Page 37 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)
“Thank you for taking the time to see me today, Director Kang.”
She smiled, but there was no real warmth to it.
“When a member of the company’s most successful group asks a personal favour, one makes the time.”
I couldn’t place her accent. It wasn’t Korean. Australian, maybe?
“For whatever the reason, I sincerely appreciate your time.”
“You are his… girlfriend, yes?” Though it was posed as a question, it was clearly a statement. I replied anyway.
“Yes, Director.”
“Hmm. Though I am not directly involved, I am aware there was an… incident. In LA, yes?”
Another non-question. I was beginning to wonder if we’d circle around to talking about a possible job, or if she was just trying to get the measure of the girl who’d made such a mess with one of their idols.
“Yes.”
When her dark gaze didn’t deviate from mine, I began to feel an intense urge to keep talking, to blurt out details of what had happened in LA. But here, right now in Seoul, it felt like a total world apart, so I fought the urge and kept my mouth shut.
“You were fired.” No pretence of a question now, and though she maintained that same placid expression, I thought I saw a slight narrowing of her eyes.
“Technically, I resigned.” Not exactly a lie. I had resigned… after being told I was losing my job either way.
Director Kang’s mouth twitched, but she ploughed on. “And you came to Korea. Why?”
“I found myself suddenly free of any other meaningful plans.”
She barked out a laugh, and I fought to keep the astonished look off my face.
“What is it you want, Kaiya?” She tilted her head as she looked at me, and I felt like a mouse being assessed by a cat.
“I went to University for-”
She waved a hand through the air, slicing it in two and silencing me. “I’ve read your resume. You’re very educated, and clearly capable. Your former employer – despite the incident – spoke extremely highly of you.
“But your qualifications, your experience – not much of it applies to me.
“I run stages, music videos, comeback tours. Everything about how a performer or a group presents is run by and through me. My team creates the fan experience. How does that relate to you?”
There was a lot to unpack in all of that, but only allowing myself a moment to think my response through, I said, “In all honesty, Director, I’m not sure.”
“Go on.” She urged me, not unkindly.
“Until recently, I always intended to pursue music production. I was good at it. You’ve seen my qualifications.” Director Kang nodded.
“I realised that’s not a career path I want to follow any longer.” I swallowed, and resisted the urge to pick my nails. “Music has always been my passion, but I need to find out where I’m going to fit in it.”
“ENT does not offer work experience placements.”
“I understand,” I said quickly, “and I don’t expect special accommodation. Whatever role I take on will get one hundred percent from me. I will discover my path in my own time. It’s just…” I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I looked away towards the view overlooking the city.
“It’s just, what, Miss Thompson?” Director Kang prompted.
“Music production – whether it’s in a sound booth, or a music video, or supporting artists in whatever way that’s needed, is inspiring. It’s inspiring to be part of the process.”
“It sounds like you’re hoping the inspiration for whatever career you’re looking for will rub off on you.” I looked back to the Director just in time to see the slight narrowing of her eyes.
“I can assure you, Miss Thompson, simply being in this building – or any management building – will not always inspire you, nor is it the responsibility of the company to provide you with inspiration to make up your mind.” Holding her gaze was like having a staring contest with a jaguar.
“I am not unsympathetic, but you are not a priority. You and I are having this conversation because Baek Jihoon asked me to entertain the idea of giving you a role within my team. You may well be as hard working as you claim – your references certainly do give such an impression – but the idea that you want to work here just to find this illusive inspiration does not fill me with confidence.”
I felt myself sinking deeper, and deeper into the cushion of the chair with every word she said.
It was worse, because I could tell she was not trying to be harsh, or judgmental.
She was just pointing out things that appeared entirely obvious to her, and for the first time in a long time, I began to feel… untethered. Unsure. Naive.
“Does everyone who applies here know exactly what they want to do with their life?” I felt childish the moment the words came out of my mouth.
“The people who qualify to work here do not expect to burden the company with their journey of self-discovery.”
Ouch. I think she just accused me of having main character syndrome.
She had a point, though. I mean, who the hell was I to ask for a job in a place like this? I hadn’t earned the right to be here.
But then I thought of Jihoon. And music, and the way I don’t think I could respect myself if I didn’t try to do this. For us, and for me.
“Director, if I may; I don’t expect ENT to mollycoddle me through this quarter-life crisis I seem to have found myself in the middle of.” This time I was certain I saw her lips twitch.
“Since coming to Korea, my sole focus in finding employment has been for two reasons: firstly, because it is not my intention to be beholden to my boyfriend.
It is not in my nature to be idle, or dependent.
Secondly, and to be frank, I need to work in order to stay in the country. So, you can imagine I am motivated.
“I can figure out my own career path on my own. I don’t need to be mentored through it.
I don’t expect an important role – I don’t even expect any role.
But, if you happen to have an opening, I can assure you, you’d be hard-pressed to find someone as capable as me.
If I don’t know something, I’ll find out.
If I don’t know how to do something, I’ll figure it out, or find someone who does, and learn.
I just want to find somewhere within a stone’s throw to music creation.
Everything else, I can figure out as I go. ”
Director Kang had listened patiently through my little speech, nodding slightly as I finished.
“Your Korean?” she said, the sudden switch in track off-balancing me.
“I’m sorry?”
“Your grasp of the Korean language?” She then said something in Korean that had me looking at her blankly. She sighed, a small, delicate exhale that was as expressive as any words she could have used.
“I see. You understand this is a Korean company, with Korean assets, Korean interests, Korean clients, and Korean workers? In Korea?”
I had to physically restrain myself from squirming.
“I do understand, and I have already enrolled in Korean lessons with a local instructor.”
She made a ‘hmm’ sound, her eyes tightening ever-so-slightly.
“Well, Miss Thompson, I think that’s all we need to discuss today.”
My heart began to sink, until-
“You understand that any offer extended to you will be attached to a probation period to last no less than six months. I trust this period will be sufficient for you to bring your language skills up to a reasonable level, or at least show significant improvement. Does this sound agreeable?”
I could only nod, having suddenly lost the ability to speak any language at all.
Director Kang nodded, as if this settled the matter.
“Good. In which case, you can expect to hear from us after the festive period.” She stood, rising to her full height, and I scrambled to follow.
She was petite, probably no taller than five feet, and even though that made me five inches taller, she still managed to dwarf me.
The ramrod way she held herself as though she were the tallest person in the room was so much more than physical intimidation.
She held out her hand to me.
“It was… interesting to meet you, Miss Thompson.”
Faintly, I clasped her hand. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Director.”
“I trust you can find the door?”
I blinked. Then, I realised she had made a joke, judging by the wry twist to her lips.
“I always was an over-achiever.” I chanced a joke back, and was immediately rewarded when a surprised laugh burst from the Director, who immediately waved it away, like she didn’t know where it had come from. I watched, mesmerised, as she forced a neutral expression back onto her face.
“Very well. Goodbye, Miss Thompson.”
“Director.” I shot her a small, but appreciative smile, and turned for the door, letting myself out, and closing it behind me.
I leaned back against the tall, heavy door for a moment, exhaling heavily, drawing the attention of the nearby secretary.
She looked at me for a second, and I thought she was going to ask me to move, but instead, she held up a tentative, questioning thumbs up.
Shakily, I returned the gesture, and her smile widened.