Chapter 2: Serendipitous Encounters
The morning sun bathed Seoul in a soft golden glow, making the skyscrapers look almost gentle against the sharp blue sky.
Sherri stood on the sidewalk; staring up at the glass-fronted tower of SKY Entertainment like it was a mythical beast. Her reflection in the pristine glass looked composed—white blouse tucked in, hair neat, bag slung professionally over her shoulder—but inside, it was pure mayhem. Her brain was doing backflips, her stomach was either breakdancing or preparing for a full-on rebellion, and her heartbeat had forgotten how to follow a normal rhythm.
This was it.
She inhaled, whispered a very unprofessional “You got this” under her breath, and walked in.
The moment she entered the building, it felt like she’d stepped into a whirlwind.
People were moving at light speed. A man zipped past holding a rack of sequined jackets. A woman argued with someone on her phone about "emergency eyebrow threading." Someone else was carrying an entire tray of bubble tea cups like a waiter in a K-drama, weaving through the crowd with terrifying precision. Somewhere above her, bass-heavy music pulsed through the ceiling—clearly a practice room in full swing.
The lobby buzzed with energy, and Sherri, doing her best impression of someone who belonged there, made her way to the front desk.
“Hi! I’m—um—Sherri?” she said, voice too high. “New intern. Marketing department?”
The receptionist, thankfully unfazed by her nervous squeak, smiled brightly. “Welcome! HR is expecting you on the seventh floor. Elevator’s that way. Good luck—things get crazy up there!”
Sherri let out a breathy laugh that definitely came out weirder than intended. “Thanks.”
As she rode the elevator up, she tried not to stare at her reflection in the chrome doors, but failed. She looked like she was going to a job interview at Hogwarts—not one of Korea’s top entertainment companies.
When the doors opened, she was met by a petite woman with a sharp bob and a sharper suit.
“Sherri?” the woman asked briskly.
“Yes!”
“Ms. Park,” she said, offering a brief nod. “Marketing manager! You’ll be shadowing me.”
Ms. Park didn’t waste time. She led Sherri through a maze of desks, whiteboards cluttered with post-its, and half-eaten convenience store lunches. Everything smelled faintly like coffee and deadlines.
“We’re small but fast-moving,” Ms. Park said, not breaking stride. “We handle social media, fan events, product placements, tour promotions, you name it. And yes, you’ll occasionally meet the artists. No fan girling.”
“Understood,” Sherri said quickly, even though her entire soul was doing cartwheels at the thought.
“Good. Your first assignment: Slay Kids’ anniversary project. They're in the building for a shoot today. Go observe. Don’t disrupt. Take notes. Try not to trip over anything or anyone.”
“I—yes. Of course. Thank you,” Sherri managed, gripping the tablet Ms. Park handed her like it was a holy artifact.
---
One hour later, chaos had a new name: the Slay Kid’s photo shoot.
The studio was a war zone of hairspray, flashing lights, and yelled instructions. Photographers barked, stylists zoomed around adjusting cuffs and collars, someone was arguing about a missing earring, and a guy with a boom mic almost walked straight into a reflector.
And in the middle of it all stood Slay Kids.
Sherri hovered near the back, holding her notepad like a shield. She was supposed to be “observing,” but right now she was trying very hard not to spontaneously combust.
Hyunjin stood center frame, silver hair styled into artful chaos. He looked… well, unfair. His expression flipped between broody model and laughing chaos gremlin in seconds. He posed like it was second nature, then turned to tease the stylist about something, laughing so hard he bent over clutching his stomach.
YoungBok stood a few feet away, sipping from a juice pouch someone had clearly bribed him with. He looked every bit the golden retriever of the group—bright smile, loose limbs, happy to just exist and charm everyone in a five-meter radius.
Sherri made the mistake of looking directly at him as he laughed at something Hyunjin said. Her heart did a full somersault.
She quickly looked down at her notepad and wrote:
> Note to self: breathe.
The shoot went on. Sherri scribbled notes about color palettes and group dynamics, pretending she wasn’t sneaking glances every three seconds.
But of course, fate was not content to leave her alone.
"New face?"
She froze.
That voice. Warm. Playful. Just behind her.
She turned.
Hyunjin stood there, towel around his neck, skin glowing (probably sweat, she tried to convince herself, not fairy dust), smiling at her like they were old friends.
“Oh—yes!” she squeaked. “Sherri. Marketing intern. Hello!”
He tilted his head. “Intern? Cool. You looked like you were gonna pass out.”
Sherri coughed. “I was...focused.”
He laughed, which didn’t help.
Then, like the universe had decided to double down on the absurdity, YoungBok strolled over.
“Hyunjin, did you scare her?” he asked mock-stern. “She looks traumatized.”
“I didn’t even do anything!” Hyunjin said, offended.
“I’m fine,” Sherri said quickly. “Just...a little overwhelmed. This is all very... new.”
YoungBok grinned. “Yeah, that’s fair. First day in the circus, huh?”
“That’s one word for it,” she murmured.
YoungBok stuck out a hand. “YoungBok. Welcome to the madness.”
She shook it, half-expecting her brain to short-circuit. His hand was warm, his smile even warmer.
"We're not always this loud," Hyunjin added with a wink.
"That’s a lie and you know it," YoungBok said, bumping his shoulder.
Their banter was easy, natural, and somehow made everything feel a little less intimidating.
A staff member called out then, and both guys gave her little waves before jogging off.
Sherri stood there blinking, heart still recovering.
She had survived.
Barely.
But then again, this was just day one.
---
Later that afternoon, she sat in the break room trying to type up notes on her tablet, but her brain refused to cooperate.
Every few seconds, she’d remember Hyunjin’s laugh. Or the way YoungBok had said "Welcome to the madness." Or the fact that she had somehow managed not to faint in front of two people she had screamed over in her bedroom just months ago.
It felt like living in a fever dream. A chaotic, terrifying, amazing fever dream.
She took a deep breath and typed:
> Day 1 observations:
• Slay Kids: professional, high energy, constantly moving
• Team: efficient chaos
• Hyunjin: absolutely magnetic
• YoungBok: danger in a juice pouch
• Self: still alive. Somehow.
Then, without thinking, she added:
> Note: Do not develop crush. Repeat. Do. Not. Develop. Crush.
She sighed and leaned back in the chair.
The noise of the building buzzed around her—music, chatter, someone arguing about a photoshoot delay—but she was starting to settle into it.
This place was wild, intense, and yes, a little overwhelming.
But it was alive.
And somehow, it felt like it was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Sherri took another sip of her now-cold coffee, staring blankly at her notes. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but her thoughts had drifted far from marketing metrics and social media strategies.
The way Hyunjin had tilted his head when he spoke.
The light in YoungBok’s eyes when he smiled.
That effortless warmth. That insane chemistry. That… chaos.
She shut her tablet with a soft sigh and leaned her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her palms.
She was just an intern. A blip in their schedule. A temporary name on a long list of staff they’d meet and forget.
But something about today felt like a thread had been pulled. A small tug in a very big tapestry.
And she didn’t know where it was going yet—but she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted it to stop.
A faint buzz in her pocket pulled her back to reality. A message from Ms. Park.
>"Change of plans. You're assigned to the tour content team starting tomorrow. That means more time with the boys. Be ready."
Sherri blinked.
More time?
She exhaled a single word, almost a laugh.
“Great.”
She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or panic flooding her veins—but either way, it was starting.
And deep down, somewhere beneath the professionalism and the chaos and the corporate rules…
She knew her quiet, ordinary world had just cracked open.
And there was no going back...