Dongha's eyes twitched.
A line had been crossed. He hated this kind of interference — it was why he'd ignored every mention of the company's open recruitment.
But this time, he needed to do what his brother asked.
"Got it," he said quietly.
On the other end, Yoon Tae-young chuckled, a low rumble from his throat — surprised that his usually headstrong little brother was being this obedient.
Dongha only frowned, the awkwardness tightening between his brows.
"I'll stop by soon," he muttered.
— "Come for lunch this weekend. I'll tell your sister-in-law to cook something special."
"Sure."
The line clicked off.
A few strands of his soft fringe fell over his forehead. He brushed them back with long, clean fingers. Beneath that pale, sharp brow, his violet-tinged eyes gleamed faintly with life — and something restless.
Internship starts next week.
But he already had two choreography projects in progress, plus his dance crew. At twenty-one, he was young, but his work had been chosen by industry clients — making him, unofficially, the crew's leader.
There were plenty who wanted to dance, but few who could. And even fewer who could do it well.
Faces of local and international dancers flashed through his mind. A shortlist formed.
Cost wasn't a problem — he could cover it from his own commissions.
It was his one chance to work with Yoojin.
"Hah. I probably look like a stalker right now," he murmured.
At a red light, he took his hands off the wheel and scrubbed his face. But as he remembered last weekend — waiting near the university library just to see her — his eyes glinted with a quiet thrill.
He hadn't even known finals were over. He'd waited at the wrong library twice before realizing there were three on campus. The place was massive. Even striding through parking lots on his long legs, the hours slipped away.
And yet, here he was again. Monday morning. Parked by the main gate. Scanning faces as students streamed past.
He didn't have the time for this — but he couldn't stop. Something in him chased her blindly.
Then, at last, he saw her.
Bright eyes. Small, delicate nose. Lips soft as breath. Her steps were light and sure, her posture straight.
Yoojin.
Dongha's heart kicked. He flung the car door open — almost called her name — but stopped himself.
Instead, he walked toward her, slow, deliberate strides holding back the impulse to run.
The reunion had been sweet. Even with an interruption.
At least now he knew — she'd been accepted into Samho Group's open recruitment.
Still, he wondered.
Why am I chasing her like this? What do I even want to do when I see her?
Traffic crawled. His eyes darkened.
Then, unbidden, he saw her again — her long hair fluttering in the autumn breeze, her round forehead catching the light.
"Just once," he whispered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tight.
"Dance with me."
The air shifted. His gaze sharpened — the predator's edge behind his calm face.
*
The last week of October vanished in a blur.
Yoojin barely had time to breathe — final projects, reports, and her friend Seryun, who insisted on spending every spare night drinking.
Most people celebrated job offers with friends.
Yoojin had only one — but Seryeon had the stamina of ten.
They hit every spot: the "chicken pub," the "beef soju joint," the "pancake house," and the "street stall," as Seryeon fondly called them all.
By the weekend, Yoojin's mother flew in from Jeju.
Time to transform her bookish daughter into a working woman.
Until now, Yoojin had lived in oversized tees, sweatpants, and sneakers.
But no intern could show up to Samho Group looking like that.
"Yoojin, you look gorgeous!"
Her mother, Lee Ji-sun, clapped her hands in delight as her daughter stepped out of the fitting room in a tailored suit — sleek lines hugging her dancer's frame.
"Sweetheart, your twenties go by fast. Enjoy them. Dress up, wear makeup — don't waste this time."
Yoojin froze for a second.
She remembered the luxury clothes she'd worn in her previous life.
Designer dresses chosen by Choi Hyun-oh's taste, not hers.
The hair, the makeup — everything crafted to his liking.
She'd been nothing more than his expensive doll.
A shiver ran through her.
She no longer wanted that life.
But this was different. This was survival.
She had to blend in — to protect herself within a corporate world that could easily devour her.
So she let her mother fuss over her.
The result was stunning — white blouse, fitted blazer, pencil skirt.
Her long neck, straight posture, and dancer's legs made the clothes come alive.
"Isn't this too tight?" she asked, glancing at her reflection.
"Oh, no, miss! That's the standard fit," the clerk chirped. "See? It's even a little loose at the waist!"
"Sweetheart, this is how a proper suit should fit," her mother added.
In the end, Yoojin gave in.
The excited staff brought her outfit after outfit — until her small apartment closet could barely hold them all.
And just like that, the first week of November arrived — her first day at Samho Group.
The grand auditorium buzzed with new employees.
"Hello, hello, hello! I'm Kim Joon-ho, Head of HR for Samho Group's 15th Open Recruitment!"
The middle-aged man on stage — glasses, ordinary face, a tie flapping wildly — shouted so loudly his voice cracked.
Even more shocking: the man sitting right beside her.
Yoon Dong-ha, wearing a pale gray suit and a dark navy tie.
Dongha, in a tie?
She could hardly believe her eyes.
That shade of gray could look cheap on most men — the "silver sardine" color, as people joked — but on him, the fine fabric shimmered. His sculpted build made even corporate formality look cinematic.
He really joined the company? As an office worker?
She'd heard it a week ago and still hadn't believed it.
Yet here he was, calm and radiant in the morning light.
She'd arrived early, waiting with Seo-hee, her senior. Dongha was nowhere in sight — until he suddenly appeared, cheerful as ever, sliding into the seat beside her.
Seo-hee ended up next to him instead, glaring daggers.
That wolfish grin… she thought, watching him.
Dongha only smiled, glancing down at Yoojin, quiet and confident.
Then, at exactly ten o'clock, the HR manager's voice boomed again — loud enough to shake the hall.
Even Dongha, who rarely showed emotion, blinked in disbelief. The man on stage was red-faced, shouting his own name as if it were a battle cry.
After the uproar, Kim Joon-ho cleared his throat, trying to recover.
"Congratulations on joining Samho Group, one of the pillars of the Korean economy for sixty years! The shouting earlier — yes, that's our tradition. It's a symbolic ritual. You scream your student life away and are reborn as a professional adult!"
Groans rippled through the audience.
The veterans in the front rows watched, amused.
Yoojin clasped her hands.
Do we really have to do that tonight?
The HR head grinned.
"Even on Blinder — you know, that anonymous office community — nobody complains about it! So let's just say, it's a once-in-a-lifetime experience!"
A few chuckles broke out. The tension in the room eased.
"From this year, Samho Group is launching a full onboarding program to help new recruits adapt quickly to corporate life."
Onboarding program?
Yoojin tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes.