"Hi, So-yeon," Alex said, his voice easy and familiar, speaking in that melodic, respectful Korean he usually reserved for elders. "It's Alex. I was wondering if I could bring a friend to your gallery tonight. She's a huge fan… your number one fan, actually."
Hana couldn't hear the artist's words, but she saw Alex's face light up. He listened for a moment, laughing softly. "Yes, I very much so do. Yes, I think she does too." Alex smiled as he listened and gave a look toward Hana, "It's complicated." Alex switched his gaze away from Hana, nodding as he listened to the wise women on the phone, "Yes, I understand." Again, switching his gaze to Hana, "Definately." He let out a little acknowledging smirk. "Okay, we'll see you then. Thank you."
Alex hung up the phone, a broad, triumphant smile on his face. He looked at Hana, his eyes full of warmth. "All set. She says she'll kill me if I don't bring you. Her number one fan." Alex paused for a few seconds. "I'm going back to my desk now to actually do some work. Just let me know."
He turned and walked away, his long strides carrying him back toward the bustling office, leaving Hana standing in the quiet, sterile meeting room. Her mind was a complete blank; her body felt strangely light. She was no longer just a Senior Specialist. She was a woman who had just been invited into a dream by a man who seemed to be made of them.
Kiyo saw the way Alex's mouth was curved into a soft, private smile as he left the meeting room. It wasn't a goofy grin of triumph, but a quiet, almost humorous look of contentment. He gave her a brief nod as they passed in the hallway, and Kiyo's instincts told her that whatever had just happened in that room was far more interesting than she had anticipated. She pushed the glass door open and stepped inside.
Hana was still standing in the exact same spot where Alex had left her, her hands still clenched, a look of complete bewilderment on her face. It was the kind of expression a person gets when they've just been shown a magic trick they can't possibly explain.
"Well?" Kiyo asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern. "What's going on? What did he say?"
Hana's eyes slowly focused on Kiyo. "He confessed to me," she said, the words coming out in a flat, disbelieving monotone. "He said he likes me, but that he's okay if I don't feel the same way."
Kiyo's eyes rolled in a slow, dramatic arc. "Obviously he likes you," she said, gesturing vaguely with one hand. "Everyone knows that."
"뭐(Mwo)?!" Hana's voice was a sudden, loud eruption in the quiet room. "What?!"
"Oh my God," Kiyo said, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Hana, you're the only person in this entire office who hasn't noticed. He's been smitten with you for weeks. We've taken bets in the break room as to how long it would take for him to actually confess to you… and more importantly, what grand gesture it would take for you to finally notice." She paused, a sly grin spreading across her face. "And there are also bets as to how you'd eventually crush his heart."
The revelation hit Hana with the force of a physical blow. She couldn't believe it. All the subtle gestures, the small kindnesses, the friendly but slightly too intense conversations, it wasn't just in her head. It was real, and everyone had known about it but her. She stood there, mouth slightly agape, processing the sheer humiliation of her own obliviousness.
Kiyo, seeing that she was close to an emotional meltdown for some reason, quickly steered the conversation back to business. "Okay, okay, save the existential crisis for later. What was the reason he was there last night? Did he just happen to be in the right place at the right time?"
Hana, still reeling from the confession, recounted Alex's story about the artist from Jeju Island. She explained the bizarre, seemingly fated chain of events that led him to that street corner. Then, she mentioned the invitation to the exclusive art showing.
Kiyo took a step back, her mouth forming a silent "whoa." The mischievous glint in her eye returned, stronger this time. "Lim So-yeon? Your favorite artist? The one you've been obsessing over since college?" She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Hana, there's no way you're missing this. The most famous artist in Korea, an exclusive opening showing. No way. This is too good to be true. You're going to say yes, right?"
Hana looked at her, her face a mask of conflict. "I don't know, Kiyo. This is all too much. He says it's not a date, but... what if it is? What if it's more complicated and he expects more from it?"
"Who cares?" Kiyo said, shrugging her shoulders. "It's an art gallery, not a wedding chapel. He told you how he feels, and he accepted your boundaries before you even had a chance to set them. He wants to take his friend to meet her favorite artist. That's it. It's an easy, low-stakes situation. Besides," Kiyo leaned in, a sly smile on her face, "it'll be a great opportunity to make the other people in the office lose their bets. So…Let's go and get you a new outfit. Then you can tell Alex yes."
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of spreadsheets, marketing reports, and meeting notes, with the weight of Alex's confession and the surreal invitation hanging over Hana's head. By the time lunch arrived, Kiyo was on a mission. Hana was still in a daze, her mind replaying every word Alex had said, but Kiyo simply took her by the elbow and began walking.
"I'm starving," Kiyo announced cheerfully. "I want to go to that new Italian eats and treats place down the street. I've heard they have the best pesto pasta."
Hana, too distracted to argue, simply followed along. The cool Seoul air felt refreshing, but her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She was so focused on her own turmoil that she barely registered on their route until Kiyo stopped abruptly in front of a boutique with a chic, minimalist window display. It was the kind of place Hana would normally walk right by, but today Kiyo stood there with a determined glint in her eyes.
"Let's stop in here first," Kiyo said, pulling Hana toward the door.
Hana let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Kiyo, I'm hungry. And this seems entirely unnecessary."
Kiyo gave her a look that said she wasn't falling for the act. "Hana, you're not going to meet your idol, Lim So-yeon, in the same clothes you use to write marketing reports. You need to look your best."
Hana "faked" one last moment of reluctance, a half-hearted attempt to maintain her dignity, before she relented and followed Kiyo inside.
The store was quiet and smelled faintly of lilac and new fabric. Racks of clothing were organized by color and texture, each piece a work of art in itself. Kiyo, acting as an impromptu stylist, immediately began pulling things off the hangers.
"Okay, first option," Kiyo said, handing Hana a stiff-looking blazer and a pair of trousers. "I'm a powerful businesswoman who is only here to close a deal and crush her enemies' look."
Hana reluctantly tried it on. The fit was good, but she felt constricted and formal. She looked in the mirror, and the reflection stared back with an air of unapproachability. She emerged from the dressing room and Kiyo took one look, then shook her head.
"Nope. Too stiff. You'll look like you're here to audit her paintings. Next!"
Kiyo went back to the racks and pulled out a soft, oversized sweater and a pair of faded jeans. "Option two," she said, tossing them to Hana. "The 'I just rolled out of bed and accidentally stumbled into a high-end art gallery' look."
Hana put on the clothes and felt an immediate sense of ease, but when she looked in the mirror, she knew Kiyo was right. The outfit was comfortable, but it lacked any sense of occasion.
"I look like I'm heading to a coffee shop to study," Hana said, and Kiyo gave her an agreeing nod.
"Exactly. It's not the right vibe. We need something that says 'I'm a sophisticated, passionate art lover, but I'm also really fun to be around.' Something that says, 'I look this good without even trying.'" Kiyo said, rummaging through a different section. "Or maybe...Okay, last chance."
She emerged triumphantly with a dress. It was a beautiful, flowing piece of fabric in a deep, sapphire blue. It had a simple, elegant silhouette that cinched at the waist and flowed to just below the knee. The neckline was a soft V-shape, and the sleeves were loose and delicate. It was the kind of dress that looked effortlessly chic.
Hana took it into the dressing room and put it on. It felt like a different world from the other two outfits. The fabric was light and moved with her as she walked. When she looked in the mirror, she actually smiled. The color made her skin look radiant, and the cut was both flattering and comfortable. It wasn't overly formal, but it was far from casual. It was perfect.
She stepped out of the dressing room, and Kiyo's eyes widened. "That's it," she said, a wide, genuine smile on her face. "You look stunning."
Hana looked at herself in the three-way mirror, a sense of quiet confidence settling over her. This was the dress. This was the one. She was going to say yes.
Hana and Kiyo returned to the office, a large shopping bag swinging between them like a trophy. Their earlier hunger was completely forgotten, replaced by a sense of victory and anticipation. They walked past the break room where the bets had been placed, Hana feeling a strange mix of triumph and mild mortification. She clutched the bag a little tighter, the thought of the sapphire dress inside giving her a new kind of courage.
As they approached their desks, Hana saw Alex speaking with another colleague near the elevator. She took a deep breath, handed the shopping bag to Kiyo, and walked directly toward him. Kiyo gave her a silent thumbs-up and a knowing smirk before heading back to her cubicle.
"Alex," Hana said, her voice a little steadier than she expected.
He turned, his face lighting up with a genuine smile. "Hana. Back from lunch? You look like you're in a good mood."
"I am," she replied, and her smile was real this time. "I just wanted to thank you again for last night, and... I'd love to go to the gallery opening with you. As friends and colleagues, of course," she added, her eyes twinkling.
"I'm glad to take you," Alex said warmly, his smile widening. "I hope you'll enjoy yourself. It's a fantastic space."
He was about to turn back to his conversation when he seemed to remember something. He turned back, a slight look of concern on his face. "Oh, I just went and got my suit, since it's a bit more fancy tonight, being the opening night. I hope that's okay. I can go in my business clothes if you'd be more comfortable."
Hana's lips curved into a slow, mischievous smirk. "That's okay," she said, her voice laced with a playful hint of defiance. "I went out and picked something to wear myself."
Alex's eyes lit up even more. "Awesome!" he said. His relief was palpable, and his happiness was infectious. He didn't ask what she'd bought, nor did he pry into her sudden change of heart. He was simply pleased that she was coming.
Hana nodded and turned away, a little thrill running through her. She was going to an exclusive art show as her favorite artist's biggest fan, and she was going to do it in style. The dress felt like a secret weapon, a tangible symbol of her choice to step out of her comfort zone. She walked back to her desk with a confident stride, ready to finish the day and get ready for the evening.