Hannah's POV

I was late.

That was the only thing on my mind as I frantically tried to push past the throngs of people on the ever-busy streets of New York.

Now don't get the wrong impression, I'm usually quite punctual. As a matter of fact, I've never been tardy for anything in my twenty-two years of living – at least not until today. 

And it honestly wasn't my fault.

My worthless excuse of a driver showed up late to work this morning. Apparently, he argued with his wife and she refused to let him leave on time, meaning I had to spend an hour waiting for someone to do the job I was literally paying them for.

Talk about pathetic.

When he finally showed up it was too late to avoid the usual New York morning rush hour. To cut the long story short, I ended up using the subway like an animal and he ended up with one more reason for his wife to leave him.

After about the hundredth frustrated sigh, I finally reached my destination – the Terrence Tower. 

The glass-covered skyscraper was the headquarters for Terrence Inc., which was one of the largest entertainment corporations in the world. They owned a whole chain of family-oriented brands and services, the biggest being their toy company Terrence Toys. 

They were a big name in the corporate world, which was why getting a job here was a huge deal to me. My career as a data analyst was made if I got accepted and I was one interview away from doing just that.

There was nothing that could stand in my way. Nothing at all.

Mustering every bit of confidence I had, I strutted into the looming tower like I owned the place – head high, eyes forward and hips swaying. The lobby which was lit by chandeliers wasn't crowded, but there were enough people for me to easily go unnoticed. 

The only thing is that I'm Hannah Umel Oba and I do NOT go unnoticed.

My attire proved this to be true – a bright red two-piece suit, a zebra print blouse and glossy red stilettos. For accessories, I had Chanel sunglasses and my favourite Rolex watch. 

I smirked to myself as several eyes turned to me, unable to resist sneaking a look. I whipped my hair for dramatic effect, causing a wave of whispers to erupt to my utmost pleasure.

They all cleared the way for me to walk through, assuming I was a VIP. They weren't wrong – I was a princess, after all.

With a spring in my step, I made it to the receptionist's desk where I got tons of envious glares as well as directions to the CEO's office. Being the person I am, I decided to take my sweet time walking to the elevator just to give everyone more time to stare. 

I was sweet like that.

But if I'd known what was coming next, I would've just used the stairs instead.

Just as I rounded the corner to the elevator doors, someone yelled something indecipherable behind me. Before I could turn to see what was going on, I was forcefully slammed to the ground. Awkwardly landing on my arm, I broke my watch in the process, while my body cushioned the fall of whoever assaulted me.

Still trying to recollect myself, I heard the sound of glass shattering close to where I lay. Pushing off my assailant, I sat up to find one of the lobby's chandeliers scattered to a million pieces barely two feet away. A horrified gasp escaped me as I realised how close I was to meeting God.

I certainly wasn't ready to do that.

All around gasps ensued and a small crowd formed around the scene, thankful I wasn't crushed yet puzzled by the situation. How on earth did that chandelier fall?

Still in shock, I didn't realize someone was calling me. "Miss? Are you okay?"

Looking up, I'm greeted by the face of the person whom I owe my life to. He's clearly of East Asian heritage, with pale skin and black hair. His worry-filled eyes are an identical colour to his hair. 

With an apologetic look, he offered his hand out to me, but I didn't take it. Instead, I gave him a once over, trying but failing to hide my judgement of his generic work attire – a no-brand sweater with a dress shirt and khaki pants. Overall, he was pretty average-looking and certainly not the kind of person I would normally associate with.

Picking myself up, I curtly replied, "I'm fine. Thank you for saving me."

Avoiding further conversation, I quickly turned to walk away, not giving him a chance to respond. However, he grabbed my arm. 

"Wait. Are you sure you aren't hurt? I think you should see a-"

"I said I'm fine!" I snarled, snatching my hand away. "Don't ever touch me without my permission again."

He seemed confused by my reaction but didn't bother prying. "I'm sorry," he said calmly, "I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I am, so you don't need to worry about it. My well-being isn't your concern."

Once again, I turned to leave but he called out to me, much to my annoyance. "Wait!"

"What now?" I spat angrily. "What do you want? A 'thank you' card? Or better yet would you like to replace my broken Rolex?"

Taken back by my outburst, he looked around awkwardly. "I just wanted to say you're welcome."

Huffing in annoyance, I rolled my eyes before strutting away and into the elevator. Everyone's eyes were on me as the door slowly closed, clearly disapproving of my treatment of the boy who just saved me. 

I couldn't care less.

 Before the door closed, someone muttered something along the lines of "ungrateful bitch". Scoffing, I glanced at the clock on the elevator wall and sighed in frustration.

Just great. I was really late.

-

Hwan's POV

That was weird.

At least that's the only way to describe what just happened. You would think saving someone's life meant they'd be nice to you, but clearly not everyone understands how politeness works.

Oh well.

After assuring all the onlookers of my well-being, I returned back to the receptionist's desk where I previously was. I'd been booking an appointment to see Dr Kennedy Terrence, the CEO of Terrence Inc. when I noticed one of the chandeliers randomly spinning on its own. When I looked closer I realized the metal chain holding it up was about to break and there was a lady walking unnaturally slowly right under it.

I didn't even think twice before rushing towards her, yelling for her to get out of the way. She didn't hear me and I had no choice but to push her out of the way, right before the chandelier came down.

Thankfully, I got to her in time or she would've become a flesh pancake.

 She didn't seem too happy about everything though.

"That was really brave of you," the receptionist said, cutting my thoughts. She was a petite lady with very dramatic eyeliner, but somehow she made it look good. "That lady would be dead if not for you. And yet she was so awfully rude to you. The nerve of rich people is something else."

I just shrug in response. "It's no big deal. Perhaps she was having a bad morning."

"Bad morning my foot. She's clearly one of those spoiled Manhattan girls who thinks they're better than everyone with their designer clothes and plastic bodies. I mean, the way she walked in here says it all. Ugly bitch."

Cringing at her use of a cuss word, I tried not to let my sensitivity show. I didn't want to continue the conversation because I'm not the gossiping type. I couldn't pass judgement on someone I barely knew. 

And in all honesty, the lady in question was far from being an 'ugly bitch'.

With flawless dark skin and chocolate brown eyes framed by long brown braids, she was at the very least a 'very beautiful bitch' if there ever was one.

"Anyway, when can I see Dr. Terrence?" I asked, trying to change the topic.

"What was your name again? J-Jung-hwa-hwan-"

Moaning internally as she butchered the pronunciation of my name, I corrected her. "It's Park-Lee Junghwan. Hwan for short."

"Sorry," she giggled, pushing her bangs out of the way. "I'm not really good with Chinese."

I'm South Korean but who cares, right?

Ignoring her uneducated generalization, I simply smiled. "So when can I go up?"

"Actually, your name is under VIP, Sir. You can see her now."

"Are you sure?" I asked, confused. "Did you spell it right?"

I glanced at her computer screen to make sure she did, and there wasn't any error in sight. I truly was listed under VIP clients much to my surprise.

"You may go up now, Sir. The VIP elevator is that way," the receptionist pointed toward a set of doors with a 'restricted area' above it. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Sir?"

I shook my head in response, bothered by the fact she was suddenly calling me 'Sir'. Thanking her for the directions, I turned to leave, but not before she slipped a piece of paper into my hand.

Opening it as I entered the elevator, I couldn't help the blush that immediately covered my cheeks. In cute cursive handwriting was her number and her name; Candy. Shaking my head, I folded the paper and put it in my pocket.

Today really was a weird day.