Working for Kim Taehyung was like working for a marble statue. A really expensive, emotionally constipated statue. He was older, richer, and his suits probably cost more than your entire family’s house. He didn’t laugh, didn’t blink often, and smelled like cologne and danger.
And then there was you: the walking Wi-Fi glitch.
One morning, you stormed into his office with two different shoes on and said, “Sir, I have a report and a breakdown. Which one do you want first?”
He slowly removed his glasses. “Surprise me.”
You once called him “boss baby” by accident.
“Did you just call me… baby?” “NO. I said… uh... maybe. Like, ‘Maybe the report’s done.’” “Get out.” “Which part of the building? I just need to know how dramatic this exit should be.”
He once caught you sleeping at your desk with a half-eaten croissant in your mouth. He just walked away, whispering, “Unbelievable.”
He had strict rules:
No loud music.
No glitter in the office.
No emotional outbursts.
You broke all three in one day when you found out BTS might reunite.
He found you crying on the floor, surrounded by sparkles, yelling, “THEY’RE STILL SEVEN!”
He didn’t say a word. Just handed you tissues. And noise-canceling headphones.
One day, you tried to make him laugh. You wore a fake mustache to the morning meeting and said, “Bonjour, Mr. Kim. I am ze assistant of ze year.” He stared. The room went silent. Then—a snort. A REAL SNORT escaped him. Everyone gasped like they just saw Bigfoot flossing.
From that day on, things got... weirder.
You started catching him smiling when you tripped over the copier.
He actually complimented your coffee once. You checked the sky for pigs.
One night, you were late sending a file, so you texted:
“I’ll get it to you ASAP, boss. Unless I get hit by a chicken truck. Then it’s God’s plan.”
He replied:
“Don’t die. I need the report.”
Romance? Maybe. Respect? Kinda. Love? Possibly. Mental stability? None.
But you, chaotic assistant of the year, were slowly melting the coldest man in Seoul. And whether he admitted it or not… He wouldn’t survive a single day without your mess.