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jimlingss · 6 years

Text

Jungle Park [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1.5 OR Chapter 2

➜ Words: 4.9k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: depiction of throwing up.

➜ Notes: oh shitttt, here’s finally Hoseok’s slice of life series. buckle up, folks. there’s an entire adventure waiting ahead.

Sometimes life can be so entirely mundane that you forget your surroundings. The routine falls into place, yesterday becoming today, tomorrow a reflection of all the other days until time blurs all together. Your body goes on autopilot, mind operating somewhere else as your skin and bones carry forth. And that’s how sometimes, you snap awake again and wonder: How the hell did I get here? Such a moment is now when you’re pulling up on the curb in front of a nightclub. You scramble out the door before walking over to the two people standing in the street and greeting them. One girl is obviously wasted, mumbling incoherently and slumped over her more sober friend. The latter female grumbles in annoyance and thanks you when you help open the door, guiding her drunk friend inside. “Where are you off to this evening?” you ask while closing your door, hands gripping on the steering wheel. “Sixth street, please,” the sober one says in the backseat before she reaches over to her companion and tries to seat belt the girl in. But said girl only waves her off and instead leans over to where the front seat is. Her short blonde haircut brushes against her forehead, nearly pricking into her eyes that are blackened by smudged mascara. Her little black dress rides up unattractively and you realize her three inch high heels are held in her hands. Every word is slurred and spoken slowly. “Wher’ ar’ we go...i..ng?” “Home,” her friend answers. She appears a lot more put together than the other girl, sleek black hair behind her, deep blue dress complimenting her red lipstick. “Now can you please sit down so we can go, Choa?” “No! Don’t wanna!” But the intoxicated female gets buckled in anyhow, despite her little temper tantrum. You offer a sympathetic smile to her friend before nodding and merging onto the street again. “Drive to his house! I wanna give him a piece of my mind!” “No, you are not going to call him again. You won’t contact him. You most certainly will not go to his house. Come on! You’re better than this.” “No, I’m not! I’m weak and I love him, Yura!” Choa wails out in sobs and the other girl sighs in exhaustion. “And that fucking bastard took my heart and ripped it into shreds! He cheated on me, can you believe that?!” You realize she’s talking to you, so you nod, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Sounds horrible…” “Yeah! He cheated with my fucking mother!” She laughs hysterically, on the verge of violent sobs. “He’s a motherfucker!” You raise your brows, finding it difficult to keep your eyes on the road when you’re brought to such speechlessness. “That’s...uh…that’s really unfortunate.” “He was supposed to marry me!” She’s screaming in both spite and sadness. “I even picked out a wedding dress! It was a Vera Wang! And I lost the receipt! What am I supposed to do with it now?!” She continues on her rant, spilling all her deepest darkest secrets to you, a stranger. “You know, I thought he was cheating on me with that bitch secretary of his. I know she tried to seduce him on a business trip once, but he told me he loved me and he wouldn’t want anyone else but me. And..and..and I trusted him! But lo and behold, I go back to my family’s house and what do I find?! He’s fucking sleeping with my mom! My mom! Out of all people!” You swallow hard, moving your hands on the steering wheel, taking a left down the avenue. You don’t know what to say or how to console the girl. It sounds absolutely horrible and you empathize deeply, especially when she’s grieving in your backseat and her cries are bloodcurdling like she lost a child. “I never liked him anyways,” Yura snaps. “You deserve better, Choa. Good riddance it’s over. He’s your ex now, so there’s no point in being hung up on him.” “But that doesn’t change the fact that I love him!” She’s yelling and crying, and you snap out of your trance, flinching from her deafening wail. You accelerate a little more to get to the destination faster. “I still LOVE HIM!” “You’re better off without him.” “You don’t understand!” Choa sobs without stopping and then she looks at you again, catching your attention in the rear-view mirror. “Haven’t you had an ex that you still love?” “Choa, leave the taxi lady alone. Sorry,” she says to you before turning towards her drunk friend. “She needs to concentrate on driving!” This is definitely the most interesting part of your job. Your little career is nothing impressive. It’s dull and you don’t make much. It’s barely enough to scrape by when you’re living in the city. After paying the lease of the cab, the fuel and maintenance, you only get to keep the fare and tips which leads to about three hundred a night. But at least you get to hear people’s stories, happy or sad. You get to see all sorts of different people and their backgrounds, see where they’re going, get a glimpse into their lives. It’s interesting to say the least. Your lips part, about to give the girl some advice. You want to tell her to talk to him and see if he’s serious about fixing things or see if it’s really over. She also needs some time to heal and think about things, see what she wants and what’s best for her. After all, she can’t move on with her life without some sort of closure. The first step is to sober up after tonight…. But you don’t get the chance to say these things, not when she suddenly leans over with a groan and the next words that comes from her mouth has a cold shiver running down your spine. “I think I’m going to be sick.” You whip yourself around, almost hurting your neck in the process. The thought of having to spend the rest of the night on your knees scrubbing polyester seats and cleaning after someone’s vomit makes your blood run to ice. “Is she going to throw up?!” The stoplight turns green and you’re forced to look back and drive, going over the speed limit by a bit. Yura taps her friends back and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Um...no, she won’t.” There are gagging sounds. The girl is retching at the back of her throat. And then it splashes. The bean burrito and vodka shots from earlier regurgitates from her mouth and plunks down in chunks, slapping all over the floor and the backseat. She hurls and heaves, spewing out endlessly. When she’s done, she burps and the putrid stench fills your small taxi all at once, making you want to vomit. “Sorry…” This is it. This is the last straw. You need another job.

“I can’t do this anymore!” The woman paces around, high heels clicking softly against the carpet as she storms around, arms crossed, trying to walk off her rage. She’s wrinkling her blazer and stretching her dress pants, but the man doesn’t make any comments. He’s too busy rubbing his temples with his thumbs behind the desk, leaning back in his swivel chair. The room is heavy with tension. “Sunyi, calm down.” “No! I won’t! Jimin, this is unacceptable!” She stops at his desk, hands pressing on the clean surface. “He can’t just take a case from me when I’ve been working on it for months! They were my clients!” “Then speak to Hoseok. I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” “But he won’t listen. You are a partner of this firm. You are his partner. Can’t you talk to him about it? This isn’t the first time and I’m fed up. This is not what I signed up for.” Jimin sighs, not knowing what to say. His job is already full of mediation, he would rather get rammed by a school bus than deal with workplace conflicts on top of it. Sensing his hesitation, Sunyi stands straight and scoffs. “Can you afford to lose me? I know plenty of other places that would love a lawyer like me.” The threat is loud and clear and he stares back at her with narrowed eyes, not appreciating her tone of voice. “Jimin….talk to him.” “Fine.” A long exhale escapes his mouth and his body slumps. “I’ll see what I can do.” The female nods and opens the door, but she lingers for a second. “And can you please talk to Yoongi?” “What is it now?” “His attire is disgusting,” she spits. “He wears open-toed sandals around the office and doesn’t cut his toenails and the last thing I want to see before my lunch break is his dirty feet fungus.” She storms out of the office and Jimin stands up from his spot in exasperation, calling out to her, but no one hears his woes. “Sunyi, I’m a lawyer! I’m not supposed to be dealing with problems like this!” // It’s a relatively normal afternoon. People are tapping away at their keyboards, preoccupied with documents and files upon files. A few legal assistants are helping the others, running across the office floor, murmuring things. The photocopier whirrs to life, phones ringing once in a while. It’s the glorious sound of work. Jimin decides to go for another coffee cup and he times it perfectly to run into his best friend. “Hey, bud.” They stand in the kitchen at the counter, side-by-side, facing the white cabinets. “Everything going alright?” Jimin looks at him with a soft smile and crinkled eyes. Even when he’s a professional and dressed cleanly like one, his brunette hair and cute face makes him look like a kind boy-next-door. It’s not such a bad thing. If anything, it’s advantageous to have such a natural disguise, making opponents underestimate his abilities. On the contrary, his partner’s appearance is as frighteningly scary as his personality. He’s dressed sharply in a black blazer and dress pants, polished and neat. His black hair is styled well with a strand curled at his forehead, strong brows accentuating a sharp jawline. Jimin realizes why he’s the one who appears more approachable in the office. Hoseok is just way too intimidating. “Fine,” he responds curtly and picks up on what’s going on with his sharp perception. “What is it, Park?” “We need to talk, Hoseok.” He nods and looks over his shoulder, stirring his coffee mug before taking a sip. “Do you want to go into my office?” “No, we shouldn’t alarm the others,” he says and the other male will never understand why he’s so sensitive to such little things. There’s no one in the kitchen anyway. He doesn’t know why Jimin is speaking so quietly either. “But listen, I need you to do something for me and if you don’t, I’m going to lose my shit.” Hoseok lifts a brow. “What is it?” “Do you know what I’ve been doing these days? I’ve been doing the job of an HR representative. I’m dealing with issues in this office every single day, all the petty little problems and the stupid drama.” He scoffs and then laughs, having thought there was something more serious at hand. “That’s because you have no backbone. Do you see anyone coming to me with their issues?” “That’s exactly it,” Jimin emphasizes. “You are half of the problems around here.” “Really now…” Hoseok’s curiosity is piqued. “And who is having problems with me?” “No. We are not going to discipline them or scare them or use whatever tactic you’re thinking of right now. We need to address this the right way. There will be absolutely no intimidation tactics or sweeping under the rug or warnings. We need to keep the tropes happy, Hoseok. Everyone needs to function well for this office to function well.” He motions him to go on. “So…?” “We need to hire someone for HR.” Hoseok laughs. He throws his head back and gets a good chuckle. Then as he shakes his head, he takes his mug and begins walking down the hall towards both their offices. Jimin follows behind him with a growing scowl. “We’re going to open an HR department for fifteen people?” “This is a high conflict office and you know it,” Jimin reasons with him. “There are problems every other day here and I’m tired. I can’t focus on my real job. We need someone here to solve conflicts and to deal with all the issues that I don’t want to deal with.” “No.” Hoseok keeps it short and simple. “We aren’t going to do that. It’s unnecessary. Do you realize we would need to clear out another office and pay them? It’s an unnecessary expense in our budget. And not to mention, it’s ridiculous. Have you ever heard of a firm this size having an HR department?” “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve made myself clear. I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you.” The shorter man stops the taller one, both of them standing in the middle of the hallway and quietly bickering underneath their breaths. “Hoseok, what is the name of our firm?” “Not this again, Jimin. If you have something—” “Hoseok. Answer my question.” He rolls his eyes, tired of the other’s childish antics and getting flashbacks to days in university. Yet, Hoseok gives in with a long sigh. “Jung and Park.” “Exactly. We’re in a team. It’s me and you—” “Actually, that’s incorrect.” He gives a shit-eating grin, marring his cold exterior with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “It’s supposed to be you and I.” “Don’t be an ass.” Jimin pouts. “We’re hiring someone for HR. That’s final. It’s what we and everyone else here needs.” “Fine.” Hoseok gives in once more and nods his head. “Just hire someone.” “Oh my god!” Jimin suddenly shrieks and scares the living daylights out of his partner. “You don’t hear anything that comes out of my mouth, do you?! No wonder people have issues with you!” “What?” “Hiring is part of the HR job and I’m not doing that anymore!” He throws his hands up into the air. “You hire someone. I’m done!” “What?” Hoseok is still confused. “You want me to hire someone?” “Yes! Finally, the man hears!” Jimin laughs manically, causing Hoseok to ponder how many coffee cups he’s had. He ends up skipping away, happy that one out of the heaps of problems is solved for now. And Hoseok is left by himself, sighing. Who the hell is he supposed to hire?

You need a job. After you force yourself to sync your sleeping schedule back to the general public, sleeping at night instead of day as you’ve been doing for the past year, you go on a job hunt. First, you revamp your résumé. When you’re satisfied, you flip open the local newspaper until you realize this isn’t the nineteenth century and no one uses the newspaper anymore. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to search for a job. Needless to say, you’re a bit rusty. But you still hold a lot of hope as you scour online for job postings. You write down phone numbers, giving them calls to see if they’re still hiring, most of which apologize and tell you they already have someone. It’s difficult since the economy isn’t doing great, but you don’t give up. Every opportunity of work, you jump at the chance, calling or emailing, even printing out physical copies to go drop it off...that is until you run into a certain post… Human Resource Manager Jung and Park Full-time $40-60k Salary It’s right up your alley. It ticks off everything you want and everything that you can do. When you click on it, you get the specifics of the company, the details of the position, responsibilities and requirements. You qualify perfectly and even the location of the firm is only a mere subway ride away. The pay is decent, enough for you to live, and it’s unlike the taxi business where some nights you go home empty handed. There could not be a better opportunity. It’s miraculous, a chance that fell from the Heavens. But….you can’t do it. “Is there a reason why you want to work at McDonalds?” The shift manager looks at you expectantly, voice a bit on the quieter side, making it hard to hear. “Well, I’ve eaten at this franchise a lot.” You swallow hard, trying to hide your shaking hands and conceal the nervousness. “I think it would be really interesting to be on the other side of the counter.” “Hmm, that’s nice,” she replies sincerely and nods with a kind smile. At this point, you’re looking anywhere, any place where you can make some fast money before you search for a real career position. If you’re on a search forever, you won’t have money to pay the upcoming bills. Your savings will only do so much before they diminish into nothing. “Hello.” You look over the bakery case towards the manager who’s preoccupied with some cakes. “Hi, can I help you?” “Um, are you possibly hiring at the moment?” You hold the stack of résumé close to your chest, not yet giving up. “Unfortunately, no.” They give an apologetic expression. “We’re not looking for anyone.” You walk around stores on the street and in the malls, bakeries and coffee shops, clothing stores and fast food chains. It feels like when you were a teenager again, looking for a summer part-time job and coming up short every single time. All the interviews done in corporate offices never call you back or they take your résumé without even actually taking a glance at it. And maybe that’s a good thing. You have nothing impressive about yourself. You don’t deserve a fancy job in some high rise or at some luxurious establishment. You’re not cut out for that life. It’s plain and simple. They wouldn’t want you. “Can you handle a stressful environment?” “I’d like to say I can.” You hum before laughing. “I was a summer councilor back in the day and someone lit a cabin on fire once, so I think it’s suffice to say, I can handle myself during an intense environment.” The old woman across from you laughs heartily. You could feel it — this interview was going well. You might actually get the job and the excitement was making your eagerness double. “Last question,” she flips a page and then folds her hands on the table. The woman looks deep into your eyes and is quiet for a moment as if she is trying to truly see the person in front of her and not just a candidate for the job. “Don’t you think you’re overqualified for the position?” You frown. “Overqualified?” “I mean, your work experience is very versatile. Your educational background is fantastic. I am quite fond of your personality. You seem like a genuinely earnest and hard-working individual. But, why here?” Her eyes bore deep into yours. “This is an elementary school administration position. All you would be doing is answering phones all day.” “Well...I...uh….if this is about the salary, I’m completely fine with what you’ve offered. And I like stability. I don’t have plans of looking for something else,” you’re stuttering, not knowing how to answer. “I like working with different people and I like kids too. I..just think I would do well here.” She smiles softly, a very calming presence in the midst of your panic. “This isn’t about salary and I’m not questioning your loyalty. We’ve spent...what...an hour together? And I can tell you’re a kindhearted person, Y/N. I’ve lived to see enough people come and go. Heck, even before this interview, I had someone come in and the first thing they asked were about vacation days.” This woman knows nothing about you. At most, she might be your future employer, but sometimes you wonder how people can know you after spending mere moments together. Is your face really that easy to read? Are you just too open about yourself? But none of these questions matter when what she says hits you the hardest— “I think you should aim higher.” The posting still haunts you. Human Resource Manager Jung and Park And maybe that’s the reason why you haven’t been doing well in any interviews, except for a select few. Perhaps this is why no one has given you a call back despite your efforts to display your dedication. The posting follows you wherever you go, on the back of your mind, imprinted into your memory. Maybe this is what you really wanted from the start — not stupid jobs at fast food restaurants or running in the streets handing out your résumé or jobs that aren’t of interest. Human Resource Manager It’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. But with one eye open, you go in for the kill.

In the heart of the metropolis are soaring towers, corporate offices and companies, business and enterprises that you have no reason to represent or work for. The firm is large and full of glass, from the giant windows to the glass of the conference room. But despite the modern design, it’s gray. The walls are painted in a gray shade, spaces left empty, cubicles tall and covering people’s faces. There are boxes of files and paperwork stacked up along the halls. It seems like a tense environment and you can hear people hard at work, typing on keys, flipping through papers, sighing every so often. You wonder if you look awkward and out of place. For the fifth time, you tug on your pencil skirt and smooth out your old blazer, afraid you look weird or tacky. Your grip on the briefcase tightens and you don’t even know why you brought the darn thing when there’s only a squished ham sandwich and more printed résumés inside. You’re sitting straight in your seat, staring at the receptionist and waiting. When she looks up from her computer, you divert your eyes to the firm’s name overtop her desk on the wall. Jung and Park. You can do this. All you have to do is keep it professional. The door to the left conference room finally opens, someone exiting and holding a file of folders. Your heart stops right in your chest. Your breath hitches. Something stirs inside of you. A tall man with dark hair, in a fitted suit, is standing right in front of you. His sun-kissed skin is glowing, high cheekbones, long nose, everything adding to his handsomeness. His mere presence commands your attention. Even when he’s frowning, there’s something about him that makes him so alive. Hoseok takes one mere glance at you before looking down at his papers. “Y/N?” You flinch when he calls your name and you stand up, swallowing down the thick lump in your throat, feet together, adjusting your skirt one last time. You can do this. “Yes?” “You’re here for the interview?” he asks without looking at you, taking a peek at his watch and phone. When you confirm, he nods and pockets his mobile device before gesturing towards the empty conference room. “Come in.” You’re shaking. Even when you’re trying your hardest not to tremble, hiding your hands in your lap, it’s useless. You can’t stop staring at him either. No matter what you do, you can’t tear your gaze away from his face. It’s too difficult. You want to be professional. You want this job. You don’t want to screw this entire thing up. But the things you want are things you could never have. “You have a degree in…” He searches the paper in front of him. “Human Resource Management Honours. Wow.” You mumble, “it’s just a commerce degree…” “No, it’s exactly what we’re looking for.” Hoseok, on the other hand, has no problems with keeping it professional. He doesn’t notice your staring eyes either. If anything, he only casted cold glances and seems to be disinterested in the whole ordeal. “Do you have any previous HR experiences?” “Yes. I worked as an HR representative for about a year before the small company shut down.” The lawyer hums and studies your résumé like your entire existence can be summed up with words printed on the lines. “And your previous job?” “I was an executive dispatch member for cab services.” It’s a slight lie, a truth exaggerated. It doesn’t sound impressive to say you drove a taxi around in your late twenties and your early thirties. “And you quit because?” “Differences in professional goals.” More like you spent three hours cleaning up after some drunk girl’s vomit and had enough. “How did you hear about this position?” “I saw a posting online.” “Right.” It seems like he’s going down a checklist, firing question after question at you. The man never once looks at your face. He treats you rather coldly and you feel like your chances are slim. It’s just a feeling inside that tells you won’t get the job — which is understandable. “Why do you think we should hire you?” “I...I have a good educational background. I’ve worked in many different areas, so my work experience is very versatile. I’m really hardworking as well.” You mentally thank the older lady from a few days ago who gave you ideas on what to say. “I’ve worked with a lot of different kinds of people before and I enjoy it. I think I would be a valuable asset to your team.” Yet, Hoseok appears unfazed at your answer, as if he’s heard similar things from other applicants. “What do you consider to be your weakness?” “I…” You’re having a hard time, palms sweaty, mouth dry. “...I think I have a pattern of underestimating myself. I’m a bit dependent on others too, but I’ve been working to improve myself on that…” The man across the conference table scribbles something down on his paper, like he doesn’t enjoy the fact you have trouble being independent. “Then what are your strengths?” “I’m dedicated and hardworking. When I do things, I have to do them right or I won’t be satisfied.” You clear your throat, getting a grip on yourself, reeling from your whiplash of being in his presence. “I’m resilient. I can get back up when I’ve been knocked down. I can survive and make it past hard times…” “That’s good.” There’s a ghost of a smile gracing his features, warming his cold expression, and you’re trapped in a trance. But it’s interrupted when he suddenly moves back, closing the file. You’re surprised at how it’s over so quickly. “Well alright. I’ll give you a call then. Thank you for coming by, Miss Y/N.” He stands and you follow after a delayed second, but before he opens the door, you interrupt— “Um...I..” “Oh sorry.” He turns. “Did you have a question for me?” “Hoseok, I….I really want to work here.” Your fists are clenched tight, your head is downcasted and you’re sure you look like a desperate mess begging for this job, but you have to take the leap. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. “I understand if you won’t hire me, but will you at least take me into serious consideration?” “I’m sorry?” There’s a pause. You look up at his confused expression and you frown, stumbling over your words. Hoseok finds the way you speak to him odd, as if you’re perfectly familiar with him. He interjects with his own question, “Do we know each other?” “What?” “I’m sorry. I got into a car accident about seven years ago. There are some things I can’t remember anymore.” He offers a small smile and you’re caught off guard. It came out of nowhere, so sudden, but he says it nonchalantly like it doesn’t affect him at all. Your frown deepens to the point where it hurts and you blink. You’ve been stunned to silence. His brows are raised and he dips himself down, searching your face and he repeats himself in honest curiosity, “Did we possibly know each other?” “Not really,” you answer. “We were acquaintances back in university, like twelve years ago. I thought you would remember me, that’s all.” “I’m sorry.” His brows furrow. “I can’t seem to recall…” “No, it’s alright.” You nod, returning his smile. “I’m sorry to have to make you talk about your accident.” “No, I don’t mind.” Hoseok looks down at your application in his hand. Y/N. Your name brings no significance back into his mind, but he’ll make sure to remember from now on. “Well, if there isn’t anything else...” “O-oh yeah, umm, okay.” You bow your head slightly as he opens the door. “Thank you for the interview.” Hoseok lifts his arm with an open hand. You stare down at it for a second before clasping your palm with his, shaking his hand. The corner of his mouth lifts and he nods. “It’s not a problem.” The both of you end up walking your separate ways. The man returns to his office with a stack of files in his arms. And you can’t help but turn around to stare at his broad backside becoming smaller in the distance. Well...either way, the two of you were strangers from the start. You’ve always been strangers to each other. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember.

#BTS fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok #jhope fanfic #HOSEOK AS A HOT SHOT LAWYER WHO THINKS HE'S THE SHIT #OC WHO JUST NEEDS A FUCKING JOB TO LIVE ( ꒪Д꒪)ノ #i promise you this will not be cliché

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