my feeling onto the paper, besides the easy flow of words and language. I made a report on the gazette about the golf club and got many complements about it, I brought a copy if you want to have a look at.” Taking the paper with the report from your bag on the floor you hand it to him trying to keep your arms away from his pen cup.

Namjoon takes the paper giving it a quick look, Turing the pen slowly in between his fingers he looks at you again. “Why did you choose journalism?”

“Because I believe I can change the world with my writing and delivering knowledge though it. Or maybe change only one person’s world would be enough if my writing can change the way they think and see the world. I think in the end I want what everybody else wants too, to make a difference.”

“And do you believe you can change the world with only so many words?” He asks with a look you can’t really decipher.

“Knowledge is a tool, and just like any other tool, it’s impact in in the hands of the user.”

This time he smiled, a real smile, so big and so broad that dimples showed up in his cheeks.

Kim Namjoon is a really really handsome man.

“I think this is the first time I hear someone quote Dan Brown in an interview.” He comments.

“It’s a shame because he is awesome. I also think Robert Langdon would have been a great reporter, but he surely would have made many enemies.”

You are not sure if he even heard you, as Namjoon sits there staring at you face looking like he is trying to decipher something.

Suddenly as if waking up his eyes focus again your and he asks you. “And what are the points you still need to develop?”

“Oh! Obviously, my ability to hold something without dropping it.” He didn’t laugh, not even a hint of a smile. “Hm, my lack of experience that I’m hoping to fix it very quickly.”

Nodding slowly, he scribbled something on the resume. “What do you think is important in a company?”

Your ear started to itch uncontrollably. You are having an allergic reaction to the earring.

“Ah, professionalism, seriousness, a friendly environment, and commitment. This are the most important points to me.”

Carefully setting your elbow on the chair arm you touch your ear and find some angry blisters forming there. The itch-ness reaches a new level. You need to take your earrings off.

“Do you think…” the phone on the table rings loudly interrupting him. “Kim Namjoon! Oh! Mr. Veiga, how are you?”

He says on the phone and lifts a finger asking you for a moment. you take this opportunity to unhook the earring from its place on your ear. The ring rolls down your palm and kicks on the floor rolling until it stops by Namjoon’s feet.

While he is on the phone you think about stretching your leg and trying to catch it with your feet, but with your luck you may as well fall from the chair, if not fall with it.

As the phone call stretched itself you start to think back on the interview, even though you did well answering his questions Namjoon was a VIP spectator to your clumsiness, the anxiety of the thought makes you drum your finger on the back of your phone, which slides and ends up in between your tights.

The moment catches Namjoon’s eyes, and he turns his chair around. Good, now he can’t even look at you. Time to face the facts, you’re not getting a permanent badge for Just Facts, if you were in his shoes, you also wouldn’t want to hire you.

“Okay, we talk later. Thanks, bye.”  He hung up the phone and turned back to you. “Sorry, it was the magazine owner, I was waiting for his call. Where were we?”

Moving his feet, he probably kicked the earring, the jewelry rolls through the wooden floor hitting a vase of plant in the other side of the room catching his attention.

Getting up from his place Namjoon takes the small hoop in his hand and looks at you. “I believe this is yours.”

He deposits the ring in your hand. “Geez! I didn’t even realize it came off. Thanks!”

Your hand shook so much from your nerves that it was clear he could see through your lie and that made your face heat up. You couldn’t look up to his face, so you stopped at his chest.

Is that an iron man in his tie?

“Sure!” He whispers. “Now I would ask how you deal when things don’t go as you intended but I already witnessed it.”

Shit!

“Well, I guess we are done.”

“Sure. Thank you for your time, Mr. Kim.”

“Namjoon” he corrected.

“Right, Namjoon.” You corrected.

“I’ll call when I have a decision.”

Hanging the bag on your shoulder you close your eyes when it hits the pen cup and the plic-plic-plic of them hitting the floor.

“Hey-!” He called miss calling your name.

You sigh silently and turns around. What is the use of correcting him now anyway? “Yes?”

“I think I forgot to ask you one thing” his eyes are warm now. “Two questions actually. What is your biggest quality and your worst flaw?”

“Well, I’m a good observer, I work well with other people and I’m obstinate, to the point I can go above and beyond any limits to get what I really want. I also hate making mistakes.” You shrug your shoulders. “I think this is also my biggest flaw, when I make mistakes, I get nervous and clumsy, like you and your pent cup already know.”

A shadow of a smile curves his lips, and he nods. Leaving the office, you make your way to the exit.

“Nice shoes!”

You hear when you pass the table of Min Yoongi. The political editor and reporter of the magazine. Someone who clearly understand creativity.

If you had been interviewed by him, you wouldn't have been so nervous. But no, you had to be interviewed by Kim Namjoon, the journalist you looked up to and so you made a fool of yourself I front of him.

Ruined you first and only chance to impress him.

You’ll need lots of alcohol to forget about this day, you think as you exit the building and takes away the memory of ever being in it.

Back to the studio you spent the rest of the day cleaning it, you even watched a rom com thinking that maybe it would cheer you up seeing someone else making silly mistakes, but it didn’t.

You were just about finishing up getting ready to go out, even if you didn’t feel like doing it, when your phone vibrated with a message, it was from your boyfriend Jimin.

Jimin: sorry princess, something came up I can’t go out tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Texting a quick okay, you broke down, that was the last straw. When Sabrina walked through the door her happy face fell when she saw yours. Dropping her things to the floor she hurried up to hug you and rock you both from side to side.

You told her all the details about your interview, the lack of response from Namjoon and how you made a big fool of yourself.

“We need to celebrate!” She stated at the end.

“Celebrate? What? My failure?” You asked dejected.

“Yes! Your failure! If we don’t fail, how can we truly enjoy our achievements?” She asked with a smile.

“Yeah, I understand the idea, but Sa, you just forgot that we are both broke!” You remember her.

“No, we aren’t! Because I have this!” She shows you her meal ticket card. “thanks to the meals you packed for me and the sandwiches I was able to save some of it. And there is a pretty nice bar close by that accepts it!”

The bar is fairly close by, what allows you to walk there, and is crowded when you walk in. You both make your way to the bar, where all men seem to be reunited as a blond girl stands in the bar dancing sensually.

“How are things with Jimin?” Sabrina asks when you both managed to find a spot.

“They are good I think.” You reply waiting a bartender to come. “We were going out tonight, but he texted me saying he couldn’t make it. I didn’t bother to ask why, but we are going out tomorrow and I’ll ask him.”

“Oh” she says smile flattering a bit. “So, what do you want to drink?”

“Can it be one of those?” You ask pointing to the drink in a guy’s hand. It has one of those paper umbrellas in it.

“It can be whatever you’d like! I guess you didn’t understand yet, we’re only going home when you are in the same state as that girl!” She nods her head towards the blonde dancing at the bar.

You don’t think she has enough money on the ticket for either of you to get on that state but what matters of the intention and the feeling.

Sabrina turns back to you after a couple of minutes with the drinks and you both walked away from the bar.

“To failure!” She proposed raising her vodka.

“To failure!” You cheered clicking your cup with hers.

The next morning you woke up with a killer hangover, feeling like a truck had run you over. Almost crawling into the bathroom, you took a warm shower trying to get rid of your body soreness.

Sabrina was no better, she looked like a zombie while she put on makeup to go to work. Even after all her efforts she still looked sleepy or maybe sick. That was the moment you felt grateful to work on a small neighborhood gazette. You didn’t meet up with more than two or three people during your whole week and there was no need of makeup or looking presentable.

Coming back home was like a dream come true. The moment you passed through the door you dropped your bag and let your body fall to the bed besides Sabrina.

“I think I’ll never drink again!” You moaned.

“I swear, me too! It’s not worthy to go through all of it. My head is exploding!”

“What do we have for dinner?” You asked.

“Hung over curing tea!” Sabrina moans closing her eyes. “Is your boyfriend showing up today?”

“Hm, I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him yet” you are interrupted by your phone ringing. “Hello?”

“Hi. Can I speak to Laura?” It was a man's voice.

“Laura?”

“Yes, can your please tell her is Kim Namjoon.”

“Y-yes, just a moment.” You sit up closing the receiver of the phone mouthing -it’s him- to Sabrina.

“Tell him, there is no way in hell I’m leaving the house tonight!” Dramatically she throws her hands in exasperation.

“Not Jimin! Kim Namjoon.” You stage whisper to her sill covering the phone. Sabrina jumped upright sitting straight. “He got my name wrong!”

“And what are you waiting? Talk to him! Don’t correct him, wait to do that once he hires you.”

“But what if he is calling me to let me know he hired someone else?”

“If it is, you say thank you and hang up.” She says massaging your shoulders. “But I don’t think it is! At Hybe, they usually send an email to turn people down. Go on and talk to him!”

You clean your throat and get back to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Laura?”

“Y-yes?” You choke and Sabrina gives you thumbs up.

“Well, after going through all the candidates, we believe you are the one who would better suit Just Facts.”

Your smile is so broad you can’t hide, and Sabrina punches the air in a silent scream of YES!

“Mr.…. I mean Namjoon, you won’t be disappointed! I’ll give my best, I promise!”

“I like your enthusiasm; you start on Monday if that is okay for you. The receptionist salary is…” the number he said made you speechless. It was three time the value you are making at the gazette.

Wait a minute!

Did he say receptionist?

“Receptionist” you ask. “I thought it was a reporter position.”

“No, not right away. Is that a problem?”

That is definitely not what you were waiting. Well, it was actually a job at Just Facts, but you thought it would be the job of your life.

Looking for another angle if you took the position, you’ll be making three times your actual income, what meant you could fix your car and put some gas on it, no more depending on the public transport.

“Of course, you also have all the benefits like all the other reports and employees,” Namjoon moved on. “Health insurance, meal ticket, dental care, and the rights by law. What do you think? Does it sound good?”

“Yes, yes it does! It sounds great!”

“Great! Can you come over tomorrow to sign the contract? I’ll put the pen cup on a safe place.”

Did he… just made a joke?

“Yeah, I think that’s the best option.” You thank he can’t see your face of embarrassment.

“Great. See you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow!” You hang up.

“Receptionist, Y/n?” Sabrina cries.

“Better a receptionist of one of the best magazines in the country, than a do-all at the gazette!” Maybe if you repeat this enough, you’ll believe in yourself. “And did you hear the salary? I’ll be able to fix the car.”

“Okay.” Sabrina did a weird dance. She had all the looks and personality, but she couldn’t dance to save her life. That's how you believe God is fair. “We need to go out to celebrate! But I’ll need to be with juice, or my liver will melt!”

“Deal!” You jump up grabbing your favorite dress to change into.

“Really, Y/n?” She asks.

“Really! I just have a feeling this will be a life changing opportunity!”

Author ‘s note: Some months ago, I read a rom com book about journalism and editorials and ever since have been wanting to make a Namjoon fic in this universe. So, for his birthday I decided to re-write a tale from the book.

I hope you enjoy it.

In Your Own Words - Serie Masterlist