Page 27 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
The BGM to Timira’s inner monologue is now playingPhir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani’s ‘I’m the Best’. She has a wicked glint in her eyes.
‘Yes, of course. I apologize for keeping you this long. Seongjae-ssi, please mentor Ms Marak and make sure she’s comfortable. Time is short, it’s best if we get to itppalli.’Haneul is hiding his smile with a lot of effort.
Koi hero yahan (ME),
Koi zero yahan (YOU)
Abhijeet Bhattacharya’s voice is unable to finish the line. Looking understandably annoyed at Haneul for having burst her beloved Bollywood bubble, Timira bows ever-so-slightly, and flashing a noticeably fake smile to no one in particular, turns to walk away.
Oh, that door! Right, I have to push. Huh, I won’t get fooled twice!
She confidently struts towards the door and pushes with all her might until Mr Choi intervenes and asks her to step aside. Pointing at a sign that reads ‘pull’, he gently opens the gateway to Timira’s great escape. Unable to meet his eye, she mutters her thanks and walks as swiftly as her new pair of I-mean-business heeled boots and accompanying shoe bites allow her.
She mostly limps.
Stupid boots! These are meant for neither walking nor running!
Mr Choi, gentle in manners as in appearance, turns to shut the door behind him. Haneul’s gaze is fixed on Timira. His expressions, though, aren’t particularly telling and Mr Choi is about to berate himself for his wild imagination when Haneul walks towards the glass wall, eyes still lingering on Timira’s receding figure. Smiling broadly, he runs his fingers through his hair and pats his chest twice before crumpling a piece of paper into a ball and deftly kicking it right into the trash can.
This surely can’t be. Daepyonim?! Is he really smilingthishard?Mr Choi is unable to hide his amazement at Haneul’s unusually bright countenance.
He recalls the time he spotted Timira’s visiting card on Haneul’s desk when they were recruiting for her position. He had spotted it a second time during a meeting where potential candidates were being discussed with the department heads. Haneul had been twirling it between his fingers as profiles werepresented and analysed. His curious gaze had followed Haneul as he softly put the card down and in a firm voice announced his plan of recruiting an international hire whom he had personally headhunted and who came highly recommended by a client. Like the rest of the office, he too was keen to find out more about this rank outsider whom Haneul had decided to hire. And just like them all, with a silent prayer to the gods of the Internet, he jumped on to Naver search. Sadly, though, all the sleuthing around had thrown up a bunch of reels that revealed only two things—she had two friends, a man and a woman who looked like they were a couple, and a singing voice, albeit drunken, that could put many a soloist out of work.
… the shoot in Bali, hiring Ms Marak . . could they both be connected? Or, is it just uyeon?Mr Choi wonders as he walks towards his part of the office. He flicks his gelled Nick Carter bangs back and, despite the warning signs, decides it’s still too early to launch an investigation.
* * *
Elsewhere, Timira is frantically looking for her hemp cigarettes when she hears a knock on the door to her cabin.
‘Excuse me, Ms Marak?’
It’s sweetly accented English in a kind female voice.
‘Yes?’ Timira answers half-heartedly without bothering to look at the visitor.
‘Wow, looks like a storm passed by. Are you looking for something? Can I help?’ she asks gently.
‘Yeah, it’s a mess. I know. But, thanks for informing me.’
Hang on. I’m having a conversation in English?! Who am I even speaking with?! Who aside from Mr Choi here knows English?
Curious, Timira looks up to find that the owner of the gentle voice is a young woman. Possibly still in her early twenties. Porcelain skin, bright monolid eyes made to pop with a light stroke of turquoise eyeliner, delicately drawnaegyosal, a neatly tied ponytail with loose bangs perfectly framing a small face housing a bunch of sharp features.
‘Wow, you’re gorgeous!’
Timira is shocked to hear her own voice.
Why did I say it out loud? Argh, not again!
Taken aback, the visitor smiles nervously.
‘Gamsahamnida! Sorry, I mean, thank you,’ she stammers before continuing. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? They said I should help with whatever you need.’
Timira is still looking for her cigarettes.
‘Fine. Get me my cigarettes!’
‘Cigarettes?!’
