Kang Minjae arrived at work exactly three minutes late… which he considered early.

He ran into the building holding an iced coffee, a laptop bag, and his dignity (barely). The security guard nodded at him with the calm expression of someone who had seen this exact scene every day.

“Good morning!” Minjae said brightly.

“It is 9:03,” the guard replied.

“Yes. Morning-ish.”

Minjae entered the elevator and checked his reflection in the mirror.

Hair: dramatic but acceptable.

Shirt: slightly wrinkled but artistic.

Confidence: strong.

Today was important. He was presenting his first design idea to the team manager.

He pressed the button for the 7th floor.

The elevator doors opened…

…and Minjae immediately walked into a human wall.

Not a real wall. A man. A very tall, very serious man holding a tablet like it was a weapon.

Minjae bounced back slightly.

“Oh! Sorry! I thought you were furniture.”

The man blinked once. Slowly. Like a computer processing an error.

This was Seo Jinhyuk.

Team manager. Perfectionist. Rumored to organize his socks by emotional stability.

“You are late,” Jinhyuk said calmly.

“It’s three minutes,” Minjae replied.

“It is measurable.”

“That sounds like something a robot would say.”

Silence.

The elevator ride to the 7th floor felt like ten years.

The office was bright, modern, and full of people pretending to work while secretly listening to conversations.

Minjae took his seat, opened his laptop, and whispered to the coworker beside him.

“Why does your boss look like he schedules breathing?”

“That is accurate,” she whispered back.

Presentation time arrived.

Minjae stood confidently in front of the screen.

“Today, I present a bold, emotional, vibrant branding concept!”

He clicked the slide.

Bright colors appeared. Playful fonts. Creative layout.

He smiled proudly.

Jinhyuk stared at the screen like it had personally offended him.

“Too chaotic,” Jinhyuk said.

“It’s energetic.”

“Unstructured.”

“It’s expressive.”

“It hurts the eyes.”

“That is because it is powerful.”

Coworkers pretended to type very loudly.

Minjae crossed his arms. “Design should make people feel something.”

“It should communicate clearly,” Jinhyuk replied.

“It does! It communicates joy.”

“It communicates confusion.”

Minjae gasped dramatically. “You wound me.”

Jinhyuk did not look wounded.

Ten minutes later, they were still arguing.

Minjae waved a pen like a sword.

Jinhyuk stood perfectly straight like a statue of discipline.

“You fear color,” Minjae accused.

“You fear order,” Jinhyuk replied.

“You hate creativity!”

“You hate structure!”

Their boss slowly backed out of the room without speaking.

Lunch break arrived like a rescue mission.

Minjae stormed into the break room, opened the fridge, and discovered his lunch missing.

He stared at the empty space.

He turned slowly.

Jinhyuk was heating a neatly packed meal in the microwave.

“Did you take my food?” Minjae demanded.

“I brought my own.”

Minjae leaned closer. “That container looks familiar.”

“It is a standard container.”

“You are suspicious.”

“You are loud.”

Minjae pointed dramatically. “You are the type who eats happiness with a fork and knife.”

Jinhyuk paused.

Then, very calmly, he opened the microwave, removed his food… and placed a neatly wrapped sandwich on the table.

“You forgot this on the meeting room desk,” he said.

Minjae blinked.

“Oh.”

Pause.

“…Thank you.”

Pause.

“…You still hate color.”

Jinhyuk sighed softly — the tiniest crack in his perfect composure.

Later that afternoon, a rumor spread through the office at the speed of light.

Someone had seen them arguing intensely.

Someone else saw them standing very close.

Another person claimed they looked like a couple fighting.

Minjae heard the whispers and almost choked on his coffee.

“Dating? With him??”

Across the office, Jinhyuk heard the same rumor.

He looked up.

Their eyes met.

Both immediately looked away.

At the exact same time, both spoke:

“This is ridiculous.”

And for the first time that day… they agreed on something.

They just didn’t know that this very ridiculous rumor would soon become their biggest problem.

And possibly… their best accident.

By the next morning, the rumor had evolved.

Not “they argued.”

Not “they stood close.”

Now it was:

“They secretly dated for months and had a dramatic lover’s quarrel.”

Kang Minjae stood in the office hallway holding his coffee like it was emotional support.

“How,” he asked the universe, “does arguing about fonts become a love story?”

A coworker passed by and gave him a knowing smile.

“Be strong,” she whispered.

“I am not in a relationship!” Minjae whispered back.

She winked.

He considered moving to another country.

Inside the meeting room, Seo Jinhyuk was already seated, perfectly straight, reviewing documents.

Minjae entered and sat across from him.

They stared at each other.

“…Fix this,” Minjae said.

“You started it,” Jinhyuk replied.

“I started design innovation, not romance.”

Jinhyuk folded his hands. “Ignoring rumors is the logical solution.”

At that exact moment, their boss burst into the room.

He looked stressed. Extremely stressed. The kind of stressed that makes people drink three coffees and trust bad ideas.

“I heard about you two,” the boss said.

Minjae nearly fell off his chair. “It’s not true!”

The boss raised a hand. “Listen carefully. HR is investigating workplace relationship gossip because of a complaint from another department.”

Silence.

“If rumors keep spreading,” the boss continued, “our whole team will face unnecessary attention.”

Minjae nodded rapidly. “Yes, that’s bad. So we should tell everyone it’s fake.”

The boss leaned forward dramatically.

“Or… you confirm it.”

Minjae stopped breathing.

Jinhyuk blinked once.

The boss pointed at them like a genius unveiling a masterpiece.

“If you two ‘officially’ date, attention shifts to you. The investigation ends. Our department is safe.”

Minjae stared. “You want us to sacrifice our reputations for office peace?”

“Yes.”

“That is a terrible plan.”

“Yes.”

Jinhyuk spoke calmly. “This is inefficient.”

The boss clasped his hands. “Please.”

Ten minutes later, they stood alone in the hallway.

Minjae paced in circles.

“We cannot fake date! We don’t even like each other!”

Jinhyuk adjusted his glasses.

“Correction. We do not cooperate efficiently.”

“That is a polite way to say we fight constantly!”

Jinhyuk thought for a moment.

“…Temporary cooperation for a defined purpose is acceptable.”

Minjae froze. “You are considering this.”

“It resolves the situation.”

“It creates new problems!”

“It contains existing ones.”

Minjae pointed at him. “You would treat a relationship like a project plan.”

“…Yes.”

Silence.

Minjae sighed deeply. Very deeply. The sigh of a man whose peaceful life had just packed a suitcase and left.

“Fine,” he said. “Temporary. Strictly professional fake romance.”

Jinhyuk nodded once. “Agreed.”

They shook hands like two business partners signing a very strange contract.

A coworker walking past gasped.

“They’re holding hands already!”

They dropped their hands instantly.

Phase One: Public Confirmation.

They stood together in the open office space.

Minjae whispered, “Say something natural.”

Jinhyuk nodded.

He turned to the team and said, in a perfectly calm voice:

“We are dating.”

The office exploded.

Someone clapped.

Someone whispered loudly.

Someone took a photo of nothing in particular but definitely everything.

Minjae forced a smile that looked like mild suffering.

Jinhyuk looked like he had just announced quarterly profits.

Phase Two: Act Like a Couple.

This was harder.

During lunch, they sat across from each other.

Minjae kicked his foot under the table. “Smile.”

Jinhyuk smiled.

It was terrifying.

“Less intense,” Minjae whispered.

Jinhyuk adjusted his expression.

Now he looked politely pleasant, like a man greeting a neighbor’s cat.

Minjae sighed. “We are doomed.”

Phase Three: Physical Evidence.

A group of coworkers approached their table.

“So,” one asked carefully, “how did you two start dating?”

Minjae panicked.

Jinhyuk answered immediately. “Mutual respect.”

Minjae choked on water.

Another coworker leaned forward.

“Do you have couple nicknames?”

Minjae stared at Jinhyuk with silent horror.

Jinhyuk calmly said, “No.”

Minjae forced a laugh. “We keep things simple.”

A third coworker whispered, “You should hold hands.”

Silence fell.

Minjae and Jinhyuk looked at their hands.

They looked at each other.

Slowly… awkwardly… like two people defusing a bomb… they reached out and held hands.

Warm.

Real.

Both immediately looked away.

Minjae’s ears turned red.

Jinhyuk cleared his throat.

The coworkers squealed and walked away satisfied.

They did not let go for several seconds.

When they finally separated, neither mentioned it.

At the end of the workday, they stood near the elevator.

“Well,” Minjae said, “we survived Day One of Fake Romance.”

Jinhyuk nodded. “Performance was adequate.”

“That is not how humans describe relationships.”

“…It was acceptable.”

Minjae laughed softly.

The elevator doors opened.

They stepped inside together.

For the first time that day, there was no argument. No plan. Just quiet.

Minjae spoke without thinking.

“You know… you didn’t have to give me that sandwich yesterday.”

Jinhyuk looked forward. “You would have skipped lunch.”

“That’s not your responsibility.”

“…I know.”

Pause.

Minjae smiled a little.

The elevator reached the ground floor.

As they walked out, a coworker waved excitedly.

“Bye, couple!”

Minjae groaned.

Jinhyuk sighed.

And without discussing it… they walked out of the building side by side.

Temporary cooperation.

Strictly professional.

Absolutely not real.

Obviously.

The message arrived at 5:47 PM.

From: Team Group Chat

Boss: “Since you two are dating, represent the department well at tonight’s client dinner.”

Kang Minjae stared at his phone like it had personally betrayed him.

I'm looking like a fool. Don't know what twist and turns my life had planned for me.

He turned slowly toward Seo Jinhyuk, who was calmly packing his bag.

“We have a date,” Minjae said.

“It is a work dinner,” Jinhyuk replied.

“It is a public romance performance.”

Jinhyuk considered this. “…Bring a jacket. Restaurants use strong air conditioning.”

Minjae blinked. That was… unexpectedly considerate.

He immediately shook the thought away. “Don’t become nice. It confuses the plot.”

Now the time came, it's evening and the sky is cloudy just like min jae's heart.

They entered in the restaurant.

The restaurant was elegant. Quiet lighting. Expensive menus. Water glasses that made Minjae nervous.

They sat side by side.

“Couples sit close,” Minjae whispered.

Jinhyuk moved his chair exactly three centimeters closer.

“Not that precise!”

“It is measurable.”

Minjae sighed.

The client arrived.

“Ah, so this is the famous office couple!” the client said warmly.

Minjae smiled brightly. “Yes, we are very… cooperative.”

Jinhyuk nodded. “Efficient partnership.”

The client laughed. “How did you meet?”

Minjae panicked.

Jinhyuk answered smoothly. “We argued about design principles.”

Minjae stared. “…That is true.”

“Conflict builds understanding,” Jinhyuk added.

Minjae’s heart did a tiny, confused flip.

Dinner began.

Minjae tried to cut a piece of steak. It resisted heroically. The knife slipped. The piece flew.

Jinhyuk caught it with his fork midair.

Silence.

Minjae whispered, “Did you just save my dignity?”

Jinhyuk placed the steak back on Minjae’s plate. “Food should not escape.”

Minjae pressed a hand over his mouth to stop smiling.

Halfway through dinner, the client leaned forward.

“You two seem very comfortable together.”

Minjae froze.

Jinhyuk looked at him. Not at the client. At him.

“…We are learning,” Jinhyuk said quietly.

Minjae forgot his next line completely.

After dinner, it started raining.

They stood under the restaurant awning.

Minjae checked his phone. “No umbrella. Of course. Tragic but predictable.”

Jinhyuk opened his bag and took out a neatly folded umbrella.

“You carry an umbrella at all times?” Minjae asked.

“It is practical.”

They stepped under it together.

Very close.

Too close.

Minjae could hear the rain hitting the fabric above them. He could also hear Jinhyuk breathing. Calm. Steady.

They walked in silence.

“…Thank you,” Minjae said softly.

“For what?”

“For catching my steak. And… this.”

Jinhyuk did not answer immediately.

“You work hard,” he said finally. “You should not get sick.”

Minjae looked forward quickly, pretending the rain was extremely interesting.

When they reached the subway entrance, they stopped.

“Good performance today,” Jinhyuk said.

Minjae crossed his arms. “You smiled twice. That’s character development.”

“…It was acceptable.”

Minjae laughed.

They stood there a moment longer than necessary.

Then they went in different directions.

Both pretending something small hadn’t changed.