EIGHT SECONDS

Bang Chan

by loveseungs
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. There is a saying that all it takes to fall in love are eight seconds
of continuous eye contact. Eight whole seconds of an unbroken stare.

“I’ll be taking my leave,” you announced, grabbing your bag and coat on your way out of your office. “Good
job, today. Don’t forget to send me the files I requested. You guys take care.”

Your employees looked up for a quick moment, smiling politely as you, their boss, made your way to the
exit. One of them stood up abruptly, telling you that he’d just emailed you the documents on the new project.
“Yes, I’ve seen them. Thank you. You should rest,” you answered, wrapping your scarf around your neck.

With a breath of relief, you swung the office doors open and stepped out, dim streetlights lighting your way
along the streets. After a long day, it was good to be kissed by the outside, free from the suffocating corners
of the workplace.

‘Ah, where should I grab dinner? Oh, that reminds me, I should by the grocery,’ you thought, checking the
time. 8:27 PM, the time read, and you decided that that was enough time to make a stopover to buy new
stock for the pantry.

“Good evening, madam. Where might I take you today?” your driver asked as he opened the car door for you.
As you made yourself comfortable inside, you answered, “Home, please.”

The car ride to your home was silent, mental images of paperwork and files incessantly rushing through your
head. You hoped the employees weren’t slacking.

From the window, a sign outside a convenience store displaying an appetizing photo of instant noodles hung.
Your stomach churned. Ramyeon sounded absolutely fantastic.

For the rest of the ride home, the image of those steaming, hot noodles pranced around your already-stuffed
brain, tempting you with its charm. When you safely arrived home, you hurriedly changed out of your work
clothes into a more comfortable outfit and decided to head to the nearest grocery.

It was worth noting that you did not want your staff to think you to be some sort of lazy bum who could not
whip herself up a hearty meal by coming home with a plastic full of MSG-induced noodles. In attempts not
to be seen, you sneaked out quietly.

It wasn’t long until you arrived at your destination. With grace, poise, and an undeniable craving for ramyeon,
you strut into the grocery and picked up a metal basket.

The small hole-in-the-wall eatery had just closed for the day, and Chan was tasked to buy some new
ingredients for the following week. With a list in hand, he made his way out of the restaurant and thought
about what possible new dishes he could try preparing in his free time.

‘Jjinmandu, it’s been a while since I’ve cooked you,’ the boy mused, grabbing a cart. ‘Maybe I’ll cooking
different types of dumplings for this week’s specials.’

Working his way from the top of the list, Chan set out to pick and choose the items he jotted down. He
ventured on an expedition through the cans, plastic bags, boxes, and bottles, searching for the top-quality
brands of grocery-bought items that he needed. ‘I need to wake up early to head to the market tomorrow. I
hope I don’t run out of vegetables by the time I get there. Ooh, I like this brand of soy sauce.’

He wondered about how nice dumplings would taste smothered in soy sauce and five spice powder, but then
again, the best dumplings should be delectable without any add-ons. It was decided. The customers this
week were in for a tasty, dough-wrapped treat.

On his way to fetch a pack of spices, Chan’s eyes wandered from the supermarket shelves to a lady who was
dressed rather interestingly. The clothes were clearly branded, but seemed to be hastily thrown together. It
was not, however, the appearance of this person in front of him that caught his eye–no, sir. It was simply
that the basket this woman held was filled single-handedly with tubs of instant ramyeon.

The inner gourmet in Chris Bang screamed in horror.

Truly, you were just hungry. And had an insatiable craving that could only be fulfilled by this extremely
processed yet terribly delicious meal. Incompetent clients, late nights, all the hustling and bustling–being a
boss had its toll on your tummy. Sometimes, the only thing that could ease suffering was a hot cup of noodles
stripped from any form of proper nutrition.

Whatever the reason, Chan was not letting this stranger use money for these instant abominations on what
could be spent for a king-like feast in his humble eatery. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve noticed
that there are a terrible number of instant ramen cups in your basket and uh… I just want to ask. Are these
for emergency or do you plan on eating them all?”

You were taken aback, not at all thinking that someone would approach you in the grocery. As the
chairwoman of a prestigious corporation, your cheeks flushed. “Ramyeon’s a comfort food,” you answered
hurriedly. Goodness, what would you do if this stranger found out that the CEO of a powerful company was
buying instant ramyeon instead of dining at a luxurious hotel? You were dressed rather sloppily, too. The
media would make a fuss; security was on your hotline…

“Apologies, mate. I’m a chef, so I naturally find baskets filled with instant meals to be a hurtful sight. Not to
offend you–ramyeon is definitely a good meal to devour when you’re in need of comfort, but wouldn’t you
want to eat something more filling?” the silver-headed stranger questioned, tilting his head.

“I can cook, but I don’t have time,” you told him, hoping he would get the hint and leave you and your basket
full of MSG.

His mouth opened a little and he lifted a finger up as if he was going to say something, but it closed before
a sound could be uttered. A few seconds passed before he decided to speak. “Will you be interested to come
to the restaurant? It’s very near here, and I want to try some special dishes this week. Bang Bistro, if you’ve
heard about it?”

Your shoulders tightened and your voice hitched quite a bit. “Like, Michelin star Bang Bistro?”

A blush appeared lightly on this boy’s cheeks. “A-Ah! Yes. That’s the one. I’m a chef there. My family owns
it.”

‘So that’s what Secretary Seungmin was rambling about! The employees always have lots to say about that…
I guess I should have tried it out sooner…’ you thought. Ramyeon was slowly losing its charm the more the
chef talked.

“Uh, I’ll see if I can drop by this week? Thank you for the offer. I’ll put back some of these, though not all,”
you told him, turning around to head back to the instant food aisle. “Your name? So I know who to look for.”

“Chan,” he replied, an amiable grin dancing on his lips. “I’ll see you there, I hope?”

“Yes. Make it good.”

“It’s about time, Miss Y/N. It’s about time,” Seungmin shook his head, typing away at his laptop. He was
seated comfortably over at his desk in your office, working on the tasks you had just assigned to him. “Who
convinced you?”

Nonchalantly, you answered, “Oh. One of the chefs.”

The secretary’s eyes started to bulge out of their sockets, his typing coming to a halt. “You met one of the
chefs?”

“I passed by the grocery to buy a stock of ramyeon but he stopped me, claiming that it was gourmetically
offensive,” you mentioned, flipping through paperwork. “What’s the big deal?”

“One of the top chefs in Korea just invited you personally to his restaurant, that’s the big deal,” Seungmin
scoffed at you, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe this. Do you know how long it takes to book a reservation
there? I had to wait a month! You can go there anytime!”

“Okay, so if you feel so livid about it, then come with me. Let us grab a bite after work today,” you invited,
placing the papers you looked over inside a folder. “Wait, I need to ask Sir Woojin to pick these files up for
the Marketing Department.”

You pressed a button on your telephone and spoke into it. “Sir Woojin, please head to my office.”

“Not today, Miss Y/N. I have a ton to do. You’re the one who told me to amalgamate the data for the recent
report.” Seungmin huffed, continuing his busy typing. “I’d love to, but duty calls. Do you want me to give
that folder to Mr. Kim?”

“No, it is quite alright. Woojin’s on his way. Anyhow, why don’t we meet there and I’ll help you plan out the
new project? I know you need help on that,” you begged, “I would not like to go alone. My treat.”

“Madam, I’m supposed to be helping you and not the other way around.”

“You’re turning down help AND a free meal to one of the most popular and hard-to-reserve restaurants in
Korea? I have known you for eleven years. Who are you? Also, quit the madam and miss thing. I know you’re
just using it to taunt me.”

The tired secretary gave in. “You make it an irresistible offer. Let’s get going at six?”

“Good! Bring the project files. We have much to discuss.”

Walking with Seungmin was always bliss. He’d always find some way to make the atmosphere feel bright
despite the looming stresses of work. He was neither draggy nor uninteresting, and you were very glad to
have hired such a diligent man.

“Reservation under Ms. [l/n], please,” Seungmin told the receptionist waiting outside the restaurant, and she
ushered you both in with a smile.

As you two made your way to a comfortable spot near the glass windows, the waitress handed you a menu
and explained that she’d be at your service and that all you needed to do was call. You thanked her and
settled down, taking off your blazer.

“So where’s your chef friend? Thought you said he invited you here,” Seungmin questioned, eyes skimming
through the menu.

“Well, I made the reservation explaining the Chef Chan thing. I forgot to ask if he was in the house. I’ll ask
the waitress later when she comes back,” you replied, cooing over the photos displayed. “This rice bowl looks
quite delectable.”

“Actually, I’d like it if you tried out the dumplings if it’s alright with you? I recommend them because they’re
on the limited special menu this week,” a voice came, and you looked up from the pictures. “Hello! Nice
seeing you again, it’s Chan. I see you brought a friend with you.”

“Ah, hello! This is my secretary, Kim Seungmin,” you introduced, gesturing to the boy in front of you.
Seungmin shook the chef’s hands, eyes smiling with excitement.
“Secretary? Ah, you’re a boss?” Chan inquired, eyebrows furrowing. “That’s odd, I never thought I’d see a
high-ranking somebody in the grocery.”

You almost jumped out of your seat. “S-Secretary? Did I say secretary? Oh, he’s a secretary, alright! J-Just not,
uh, mine! He works under the, um, CEO. Which isn’t me. I’m a… secretary in-training. You see, the CEO wants
to hire another secretary! So me and Seungmin? F-Fellow secretaries!” you laughed in horrible attempts to
explain yourself.

Seungmin shot you a confused glare, and you shook your head slightly and abruptly as if to tell him to simply
go with the flow.

“A-Ah, I see. Anyway, would you mind if we surprised you with the meal? If it’s okay, leave yourselves in the
hands of the chefs at the bistro,” Chan proposed, bringing his hands together.

“Definitely! We’re in your care,” you uttered, smiling wide.

The chef bowed. “I will not disappoint you. This will take fifteen to thirty minutes of waiting time.”

As he walked away, you caught Seungmin gawking at your pathetic conversation. “Care to explain, boss?”

You held a finger to your nose. “Shhh! I’m a secretary for now.”

He was not convinced. “I don’t see what the big deal is. You’re literally the CEO of one of Korea’s biggest
companies, and yet here you are, flustered because of your role? You gotta give me some context. I’ve been
your friend for years, and I’ve never once seen you be ashamed to be a chairwoman.”

A sigh escaped your mouth. “Alright, okay. I met Chan the other day in the grocery because I snuck out to
buy ramyeon, right? I don’t know how damaging it would be to my posh image if some famous chef found
out the CEO of a big company was snacking on instant noodles. To make matters worse, I wasn’t even
dressed properly. I looked quite like a loafer. The media might make a fuss and clients might say that I don’t
have taste.”

“Are you sure it’s just because of your global image?” Seungmin eyed you.

You tilted your head to the side a little. “What do you mean just because of my global image?”

His lips turned up happily. “Nevermind that. We’d better get started on planning. I have the files, let me just
get them from my bag.”

Your chin rested comfortably in the palm of your hands. Analyzing Seungmin’s statements, you squinted
your eyes and wondered why you were making such a big fuss about this whole situation. Perhaps you indeed
were getting too much into it–maybe it was the piling up of paperwork and projects you needed to do that
caused you to stress over little things. The big conclusion that you came up with was that de-stressing was
an absolute necessity before things could get in the way of your work.

“The prospects of other companies opening their art centers in April next year are very low, so I’ve made a
plan to open it by then. If we can be the first to open our institution, we can grab the attention of the crowd,”
Seungmin explained, going through the files in his hand.

“What about branding? I’m sure you’re well aware of how important it is to do so, but what do you suppose
we can to do attract more people?” you pondered, jotting down notes.

“What are people into nowadays? Following the trend would likely be beneficial in doing so.”

“Well, we can invite a famous painter or musician to hold a meeting at the center. There can be dancers or
theatrical performances. I’m sure that will catch the public eye,” you suggested.
Seungmin nodded slowly. “Those are surely things that we can include. We can hold a two-day weekend
event, full of different activities to promote the center. However, I think that we should add some variety to
the event by incorporating classic interests such as food.”

“What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m telling you to pitch an invite to your chef friend. Think about it. How many people would be willing to
flock over to our art center if they found out a popular chef was cooking there? That doesn’t even include
the hungry people who will look for lunch after attending the different activities,” Seungmin expounded,
scribbling neatly on his notebook. “I can make you the pitch, but I need your approval.”

It was an excellent idea. “That’s indeed quite a brilliant idea—wait. But he doesn’t know I’m the CEO! I’m a
secretary now, remember? Wait, he’s going to find out that the CEO’s a sluggard who snacks on lots of instant
ramyeon!”

Your secretary rubbed his temples. “Since when did you put your lowly thoughts over the company? That’s
despairingly selfish.”

Your eyes barked at Seungmin’s, stabbing them with a hard stare. “Did you just call my thoughts lowly and
me selfish? Ya, Kim Seungmin. Are you forgetting who’s in charge here?”

He smiled shakily. “Please don’t fire me, madam.”

“Anyway, you’re quite right. It’s a clever scheme, but I shall only consider asking him if you don’t rat me out.
Please, I’m rather embarrassed. I have an image to uphold.”

Seungmin opened his laptop and started to type. “I’ll think of something. Give me fifteen minutes, I’ll make
a pitch and send the file to you. Ask him as we leave. The sooner we propose to him, the better.”

Presentation? Marvelous. Taste? Absolutely majestic. Chef? Admittedly, attractive.

“Frankly, I’m offended you haven’t taken me here until this day,” you mumbled, stuffing your mouth with
dumplings. The scrumptious flavor of dumplings was a warm memory of home.

Seungmin took a bite of his own dumpling. “You were always busy, boss.”

“Shh!” You glowered at your secretary. “I’m no boss when we’re here, remember?”

“Anyway, you never really had time. You always leave the last,” he continued, sipping water. “It was your
loss.”

“These are honestly the best. I’ve forgotten just how good fresh dumplings are. They’re little bundles of
explosions.”

“That is exactly why I find it of utmost importance that we get your Chan friend to attend Opening Weekend.
This is going to be such good business.”

“Have you finished the pitch?” you questioned, dipping a dumpling in sauce.

“I sent it to you when the waitress came back with our food,” he notified you. “Can we go here more often?
My tongue lingers for more servings.”

A nod was sent back to Seungmin in reply as you scrolled through your phone to read the pitch he prepared.
Excellently done, it was. You’d expected no less from your more-than-competent secretary whose diligent
college habits were maintained up until he was working. All that was left was for you to ask Chan if he’d be
willing to do it.
–

“How was the food?” Chan inquired, smiling as he led you out of his humble joint. “I hope I delivered what
you expected. Where’s your friend?”

“Certainly. It was a delightful experience. Also, Seungmin’s in the bathroom,” you answered, fiddling with
your fingers. The clock was ticking. “Anyway, I have something to ask of you, if it’s alright. I apologize–you’ve
already done quite plenty for me since our ramyeon run-in.”

The boy nodded. “Sure, go ahead.”

“So, our company’s going to launch an art center next year, and my boss is scouting for different people to
host activities on Opening Weekend to help promote the center and the artists. I was thinking, if you could
be one of the representatives for the culinary arts, that would be fantastic. The art center is being launched
in Busan, I thought it’d be a good way to promote your cuisine outside Seoul, too. Anyway, it’ll still be next
year, so there’s still plenty of time for you to think about it.”

Chan placed a finger on his chin, squinting his eyes in thought. “I’ll have to see. Can you send me the details
of this? I can give you my number.”

“Oh, yes. I can send you the files right now,” you told him, whipping out your phone to hand over. He punched
in some numbers and gave it back quickly, and you sent him the pitch Seungmin had prepared beforehand.
Chan’s phone itself beeped, and he pulled it out to see your messages.

“Ah, I’ve got it. By the way, you do realize you’ve never told me your name, right? I just remembered,” he
voiced, looking up at you. “Or shall I call you ‘Ramyeon Girl’?”

Your ears flushed pink. “Please, it’s Y/N. Actually, if you could come to forget the ramyeon thing, I would
deeply appreciate it.”

Just then, Seungmin emerged from the entrance and handed you your coat. “You left it, Y/N. Aigoo, you’re
so forgetful! How can you expect to be a secretary like this? Tsk.”

Punching your secretary who seemed to be enjoying himself was a tempting thought. “Is that so? My bad,
Seungmin.”

“I love your food, sir. I come here often with my co-workers, and we all love it very much. Thank you for this
opportunity,” Seungmin bowed, waving off your comment.

Chan bowed back. “Oh! That’s great, I’m happy to hear you enjoyed yourselves. And there’s no need to call
me ‘sir’. Just Chan is fine. Anyhow, I need to return to the kitchen. I’ll text you soon, Y/N.”

With that, the chef disappeared into the small hole-in-the-wall eatery and Seungmin was left confounded.

“Text you? My, I didn’t know you were so forward,” Seungmin commented, clearing his throat.

You whipped your head in the direction of your secretary. “What? You were the one who told me to pitch the
project, and now you’re doubting my abilities to be forward? I am honestly baffled.”

“Oh, right. The project,” Seungmin chuckled, scratching his head. “Sorry, I thought you, y’know. Gave him
your number.”

“I did, what’s so wrong with that?” You scrunched your nose.

“No, I meant flirtatiously. Anyway, I now remember that all your connections are strictly professional.”
Continuing in a low whisper, Seungmin mumbled. “Maybe that’s why you’re still single at such an age.”

“Hey, Seungmin. When was the last time you updated your resumé?” you questioned, pulling your lips into a
curved, thin line.
“What? Why?”

You dropped your smile.”You might need to update it in preparation for when I kick you out of the office for
your unnecessary comments.”

“I humbly apologize, madam. I will now call Driver Changbin. Please don’t fire me.”

In less than a moment, your driver pulled up and you bid your secretary farewell. You appreciated him, but
sometimes his snarky comments made you think over things a little too much. You indeed had been single
all your life, unable to create time to fawn over people. From a young age, your one-true-love had been the
company. Now that you were CEO, you were practically wed to your work. But as the age of youth was
beginning its descent from the peak, being teased about being single for all your life started taking its toll.

When you arrived home, you decided to take a nice bath before looking over some more paperwork for the
night. There were some exchanges with other companies that still needed to be dealt with, and you wanted
to deal with it as soon as possible.

But, as your eyes scanned the different papers, you slowly came to realize that you weren’t reading anymore.
Thoughts about having a relationship soon flooded your mind. Memories of casual rejections to your
highschool admirers tickled back into your head, taunting you. There were suitors, but they all lost to your
interest in the company. Perhaps you’d been putting love off for too long.

Maybe Secretary Seungmin could arrange a blind date for you or set you up with another young CEO. It, after
all, would be beneficial to fall for someone who’d benefit the company…

Ding!

Your phone buzzed and immediately, you whisked your head up. Grabbing it, you were pleasantly surprised
to see a message.

Under the name “Stop Eating Ramyeon”, the text read:

I must ensure that the clients first will be pleased by the food I am thinking of serving to the public. Would
you like to be the taste-tester so that I may prepare a special menu for the art centre? My samplers are much
better than the atrocities that go by the name ‘instant noodles’.
-Chan

With a smile, you replied.

I will visit next week. Please ensure, though I am positive you need not be reminded, that the sampler dishes
will be just as good as the dumplings I had today.

In a second, a brand new message completely stole your attention from your paperwork.

Looking forward to working with you~

Once the clock hit 6:00 PM, your phone buzzed with the reminder that you were supposed to be in the bistro
in an hour. Being quick and snappy, you finished sending an email to an overseas client that was interested
in doing business with your company.

The instant you finished, you stood up and called for Seungmin, telling him to bring you a fresh blouse right
away. Something casual, you told him. Not too fancy.

“All your meetings are done for the day,” Seungmin stated, handing you a peach pink blouse. “Do you have
another event that I had forgotten to put on the schedule?”
With a smile, you shook your head. “No. I was booked for an appointment personally. You can come home
early today, if you’d like. I will be taking my leave.”

“You’re not overtiming today?” your secretary questioned, opening the door for you. “I must say, I’m quite
surprised.”

“Well, be thankful because I’m letting you off early. I need to go now, see you tomorrow,” you waved and
headed in the direction of a bathroom.

Seungmin shook his head confusedly before walking back to his desk. “My, she’s oddly eager.”

As soon as you got changed, you walked outside and was greeted by Changbin, the driver. “Good evening,
madam. Where to?”

“Bang Bistro, please.”

It was surprising not to see a long line of people waiting outside the hole-in-the-wall. When you arrived, the
store sign read: Closed for this evening.

You raised an eyebrow and texted Chan.

Is the bistro closed now? I was thinking of dropping by.

Within a few moments, the door opened and there stood chan, apron still on. “Oh! I forgot to tell you that I
closed down the shop. Come in.”

Bowing politely, stepped inside. “Why? I’m not quite sure I’m following the flow of events.”

“Ah, well, you see,” Chan continued, “I wanted to focus on preparing the recipe. Creating a special menu is
challenging. Also, I wanted to sit down with you to get immediate response as to how you find each dish. It
must be perfect, you know. Anyway, you chose a good time to come. I’m almost done preparing the
samplers.”

You let out a small, ‘Ah,’ as you picked a seat near the kitchen. In a moment, Chan disappeared and
reappeared once again with a tray of plates in hand.

“Alright so,” Chan began, setting down the plates. “For the art center, I was thinking of serving a variety of
different dishes from different cultures to showcase colorful cuisine in line with the theme of an artsy place.
So, for your appetizer, I prepared a warm salad made with tomatoes, onions,and cucumbers. I mixed in pesto
to give it a kick, but the real main ingredient here is adlai, which is a healthy grain that gives the dish body.

After listening to his explanation, you scooped up some of the dish and started to eat. The pesto danced
quite nicely with the vegetables, and Chan was definitely right about the adlai giving the meal a good base.
“It’s a perfect appetizer. I fancy it,” you commented, wiping your mouth.

“It’s really healthy, too. I hope it makes up for your terrible ramyeon choices,” he laughed, pushing the next
dish towards you.

“I thought we agreed to forget about it!”

“Sorry, sugar. I just can’t seem to get over that awful basket of nothingness,” he grinned, “just try this next
thing. They’re sashimi samplers. I bought the fish fresh from the market this morning. It really makes a
difference.”

One by one, Chan introduced his small dishes, explaining each one with care. As he talked, his eyes crinkled
gently with twinkles in them, showing his enthusiasm.
With every new dish was a whirlwind of flavor. Truly, the next dish was just as mouthwatering as the last.
Chan would watch you try a bite, enlarge your eyes, then smile as you started to chew. The process of you
being shocked and wowed by every dish brought him delight.

“This has honestly got to be the best food I’ve ever tasted. It goes beyond five-star restaurants in hotels!”
you exclaimed.

“Wow, you sure must have had a lot of luxurious food to say that,” he commented.

You shook your head and laughed nervously. “O-Oh! I’m just brought to many fancy restaurants because my
boss needs me there! You know, being her secretary and all.”

“Mmm, I see. Oh! Hold on. I have dessert for you.”

You wiped a trickle of sweat from your forehead, sighing relievedly. Whew.

The street-lamps lit Chan’s silhouette dimly, but his features were softly highlighted. From the crickles of his
eyes to the tip of his nose to the bow of his lips, he looked gentle.

He had been kind enough to escort you outside, where the wind kissed your cheeks and the stars watched
conversation unfold between the two of you.

“I rather enjoyed cooking for you today,” he spoke, rubbing the tips of his fingers together.

“And I enjoyed trying out your dishes. Thank you for the marvelous meal.” You bowed slightly in thanks,
offering him a smile.

He grinned back. “I hope your boss’ll fancy my cooking. Come back soon? I’ll have new dishes for you to try
then.”

“She’ll like it quite a lot if I do say so myself.”

“Take this.” Chan handed you a white box. “It’s the chocolate cake. Tell her to try it.”

“Will do.” Attempting to contain your inner excitement, you took the box from him. “Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” he answered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to close up. Take care, Y/N!”

“You too, Chan,” you told him, making sure he was inside before you called your driver to pick you up.

That night, you made it a point to send a thank you text to the kind chef who’d been so accommodating.
You’d insisted on paying, but he told you that it was his job to ensure that his client would only receive the
best of his services. He told you to think about it like the weekly report that employees give their bosses.

Thank you once again for the meal. I am enjoying the cake.

The cake for your boss?

Enjoyed* I enjoyed the cake. I meant that I really liked the cake you served earlier. The cake for my boss is
safe in my fridge.

Ah, that’s good to hear! Come back, okay? I already have some new recipes to try in mind ☜(˚▽˚)☞

I’ll do that. See you! Good night.

After that meeting, going to the bistro became more and more frequent. You’d visit every week or so often,
and Chan would serve you different samplers for the menu for the art center. Tuesday had become the
decided Day of Visit because that was the day Chan’s restaurant was the least busy in the evening. Days
became weeks and weeks became months. Soon, snow fell upon the January days.

Your visits to the bistro were something you came to look forward to, as Chan did not only make a competent
client but also a wonderful friend. Discussing dishes weren’t the only thing you two spoke about but your
interests and lives as well. Turns out, Chan was not only a chef but also a musician who had a deep passion
for creating meaningful melodies. You, on the other hand, made it a point to try and not talk too much about
your work in attempts to prevent the slipping of your role in the company.

It had been Tuesday, and you walked into the office with a smile on your face. Finally, there’d been something
you could await eagerly. The staff greeted you as you passed, and you did the same. As soon as you settled
into your office, Seungmin came bursting through.

“Have you heard? The Park Co. is going to launch their art center in March,” Seungmin announced, huffing
as he held his tablet.

“What?” You stood up. “That’s insane!”

“What do we do? This is obviously a ploy to compete! If they open up first, we’ll lose customers.”

“There’s only one option. Tell each department to double-time for this month. I’m moving the launch to the
end of February.”

“Excuse me?” Seungmin coughed, eyes wide. He adjusted the frame of his glasses. “Did you say by end Feb?”

“Alert the people who will be presenting on Open Weekend. The musicians, artists, performers, etcetera. Tell
the Media team to start preparing new advertisements. Once I can confirm that end February will be the sure
date, we need to blast the news. I know for a fact that construction is done. If we can start filling the center
with its interior as soon as possible, that would be great. I will visit it this Saturday, so please put that in my
schedule,” you instructed, and Seungmin bowed before he left.

Great. You rubbed your temples. You could already feel the whirlwind of stress creeping up on your back.

If photos could describe your day at work, it would be a monstrosity of lines squiggled hastily on a paper. In
short, it was awful.

The sudden change in schedule seemed to quake the workplace, and employees were forced to work snappily
to adjust to the abrupt modifications to the schedule. Damn, you were hungry. And in need of comfort.

You could hear the disappointed nagging of a certain chef lecturing you on the dangers of instant noodles,
but in that moment, your unquenchable desire for a steaming bowl of ramyeon could not be meddled with.

There was something odd about the way the shelves of packaged noodles comforted you. It was as if the
colorful plastics hugged you tight, consoling you whilst giving words of assurance. The way the words “SPICY
BEEF” flashed in your eyes was like the tender touch of a mother, a solace in the atrocities of life.

You knew better than to fill your stomach with those sickening strings of who-knows-what. But, in that
instant, there was nothing else that could be done.

“I knew I’d find you here,” a voice came, snapping you out of your ramyeon reveries. “You didn’t come, so I
thought something was up. What are you holding?”

Ashamed. Like a thief caught in the act, you were ashamed. You knew better than to turn to the tempting
hands of instant noodles, but there was no other thing that could bring you the gratification you had desired.
“Bad day,” you mumbled, holding tightly onto your spicy beef ramyeon.

“Don’t do this,” Chan mentioned gently, taking the package from your hands. “I’m here, you know.”

In a flash, he took you by the hand and returned the package. Chan started to lead you out of the grocery
and in the direction of the bistro. Perhaps today was simply another one of ramyeon’s losses to the gourmet.

“It’s such a waste if no one eats my samplers, you know,” Chan commented, taking a whiff of the passing
breeze. “I’m giving you free access to the best dishes in the world, and you turn to those abominations? I
feel utterly betrayed.”

“Sorry. In the midst of the terrible mess that was today, I forgot it was a Tuesday. I had to overtime,” you
replied, looking at the ground.

“Anyway, we’re here. Um,” Chan started, only to remember he was still holding your hand. “Oh, whoops.
Apologies.”

“Hmm? For what?” you questioned, looking up at the boy. He let go of his grasp and you realized. “A-Ah.
Don’t fret, it’s okay.”

It was not okay. Your cheeks were a mess and your chest started going turbulent. Your head felt warm, and
his touch lingered on your fingers.

Who was he to grab such an important person’s hand like this? You weren’t sure if you truly felt angry.

“Let’s go in, shall we? No more instant noodles, okay? Only Bang Chan’s free samplers.”

“And that’s why our company decided to move the schedule. I hope it’s not too much of a hassle for you,”
you muttered, sighing. “I’m so sorry this came up.”

“No worries. Have a bite of this tartufo pasta I made. I bought the ingredients a while ago. It should taste
fresh and delicious,” Chan assured you, gesturing for you to eat.

You nodded, twirling the noodles and shoving it in your mouth. “Everything you cook is delicious, Chan.”

“You make me blush. Please, it’s only because I make everything with love,” he laughed, resting his chin on
his hands. “You know, that’s the secret ingredient, really. Chefs who don’t put heart into their food can whip
up a perfect recipe, but it will never beat a meal made by someone who put lots of love and thought into
their dishes. Trust me. I’ve done an experiment.”

You looked up at the boy, who was grinning amiably at you. You’d never seen anyone cuter than Chan in
that moment.

Wait, cute?

A noodle got stuck in your esophagus, forcing you to start hacking. You grabbed your glass of water,
chugging it down hastily. After your choking stopped, you wiped your mouth and looked away from the chef
in front of you; your cheeks flushed.

“You okay, love? You’ve got some cream on your mouth,” he pointed out, eyes furrowing in concern.

“Yep. Never been–cough–better. Where’s that cream on my mouth?” you asked, wiping your lips.

Chan stood up and leaned towards you, grabbing a napkin of his own. “I’ve got it, it’s here–”

He’d left only a few inches as a proximity between your face and his, causing your cheeks to turn even
warmer than it already was. The erratic beating of your heart sounded so loud, could he hear it? You certainly
hoped not. He caught you staring, and your eyes locked for a couple of seconds before you started to melt
in your seat.

“Ah, sorry. I got it. You’re alright now,” he coughed, abruptly moving away.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, trying not to meet his eyes. Something in your chest was pounding… perhaps
you needed to book an appointment with your doctor.

“Before I realized it, he was holding my hand.” you groaned, slumping on your couch. “It was weird. I think I
might have some kind of allergy to getting touched. I get kinda feverish. Please don’t stare at me, I can’t
afford to get sick.”

Seungmin shut his phone off. “He held your hand?”

“Is that weird? I desperately needed to think of something else before my temperature started to burst,” you
asked, staring into the abyss. “He caught me eating ramyeon again so he led me out of the grocery.”

“Don’t fire me,” Seungmin began, “but I think there are sparks somewhere there.”

“Kim Seungmin!” you screeched, almost falling off your couch. “Please! It’s not ‘love’. I’m the same girl who
hasn’t time for petty things such as that, remember? The company needs someone with focus.”

“No one said anything about love. And even if anyone did, I don’t quite know about you, but you and I both
know you secretly feel insecure in the romance department. Besides, that’s why I’m here. To get your sorry
bottom out of the doldrums. The sooner you admit you think the chef is a, well, dish,” he snickered, “the
better. You’ll never know! It might have a positive effect on you and your work life. Also, if Bang Bistro signs
under our company, that’s another–”

“Well, that’s the thing! Maybe I don’t want it to be about work! Maybe… for once in my life, I’m glad to be
interested in something that isn’t stocks or clients. Maybe that’s why I still can’t tell him I’m the CEO of some
huge company.”

“Okay. Sorry for going there,” Seungmin huddled next you you on the couch. “You know, I’m really happy
you’re in fact interested in something else that isn’t stocks or clients. Honestly, I was about to send you on
a blind date disguised as a meeting.”

You playfully smacked Seungmin’s arm, causing him to yelp. “Gosh! Am I that pathetic?”

“No, but for the eleven years I’ve known you, I don’t know how you’d fare trying to get your own dates.
Honestly, I’m so glad he held your hand. There is hope.”

“You know, I’ve received a lot of applications for the secretary position. Would you like to take a look?”

“I’ll keep my job, thank you.”

Before your alarm could even ring, your eyes fluttered open. This was it, this was the day.

The cold February air kissed your skin as you threw off your duvet, grabbing the clothes you’d already picked
last night from your chair. After taking a quick shower, you headed out and walked towards the art center.
It was practical for Seungmin to suggest staying in a hotel the day before the Open Weekend so that you
could come to the art center early without prior stress.

When you got there, you caught a glimpse of a certain someone carrying cloth bags. You were quite stunned
to see Chan, but knew you should have expected this.
“Chan!” You called out, immediately regretting it after. You pat your head, trying to smooth out any stray
strands of hair.

The boy stopped in his tracks and turned his head towards you, shooting you a refreshing grin. He walked
backwards to match your pace. “Good morning, Y/N. I just came back from the market to pick out some
fresh ingredients. It’s a good thing you told me to come here a day early. I don’t think I’d be able to handle
being so rushy on such a big day. Where are you headed to dressed so fetching like that?”

“Ah, good morning. I’m on my way to the courtyard. The opening ceremony is soon,” you answered, stomach
turning as the realization of Chan watching you present your CEO speech hit your head.

“That’s right! The chairwoman will be there, right? Good luck to you.”

“Good luck to m-me?”

“O-Oh, because as a secretary, you must be very busy and stressed for preparations.”

You let out a huff. “T-That’s right! Uh, I must be going now. I’ll see you later.”

He bowed politely and headed in his own respective direction as you walked towards yours. Seungmin caught
up to you and tapped you on your shoulder, interrupting your thoughts.

“Miss, are you ready for the ceremony? It starts in two hours. Soon, there will be many guests. Our sponsors
are on their way, too,” your secretary notified you, fiddling with his tablet. “I have a copy of your speech. Will
you be needing it?”

“I already told you to quit the ‘Miss’ thing. Chan is going to be there,” you uttered, steps staggering. “He’s
going to find out.”

“Yes, and? This isn’t the time to be thinking of that! Clients from all over Korea and the globe will be
attending. You need to focus, Y/N.”

“But what do I do once he finds out?”

“We discussed this! I told you, I’m pretty sure he’s got the hots for you. I saw you and him talking–don’t think
I haven’t been noticing! What are you so worried about?”

You stopped. “Well, what if he doesn’t? Hell, Seungmin! I’m supposed to be an untouchable CEO who’s overly
competent and perfect in every way! What if that’s not his thing? Or worse, what if he starts flirting just
because I’m a rich and capable woman with a company at my hands?”

Seungmin shut off his tablet and rubbed his temples. “Y/N, listen to yourself. I’ve known you for more years
anyone at the company has, and not once have I heard or seen you falter. Yet here you are, clammy because
of some gourmet you met in the grocery! Where’s that competitive spirit? Who cares about your assets? It’s
not like you’re going to marry him now. Also, I’m here to punch him if he starts affecting your leadership.
I’m here to keep you in check–that’s literally the purpose of a secretary. So stop your whining and start
thinking about the ceremony!”

You let out a breath of air and sharply inhaled another. “I apologize for my behavior, Seungmin. Honestly,
you’re right. I’m being incredulous right now. Thank you for being an overly competent friend to match my
overly competent self.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, if you’ll just start preparing the speech–”

“Done and over with. What’s on the schedule?”

The opening ceremony was a success. After giving a robust welcoming speech, prospectors and clients
started flocking to you to discuss possible business matters. The celebration started, and numerous
performers started coming up on stage to showcase their talents. The expected number of attendees
exceeded the estimates, and more people continued to show up. Lunchtime was nearing, and you figured
that you’d like to visit Chan to see how well he was doing.

To say he was doing good was an understatement. Truly, he was doing magnificent. The line for Chef Chan’s
cuisine was doubled in comparison to what you’d usually seen at the bistro.

From the corner of your eyes, you spotted Chan and for a brief moment, your eyes met. Shock paralyzed
you, and you were unable to come up with your proceeding actions. After moments of being frozen in place,
you harshly turned away, walking quickly in the opposite direction.

What would you do now that he knew who you really were? How would you face him the same way? Never in
your life did you ever feel embarrassed to call yourself a chairwoman, and yet somehow, Bang Chan managed
to throw your flow off.

Lunch could be skipped, you decided. There was much to do and business to make. You could have sworn
you told a client that you’d get back to him after a while, so that’s where you were headed.

The day fleeted like a breeze, and before you knew it, the art center was closing for the day. The whole event
was a triumph for the company. Lots of fans flocked to see their favorite artists perform, and many were
interested in buying the different products being sold. From instruments to art supplies, much of the stock
had been purchased and it had only been the first day.

When you returned to your hotel room, the sky had long been darkened. 9:27 PM, the time read. A bath
sounded great until your stomach let out a loud growl.

‘Lunch, in fact, should not be skipped,’ you thought, heading to the room telephone to order room service.
A burger sounded great to quickly fill you empty and yearning stomach.

Ding dong!

‘Wow, their room service is impeccable. Delivered before I could even call.’ You made your way to the door
and took a peek at the eyehole. Strangely, you could not see who was out there. You turned the knob.

Neatly placed in front of your doorstep was a white box containing a note. It read:

Y/N, please bring this to the deck on the 30th floor.

Suspicious. Security was on your hotline, but you picked up the box and took a look inside.

Chocolate cake.

Enthralled, you shut your hotel suite’s door and hurried to the elevator. Your fingers felt tingly and you felt
a tickle in your cheeks. Stop it, stop it. You were going ballistic. The elevator ride from your floor to the
thirtieth felt like hours, but that was the least of your concerns. Your heart was fighting to jump out of your
ribcage, and that was a serious health problem. You started to feel the years of gorging on ramyeon suddenly
crashing on your shoulders. Maybe a certain chef was right. Ramyeon was a health hazard. Whatever it was,
you needed your heart to please calm the hell down.

The elevator door swung open and you threw yourself out, eyes wandering for a certain pair of crinkly, kind
eyes. When you found them, you were led to call out the name of their owner.

“Seungmin?” you hollered, voice shaky. Ah, what’s this?

Slowly, your secretary approached you. “Hello, Y/N. You seem quite disappointed.”
His words were a blade to your chest; you felt uncomfortably exposed for he had found the truth so easily,
so quickly. What were you supposed to say? It felt as if the moment you opened your mouth, incoherent
strings of words would fall out.

“Thank heavens you’re disappointed! You should see your face. I was just here to ensure that this whole sitch
is safe. Your Mr. Eight Seconds is over there. Have fun, Madam,” Seungmin grinned, patting your head. “Also,
by the time this is over, I’m expecting a raise, thank you very much.”

You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape your mouth. “You’re the best, Kim Seungmin.”

“Go,” he begged, “you’re making the poor man agonize every second you make him wait.”

Without further ado, you made your way to the direction Seungmin mentioned, tucking a strand of hair into
place. Perhaps you should have carried on with freshening up before heading over here. Goodness, how
unprofessional!

“Hi, Y/N,” Chan greeted, sitting under an umbrella table. He gave you one of his gentle Bang Chan smiles,
and you had to constrain yourself from melting into a puddle. What were you to do with this boy? How utterly
unfair, how he could have you this whipped with two words!

“Hello, Chan,” you answered, taking a seat. You placed the white box on the table. “Someone invited me to
bring this box of chocolate cake to the 30th floor.”

“That’s for the CEO of your company, since I heard she liked it so much,” Chan began, linking his fingers
together. “Listen, I need to–”

Grumble, grumble.

You froze, looked at Chan, then looked down, then looked back at Chan. Hell, you wanted to scream.

“I knew it!” Chan screeched. “I was wondering if you’d eaten, so I saved a tupperware of dumplings and rice
for you! They’re not hot, though.”

Could anyone honestly be more considerate? You wanted to cry. “Thank you, I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

He nodded, passing you the tupperware meal and a wrapped set of chopsticks. “Enjoy.”

Without any sense of shame or hesitation, you shoved a dumpling and a wad of rice in your mouth. Thank
everything for Bang Chan and his amazing cooking.

“Hey, listen. I really need to know. Why didn’t you just say you were the CEO from the start? I don’t understand
why you’d hide something like that,” he inquired, burying his chin in his arms as he watched you eat.

“Please don’t look at me, it makes me flustered,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth. “Uh, I guess I owe you
an apology. It’s pathetic and unprofessional of me to have lied to you, but I was truly enticed by the fact that
someone had befriended me without any ulterior motives. I’ve had lots of people approach me simply
because I have a company at my hands. I was glad that in that rare moment, somebody had cared not for a
CEO but a normal human being.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I found out anyway. Before the speech, I mean.”

You almost spit out a dumpling. “What?”

“One, you’re quite the terrible liar. Two, it’s rather hard not to know who you’re working for. Three, your last
name is plastered in big, bold letters outside the art center.”

“But I never gave you my last name?”

“Uh, it was actually in the reservation list the first time you came to the bistro.”
“Oh.”

After a couple moments of silence, Chan piped up, “I hope it doesn’t change anything, though.”

You cleared your throat. “Are you angry?”

“Angry?” Chan tilted his head. “Why in the world would I be angry?”

“Because I lied. I hope you don’t think I used you. I really–”

“The most blood-boiling thing you’ve ever done to me was fill a basket with instant noodles, Y/N.”

You were taken aback. All this worrying, and he was concerned about instant noodles? You bit your lip to
prevent yourself from laughing, but your all your giggles spilled out of your mouth.

“C-Chan!” you cried in between fits of laughter. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Call me ridiculous, but it’s true! I loved cooking for you, so there’s no reason for me to be mad. Like I said,
I hope it doesn’t change anything. You’re really an awesome little someone.”

Somewhere in you, you mustered up the courage to finally look at Chan properly. You’d had some kind of
hint when the streetlights lit up his features rather ethereally that one time, but once again, you found
yourself staring at his face. There was simply something about this boy in front of you that kept your eyes
stuck.

Chan caught you peering at him, and his eyes uncontrollably flittered to meet yours.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

It took eight whole seconds before Chan could bring himself to speak and his voice still came out in a stutter.

“C-Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

“Wh-What?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”