Biggest Fan

“Two damn days, I can’t abandon this company for even a measly forty-eight hours!”

The shouts that came through the glass door with the plaque “Bae Joohyun – CEO” reached the lobby of that building of more than twenty floors.

Inside the office, the owner and president of the famous Irene Group looked visibly angry with her subordinates. She had spent a few days in France for an important fashion event and, upon returning to her job that morning, she found an unexpected budget discrepancy.

"If I left you alone for a week, you'd bankrupt this company, you bunch of useless idiots!"

The woman's loud voice was about to make the heads of the main departments cry.

“B-but, President Bae…” the finance officer began, pointing with trembling fingers at a page of the report. “According to projections, the shortfall will be recovered by January.”

“There are 8 months until January!” She slammed her palm on the desk. “What do you plan to do in the meantime, spend hours chatting at the coffee machine?”

The defeated man shrank in his seat, watching as she threw his report onto the office floor.

“And you!” she shouted, pointing at the head of accounting. “Does your wife know you spend your work hours flirting with the new interns?”

He just lowered his gaze, unable to articulate a response, too afraid to even try.

“If you don’t fix this within a week, you can consider yourselves fired!” She leaned back in the presidential chair. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, President Bae!” they answered in unison, leaving—or rather, escaping—from that hungry lioness's cage as quickly as possible.

You were waiting outside for your turn, and you were almost run over by the two men who were running away in a panic. They knew they had a countdown to complete or they would face Bae Joohyun's true fury.

And now it was your turn to deal with that beast that would tear the head off anyone who dared disturb her in that current state. You adjusted your tie, filled your lungs with air, and, with a courage you didn't know you had, you entered the office.

As you walked in, you saw her. She was sitting in her enormous presidential chair, which only emphasized the incredible difference between her small stature and the massive chair. If you glanced under the desk, you could see her feet dangling without touching the floor.

It was hard to believe that so much fury could fit into such a small body.

She lay turned to her right, gazing out the window with her eyes closed, her hands massaging both sides of her neck, trying to regain her composure. The current silence contrasted sharply with the storm of just moments before.

“President Bae.” You called in a firm voice.

She opened her eyes, still filled with rage, and turned the chair towards you with a brusque movement.

"What!?"

You instinctively closed one eye, like someone facing a powerful hurricane and fearing being swept away by the wind.

“Miss Karina has arrived,” you announced, trying to appear as calm as possible.

“So what the hell are you waiting for to let her in?” she retorted, muttering something else under her breath that you couldn’t quite make out.

“Right away, President. Excuse me.”

You gave a slight bow and left quickly. Just a few seconds later, you came back in, followed by the incredible Yoo Jimin, better known as Karina in the fashion world: the star model of the label Irene.

“Karina, my dear,” Irene greeted her. Her face changed completely. She got up from her chair, walked around the desk, and ran with short, quick steps until she reached her model to hug her.

“You need to calm down, unnie. It’s not good for your health,” the young girl commented, returning the gesture with a smile.

Meanwhile, you were already crouched down, picking up the various sheets of paper scattered across the carpet. You knew Irene needed her workspace to be spotless.

“How did you and Minjeong get on your honeymoon?” the older woman asked curiously about her other model.

“Bali is a stunning destination, truly. The beaches were paradise and it was such a…spiritual trip. Or that is what they say, because we were too busy to leave our hotel room.”

That unexpected confession hit you like a bombshell. The sound of the paper crumpling under your hand betrayed you, and letting them know that you could hear them perfectly. Both women turned their heads toward you, remembering that you were still in the room.

Your boss's eyes were once again like two icy daggers fixed on you. She was judging you.

“Why are you still here?” she asked rhetorically. “Get out.”

You stood up, somewhat embarrassed by the amused smile Karina was giving you, and bowed to both of them before leaving the office.

You exhaled with relief as you stepped out of that glass prison. You had survived, at least for the time being.

The truth was, being the personal assistant to someone like Irene wasn't a job for just anyone. But that's what your life had been like for the past five years since you joined this company.

You remember as if it were yesterday the moment you first walked through the metal doors of the lobby with your intern badge. The tough years of university had paid off, but you knew you couldn't relax; this was only the beginning of your professional career.

You quickly adapted to the role of the new guy in the office, taking on the tasks no one else wanted as part of the initiation rite: endless photocopies that included changing ink cartridges, emptying the wastebaskets in every cubicle on your floor, and reviewing, over and over again, endless columns of numbers for errors or anomalies. Oddly enough, this task was one of your favorites because, after all, that's what you were there for.

The first time you met President Bae in person was during the dreaded "Monthly Evaluation." It was a regular occurrence for the president to walk through every floor of the building once a month, observing, analyzing, and thoroughly evaluating the work of each employee, starting with the managers and ending with you, the lowest-level employees.

The atmosphere in your department turned icy, and the only sound was the echo of heels clicking on the floor. Not a single employee pretended to work, no one paused for a few seconds to stretch, and of course, no one looked up from their screen or dared to directly confront the boss.

It felt like a high school exam, and she was the strict teacher the whole class feared.

Unaware of this protocol, you continued with the task of photocopying the necessary documents for your colleagues, distributing them to their different workstations.

However, as you returned to your seat, you stopped dead in your tracks: someone had taken your seat.

Bae Joohyun.

You jumped when her eyes scanned you from head to toe. There she was, arms crossed, with such a serious expression that anyone else probably would have fainted on the spot.

“Your face doesn’t look familiar, who are you?” she asked, standing up and straightening to look you directly in the eyes. Her head barely reached the height of your chin.

The rest of the workers continued without taking their eyes off their screens, but their auditory glands were alert, ready for battle, as they silently said a prayer for the poor intern.

You began to stutter. Your words simply refused to leave your mouth. You had heard countless stories about the boss, told by your most senior colleagues. She was as respected as she was feared, and her mere presence commanded more respect than an entire army. But you never truly understood how much of it was real until you stood before her.

“He’s the new intern, President Bae.” Fortunately, her then-personal assistant intervened, coming to your defense. “The one we hired through the new agreement with the city council.”

“Oh,” she said, realizing what had happened, though her expression remained unchanged. “Welcome to the company. I hope you’re enjoying everything.”