A Season for Lies

Damage Control

Yoon Seo-ah had been pacing the corridor of the sixtieth floor of the K-Beverages building for twenty minutes. The corridor itself felt like an intimidating work of minimalist art. Grey marble walls, a gleaming black granite floor, and several modern abstract art pieces that probably cost more than her apartment. The air was cold and silent, broken only by the sound of employees' footsteps walking with a quick, purposeful pace, as if they were afraid of wasting the expensive oxygen on the executive floor.

And at the end of that corridor was a large oak door with a simple silver plaque: Kwon Jin-hyuk, CEO.

In her hands, Seo-ah clutched a wooden box wrapped in indigo silk cloth. Inside was hangwa**, the most expensive traditional Korean confections she could find—a peace offering for the ice god who resided in that office.

You can do this, Yoon Seo-ah, she told herself for the fifteenth time. You are the daughter of the Seoryu Group. You just need to go in, apologize gracefully, give him this, and then leave. Simple.

But her brain replayed the scene from the restaurant. Kwon Jin-hyuk’s expressionless face as the soup soaked his shirt. His cold eyes staring at his kimchi-stained tie. And the deadly silence that followed. The shame washed over her cheeks again, making them burn.

What if he has security throw me out? she thought, panicking. What if he throws this box back at me?

She peeked through the glass panel beside the door. Inside, she could see the silhouette of Kwon Jin-hyuk sitting ramrod straight behind his vast desk. His face was intensely cold, focused on the documents before him. He looked like an emperor studying his maps before going to war. His aura of power was so thick that Seo-ah could feel it even from behind the glass wall.

Okay, not now. Maybe later, when he’s going to lunch.

Just as she turned to flee, the office door suddenly opened.

Kwon Jin-hyuk strode out, followed by Secretary Cha. He didn't see Seo-ah at first, his eyes fixed straight ahead, already focused on his next agenda.

"Make sure the legal team reviews clause thirteen in the contract with the Brazilian supplier," Jin-hyuk said to Secretary Cha, his voice as cool as ever. "I smell a potential ambiguity there."

"Yes, Daepyo-nim."

This was her chance. Now or never. With her heart pounding in her throat, Seo-ah stepped forward.

"Jin-hyuk-ssi!" she called out, her voice sounding more like a small squeak.

Jin-hyuk stopped. He turned, and as his eyes landed on Seo-ah, his expression didn't change, but the atmosphere immediately dropped two degrees colder. "Yoon Seo-ah-ssi." He didn't ask what she was doing here. His tone implied that her presence was an unwelcome interruption.

Seo-ah felt the entire apology script she had memorized evaporate from her mind. All she could do was bow deeply. "I… I came here to apologize. About what happened at the restaurant that night. I am truly… so, so very sorry. It was a complete accident."

She offered the box of hangwa with both hands. "This… this is my apology."

Jin-hyuk looked at the box for a second, then back at Seo-ah's flushed face. "It already happened. Forget about it," he said curtly. He gestured to Secretary Cha, who swiftly took the box from Seo-ah's hands. "We're in a hurry."

He turned and started to walk away, clearly considering their conversation finished.

To Seo-ah, that subtle rejection felt more painful than if Jin-hyuk had yelled at her. But on the other hand, there was a sliver of relief. It was over. She had managed to apologize. Now she could leave this terrifying place.

With mixed feelings, she turned to head for the elevator. Her steps felt light with relief, but also a little shaky from nerves. She walked past an open executive lounge, where a few important-looking guests were standing around, observing a strange, futuristic machine.

The machine was the K-Barista 5000, the newest barista robot prototype and the pride of the K-Beverages R&D team. With its precise metallic arms, it could create more perfect latte art than any human barista.

Seo-ah, her mind still in a jumble, wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings. The heel of her high shoe suddenly caught on the edge of the thick carpet.

"Oh!" she yelped as her body pitched forward.

In her reflex to find purchase, her hands grabbed for the nearest thing: a stainless-steel trolley holding paper cups, bottles of syrup, and a bag of coffee beans for the robot's demonstration.

It was a decision she would regret for the rest of her life.

Her panicked hands pushed the trolley forward. Its slick wheels glided smoothly on the granite floor, and it bumped into the base of the K-Barista 5000 with a loud 'THUD!'.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the robot began to make strange noises. A bzzzt sound was followed by its indicator lights flashing red. The robot, which had been in the middle of a cappuccino-making cycle, suffered a fatal system short-circuit.

What happened next was a catastrophe in slow motion.

One robotic arm holding the milk frother suddenly went wild, spraying hot milk onto the ceiling like a misguided champagne celebration. The other arm, which was supposed to pick up a cup, instead slammed into a tower of paper cups, unleashing a white avalanche across the floor. Its steam valve hissed open violently, shooting hot steam into the air like an angry dragon.

And the worst part… the main coffee dispenser, which was supposed to elegantly drip espresso, got jammed in the "on" position and began shooting a high-pressure stream of hot Americano—not downwards, but sideways.

Directly into the corridor.

Kwon Jin-hyuk, who was just passing the lounge area, heard the commotion behind him and turned. It was his last mistake of the day.

FWOOSH!

The stream of hot Americano hit him with incredible precision, squarely on the side of his body. His new shirt, his clean suit—all of it was now soaked in hot coffee.

A total silence fell over the executive floor. The K-Barista 5000 let out a final, pathetic beep and went dead. The important guests stared with their mouths agape. Secretary Cha stood frozen, his face a perfect mask of horror, but his eyes were screaming hysterically.

And in the middle of it all, stood Yoon Seo-ah. Her perfect hair was now adorned with a few drops of milk. She stared in numb horror at the chaos she had just created. She looked at Kwon Jin-hyuk, who stood motionless, dripping coffee from the sleeve of his suit jacket onto the gleaming granite floor.

She had just apologized for spilling soup. And now, she had destroyed a multi-million-won prototype and had given the CEO a coffee shower. Her "Damage Control" mission hadn't just failed. She had just declared war.

Jin-hyuk's face showed no emotion. Still cold. Still calm. But, if one looked closely, a vein in his temple twitched. Once. A micro-earthquake on the surface of a frozen lake.

***

Notes:

Hangwa (한과): A general term for traditional Korean confections. Giving high-end hangwa as a gift is a formal and respectful gesture.