I stare absentmindedly ahead in the elevator as I travel down to the ground floor to go and meet Yoonha outside for lunch. It's been a few days since his drunken confession, and two days of his AWOL childish behavior passed before he finally showed face to act like an adult once more. And like every other time, we never mentioned it again because this is what he does. Back into the swing of our ordinary lives, and it's brushed under the table as though it never happened and became just another absurd ritual in my life.
I've barely seen Jyeon all week as we're all so swamped in work with three new company investments to launch by the end of the month that's taking all our time. I've had an average of two hours sleep a night, missed so many meals from overtime, skipped lunch breaks that I've dropped a dress size. Hence my lunch date and making time to hang out with my little brother, forcing me to eat and take a break. He's the only one who ever seems to put me before everything else.
The noise outside the lobby pulls my attention, and I glance up as I walk towards the wall of glass doors, surprised by the crowds of people that seem to be milling right in front of our building. We're not a company that gets a lot of foot traffic given our area of expertise, so this is weird. My stomach sinks as I catch sight of some billboards being pulled to hold up, and many turn their backs to face out towards the road to assemble into a long line, spreading the width of our entrance.
It's a protest. The beginning of one anyway, and something we deal with every so often when a company fails, and we have to pull out our funding and cut our losses. I have a clue who these might be, yet there's nothing protesting will do for them. Their company went bankrupt, and no matter how hard we tried, we couldn't bring it out of the red despite their marketable product. We got in too late and got out just as fast.
They spent too many years concealing their mistakes and pulled in investors dishonestly when they knew they were going under. We uncovered a whole array of problems and pulled out our money before getting caught up in the legalities of many fraudulent practices that went on under the radar with their existing management. OLO wasn't responsible for its demise, but it's not what their factory workers were told. They publicly lied and tried to smear OLO in a campaign that we breached our contract and pulled funding because we merely changed our mind. We're still dealing with it via our legal department as we speak.
I push my hand into my pocket, put my car keys back, and march outside, signaling for security to follow me with a click of the fingers. Dressed in my cream wool overcoat, over a dark grey pantsuit and black boots, I stand tall and make my way right for the center men who seem to be directing the crowd. I have no patience for this shit, and it looks terrible for us to have any kind of protest on our own doorstep. The scandals can harm our stocks even if they're unfounded.
My burly band of black-suited security flank me and quickly and quietly spread behind the line of men while I tap an exceptionally well-built, lumberjack shirt-wearing man in a black beanie on the back. Lifting my chin, tucking my handbag under my arm, and putting on my business-like persona and stern expression.
"Can I help you? You're obstructing the main door of my company, and I can have you removed if you don't do so immediately." I point out, my tone is frosty with no intimidation whatsoever from dealing with these types of people. He towers over me, even facing the other way, smells like cigarettes and damp, pretty disgusting fabric.
He spins on me, and I'm faced with a bearded, giant bear of a man who looks down at me and sneers. His whole aura suggests he's the type to spend his private life in bars, playing pool, and shooting innocent wildlife in the name of fun. A typical low pay grade laborer with a lack of IQ who thinks this is how to save his job.
"And who are you?" He spits, eyeing me up and down as though I'm a secretary or someone unimportant because I'm female, and I take a moment to scan my eyes over the billboard sign he's holding against his lower body. I was right, and it's Futuro Cosmetica that went under two weeks ago due to their own internal issues. I exhale heavily and check my wristwatch to check how late I'm going to be to meet Yoonha. Sighing that this may take a while and traffic will also delay me.
"I'm the vice president of OLO, and this is my footpath. I suggest you all move along and find a nice field somewhere to whine about the unfairness of your company but be warned that anything slandering OLO and we'll take legal action. Consider this a polite request for you to up and move, and we won't do anything about this today." I sound as disinterested as I feel. We don't need to be courteous when it's this kind of protest. They're already breaching the law by obstructing a business.
"We ain't moving, girly. Not until your high and mighty pretty boy President Jyeon Park shows face and tells us how he's going to get our jobs back." He spits at his feet, vile thick phlegm that turns my stomach, missing my shoes by an inch, and I don't react even though I'm disgusted and grit my teeth at his show of disrespect.
"He'll say the exact same things I am, and he has no more ability to get your job back than I do. This is not an OLO issue; it's an FC issue, and your fight is with them. I suggest you go stand outside their HQ and not ours."
He starts laughing at me waves his hand in my face as though I'm talking another language, and he isn't interested in anything I have to say. He lifts his arm and waves it around to get the attention of fellow protestors, and I'm aware of some turning this way and pushing in slightly to form more of an arc facing our building instead of away. Eyes are coming my way, and some quiet down to listen.
"She says it's not their problem!" he yells out loud for them all to hear in a snarly tone and thumps his board on the ground so that I flinch. Many more of them follow suit and pound their boards too, creating a buzz of bangs and murmurs as their voices blend into one. I catch more security filing outside from the doors in my right line of vision and know that upstairs will have been notified of this going on by now.
"Bullshit!" he leans into my face and spits it out, so he almost grazes my nose, and I pull my face away and turn to the side to pat my mouth and nose in disgust. His breath stinks of stale booze and ash, and my stomach lurches as I fight the urge to gag.
"This is an illegal protest, and I asked nicely. Now it's not MY problem." I turn back to him and nod to the army of black-suited coming towards me. I smile salaciously as if to say I'm done here, and you'll regret it, as they begin to start shoving those on the ends and pushing, pulling, them out of line. A sweeping sea of suits against lumberjack shirts. The bear-man turns to me with an angry growl and snarls right into my face once more.
"We came expecting a fight, Girly. Just watch us." He laughs again, a hearty and arrogant noise like a bellowing animal, and I turn and nod to my escort that they should deal with this. Moving out of the way as my men collide with theirs, I skirt around them and head for the open end to get out of here and still meet my appointment time. There's no other way to deal with these types other than brute force, and I can guarantee the staff inside have already called the police to come break this up soon enough. I don't need to involve myself any further. There's nothing to negotiate as OLO is not at fault. It's not our problem.
I duck my head and dodge splaying arms of my men wresting with theirs and scoot by with a confident walk until I'm around them and on the other side of their human wall. I start looking for the car that I requested to be brought to the front door. Many vehicles are abandoned on the sidewalk haphazardly, of all makes, colors, and models, and it irritates me that they have congested the road. I'm guessing most are from them and clench my fists in anger while looking around to try and locate mine.
"Sohla, move." The raspy and urgent male shout comes at me from my left side, and before I can turn around and see who or where it came from, I'm yanked backward, spun into a warm body, and hugged in tight as I'm pulled sideways. A hand reaches over the top of my head, pushing me down in a crushing manner into the cocoon of his body, and covers my skull. At the same time, the black wool coat of my protector is pulled around me to conceal as much of my body as possible. Debris rains down on us from further back, and I squeal as I realize what's happening.
Bottles, boulders, cans, and a manner of hard and heavy objects fly around, over, and at us from all angles. Coming for people and the building, I'm overwhelmed in panic mode to find we're right in the epicenter, like a cyclone of weapons flicking around and smashing at our feet.
I cling onto my bodyguard, ducking my head, and close my eyes tight as he steers me and turns me to take the brunt of everything hitting us. Jerking with him and feeling the repercussions through him as he takes a battering and it pushes me into further terror. My body shakes, and my legs turn weak as I don't know what else to do, allowing him to move me in whatever direction he deems safest and trusting he'll protect me.