My Idol

Chapter 2

At reception, she was greeted by Soo-jin, bright and efficient behind the desk. “Ah, you’re here! We’ve been expecting you. Let me walk you down to Security — you’ll get your permanent access card sorted first.”

They made their way through winding corridors to the security office, where Mr. Park, the head of building operations, was waiting.

“Welcome aboard. Anything you need, just ask.” He walked her through the process: photo, fingerprint scan, lanyard printed, the sleek white-and-black key card that would open every door she needed. “All set,” he said, handing it over. “This will get you into your office, meeting rooms, and the general work areas. If you need additional access later, just let us know.”

“Gamsahamnida,” she said sincerely, tucking the card safely into her bag. “I really appreciate it. It’s already such a relief to be settled in properly.”

She thanked him again and stepped back out into the main lobby — and that was when she saw him.

Tall — strikingly so — broad-shouldered, lean and powerful beneath loose dark clothing, his hair pale blonde and falling in soft layers around his jaw. He was walking toward the building’s inner entrance, head slightly bowed, and his face was half-obscured by the security guard walking beside him — a broad-shouldered man in uniform, saying something as they went. She couldn’t see his features clearly, couldn’t make out his expression — but something in the way he moved, quiet and unhurried, drew her gaze completely. She found herself slowing, staring, unable to look away — as if some invisible thread tugged at her.

Then he was gone, swept through the doors and out of sight.

She blinked, shook her head sharply, and gave a quiet, self-amused huff. Jet lag, she told herself. Too many late nights, too many new faces. She straightened her lanyard, checked her watch, and turned toward the director’s office.

Faces blur, she reminded herself. They always do.

But she couldn’t quite shake the feeling — that this one wouldn’t.

She knocked gently on the heavy oak door, and a deep voice called out, “Deureooseyo.” Come in.

When she stepped inside, Director Choi Jae-hyun rose from behind his desk immediately — a broad, warm-faced man in a well-tailored blazer, his grey hair neatly combed, his smile genuine. He’d been her father’s university classmate, their friendship stretching back decades; he was one of the very few people here who knew exactly who walked through his door.

He held out both hands in welcome. “Ryu Hyejin-ah,” he said, using her Korean name like an embrace — warm, familiar, no formality between them. “It is so wonderful to finally see you in Busan. You look just like your mother — same bright eyes, same spirit.”

She bowed properly, then took his hands, her own smile soft and genuine. “Annyeonghaseyo, Sajangnim." Hello, Director. “And thank you — I hear that constantly. My father always says I have his stubbornness and my mother’s everything else.”

Director Choi laughed, motioning for her to sit across from him. “That sounds exactly like Seong-Gi. Ryu Seong-Gi — still impossible to argue with, I assume?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed with a light grin, settling into the chair. “He sends his warmest regards, by the way. And told me to tell you he’s still waiting for that rematch at baduk you’ve been dodging for twenty years.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he settled back. “Some things never change. But you — Anna James, as you’ve chosen to be known professionally. I respect that, you know. Making your own way, without the weight of Ryu hanging over every introduction. Your mother Erin — she would be so proud. And Seong-Gi is, too — quietly bursting with it, even if he won’t say it aloud.”

Hyejin — Anna — nodded, her gaze softening. “That means more than I can say. I didn’t want anyone looking at me and seeing Ryu Seong-Gi’s daughter or Erin James’s daughter. I wanted them to see me. Anna James. The work I do, not the name I was born with.”

“And you will,” Director Choi said firmly, leaning forward. “Here, you are IBEX’s International Relations Lead — trusted, capable, hand-picked. Only the executive team and I know your family connection. To everyone else, you are Anna James — skilled, sharp, someone to earn respect from. That is how it will stay, unless you choose otherwise.”

“Gamsahamnida,” she said quietly, sincerity thick in her voice. “That’s all I’ve ever asked for. A fair start — nothing more, nothing less.”

“Then Busan is yours to make your mark,” he told her, sliding a folder across the desk. “Your office is on the third floor — bright, overlooks the training rooms and the practice studios. You’ll see a lot of the groups passing through, especially HYPE — their practice space is just down the hall from you.” He paused, watching her. “They’re good boys. Talented, hardworking… but one of them especially, he keeps to himself. Quiet. Takes a long time to trust. Much like you, perhaps.”

“I’ll be sure to give everyone plenty of space. I know how important boundaries are.”

“Good,” Director Choi nodded. “Now — let’s go over your schedule. There’s a welcome team dinner tomorrow evening, so you can meet everyone properly. Until then, settle in. Make the space yours.”

She stood, bowing respectfully. “Jal butakdeurimnida, Sajangnim.” I’ll do my best, Director.

“Welcome home, Hyejin,” he said gently.

As she stepped out into the hallway, the words lingered. Home. It felt strange — and surprisingly nice — to hear. She adjusted her bag, straightened her blazer, and turned toward the third floor, ready to find her office and finally, truly begin.