Chapter 2: Interview Chaos

I made it to Gangnam with exactly two minutes to spare.

The building that housed Minho Architecture & Design was everything I expected and more. Glass and steel reached toward the sky in a design that was both modern and elegant, the kind of structure that made you feel small and insignificant just by standing near it. Through the massive windows, I could see the lobby all marble floors and minimalist furniture that probably cost more than my college tuition.

I caught my reflection in the glass door and wanted to cry.

My hair looked like I'd stuck my finger in an electrical socket. The coffee stain on my shirt had spread into a large brown blob that no amount of strategic bag-positioning could hide. My makeup, what little I'd managed to apply while running, was smudged under one eye, giving me a slightly deranged look.

This was it. This was how my career would end before it even started.

"You can do this, Hana," I whispered to myself, straightening my shoulders. "You've worked too hard to give up now."

The lobby was even more intimidating on the inside. My sneakers squeaked against the polished marble as I approached the reception desk, where a woman with perfect hair and a perfect suit looked up at me with barely concealed horror.

"Can I help you?" Her tone suggested she'd rather do literally anything else.

"I have an interview at nine o'clock. Lee Hana. For the junior interior designer position."

She typed something into her computer, her perfectly manicured nails clicking against the keys. "Ninth floor. Conference room B. You're..." she glanced at the clock on the wall, "two minutes late."

"I know, I had an accident on the way here, and..."

"Ninth floor," she repeated, already looking past me to the next person entering the lobby.

I hurried to the elevator, pressing the button about fifteen times as if that would make it arrive faster. When the doors finally opened, I stepped inside and caught sight of myself in the mirrored walls.

Definitely worse than I thought.

I tried to smooth down my hair, wiped at the smudged makeup, and attempted to position my bag to cover the worst of the coffee stain. It didn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

The elevator dinged at the ninth floor, and the doors opened to reveal a sleek hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows on one side. I could see all of Seoul spread out below, the morning sun glinting off countless buildings. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Conference room B was at the end of the hall. Through the glass walls, I could see three people sitting around a large table, waiting. My stomach twisted into knots.

I knocked softly before entering.

"Ms. Lee, please come in." A woman in her early thirties with short hair and sharp eyes gestured to the empty chair across from them. "I'm Choi Jiwon, head of design operations."

"I'm so sorry I'm late," I said, bowing deeply as I entered. "There was an incident on the way here, and..."

"Please, sit." Her expression was neutral, giving nothing away.

I sat down carefully, placing my portfolio folder on the table in front of me. The two other people at the table introduced themselves Park Minseok from human resources and Kim Yuna from the interior design department. They seemed nice enough, though both of them glanced at the coffee stain on my shirt with barely hidden curiosity.

"Before we begin," Jiwon said, opening a folder in front of her, "I want to apologize that our CEO won't be joining us today. He had an unexpected... wardrobe situation this morning and needed to change before his ten o'clock meeting."

Something about those words made my stomach drop, but I couldn't figure out why.

"Now, let's start with your portfolio. I see you graduated from Hongik University with a focus on sustainable interior design?"

I nodded, trying to push away the weird feeling of dread. "Yes, I'm particularly interested in how we can create beautiful spaces that also minimize environmental impact. I believe that"

I opened my portfolio folder, and my heart stopped.

The papers inside were a disaster. Coffee stains covered at least half of them. My carefully organized design sketches were out of order, crumpled at the edges. One of my best renderings had a footprint on it probably from when I'd scrambled to pick everything up off the sidewalk.

"I... um..." My face burned with embarrassment. "There was an accident this morning. I crashed into someone and spilled coffee everywhere, and my papers went flying, and..."

"Take your time," Yuna said kindly, though I could see the doubt forming in her eyes.

I tried to salvage what I could, pulling out the least damaged pieces and arranging them on the table. My hands were shaking. This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare.

"This is one of my projects from my final year," I said, pointing to a sketch that was only half coffee-stained. "It was a redesign of a traditional hanok, incorporating modern sustainable elements while maintaining the cultural integrity of the space."

Jiwon leaned forward, studying the sketch with interest. "The concept is solid, but the execution seems..." she paused, searching for the right word, "incomplete."

"That's just the preliminary sketch. I have the full rendering in here somewhere." I flipped through more papers, my panic growing with each coffee-stained sheet.

The interview continued for another twenty minutes, but I could feel it slipping away from me with each passing second. Every answer I gave felt wrong. Every design choice I'd made suddenly seemed amateurish under their scrutiny. The coffee stain on my shirt seemed to grow larger, more obvious, more unprofessional.

When it was finally over, Jiwon stood and extended her hand. "Thank you for coming in, Ms. Lee. We have several more candidates to interview, but we'll be in touch within the week."

That was code for "don't call us, we'll call you," which was code for "you definitely didn't get the job."

I bowed to all three of them, mumbling my thanks, and practically fled from the conference room.

The elevator ride down felt like a descent into failure. I'd worked so hard for this opportunity. I'd spent weeks preparing my portfolio, researching the company, practicing my answers to potential questions. And it had all fallen apart because I couldn't watch where I was walking.

Because of him. That cold, judgmental man in the expensive suit who couldn't even pretend to be understanding about an accident.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't watch where I was going when the elevator doors opened. I stepped forward and immediately collided with someone entering the lobby.

"I'm sorry!" I said automatically, looking up.

And froze.

It was him. The man from the coffee shop. Standing in the lobby of Minho Architecture & Design, wearing a fresh suit that probably cost as much as a small car. His dark eyes widened slightly in recognition before his expression returned to that same cold mask.

"You," he said, his voice flat.

"You," I echoed, my mind racing. What was he doing here? Did he work here? Was he a client?

Please don't let him be someone important, I prayed silently.

He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on the coffee stain his coffee on my shirt. Then, without another word, he stepped around me and headed toward the elevator.

I stood there, frozen, until Soyeon's call broke through my shock.

"How did it go?" her cheerful voice asked through the phone.

I watched the elevator doors close on the mysterious man's unreadable expression.

"It was a disaster," I whispered. "An absolute disaster."

End of Chapter 2

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