They are in the middle of a meeting.
Kevin stands at the front, presenting the sales report while the team sits around the table, eyes on the projector. Beside Mia, Ben leans forward slightly, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms resting on the table. His veins are visible—subtle but defined—each time he moves to write something down.
Mia shifts her gaze, trying not to linger, but her eyes drift back. She focuses on the back of his neck instead, noticing a small mole just below his hairline—something she somehow never caught before. Despite all the teasing and arguments, despite how often he gets under her skin, there are moments—small, fleeting ones—when his actions hint at something softer.
"Okay, everyone," Kevin says, clapping his hands. "Great job. Sales are up, and the CEO wants to treat us to dinner tonight."
The room bursts into applause. Mia blinks, snapping back to the present.
Ben leans in slightly, voice low and teasing. "Were you staring at me just now?"
Her face warms. "I wasn't."
"Sure." His smirk is quick, almost smug, and he doesn't even look at her fully when he says it.
She steals another glance at his forearm, then looks away quickly. This is getting dangerous. Her fingers tap against her notebook before she gives herself a small, discreet slap on the side of the head.
The restaurant is buzzing. Plates of grilled meat and seafood fill the long tables, along with half-empty bottles of soju and beer. Laughter bounces around the room, loud and uninhibited.
"Mr. Diaz, give us a speech!" someone shouts from another department.
A chorus follows. "Speech! Speech!"
Mr. Diaz, the CEO, rises with a proud smile, lifting his glass.
"Alright, alright," he says, pausing as the table quiets. "Let's celebrate the success of this month. We've outdone ourselves—surpassing the last few months by a mile. It's all thanks to your hard work and commitment. So tonight, let's eat, drink, and enjoy! Cheers, everyone!"
"CHEERS!" everyone echoes, lifting their glasses and clinking them together before drinking.
The soju burns as it goes down. Mia blinks, lightheaded. She leans toward Jella, voice soft.
"I need to go to the restroom."
"Hmm? Okayyy," Jella replies, her head already swaying.
Mia stands, the room tilting more than it should. Her balance falters slightly, a flush rising in her cheeks. Somewhere in the haze, she feels eyes—Kevin, Ben, maybe even Jack. But she walks on, ignoring them.
The cold water in the restroom shocks her system. She splashes her face and grips the sink, eyes glassy in the mirror. Her cheeks are too red, her movements a little too slow.
When she steps out, she nearly stumbles.
Someone's waiting.
Kevin leans against the wall, arms crossed, his black suit sharp under the hallway light. As soon as her eyes meet his, he pushes off the wall and walks toward her.
"You're drunk," he says, voice low and steady.
She straightens, trying to compose herself. "I'm not." The slight wobble in her voice betrays her.
"How are you going home in that state?" he asks, brows drawing together.
"I can manage myself," she mutters, brushing past him before anything more can be said. Her steps are unsteady, but she returns to her seat beside Jella without looking back.
Still, Kevin's stare lingers, heavy behind her.
Jella and Mia drink more than they should. The world blurs at the edges now, and both women sway quietly in their seats.
Jay crouches beside Jella, concern etched on his face.
"Come on, let's go. You're already drunk," he says gently.
But Jella waves him off, voice rising. "No! I don't want to leave Mia here alone!"
Heads turn. A few coworkers glance their way.
Jack approaches from the far end of the room. He kneels beside Mia's chair, his hand brushing lightly over her hair.
"Mia, let's go. I'll take you home."
She lights up when she sees him. "Jack!"
"Yes, it's me," he chuckles, lifting her arm over his shoulder and wrapping a steady arm around her waist.
"What would I do without you?" she murmurs as he helps her stand. "You're always rescuing me. You know I love you…"
He freezes briefly.
"…my friend," she finishes, her words slurring slightly.
He doesn't respond, but something in the silence tightens.
Just as they turn to leave, Kevin steps into their path.
"Secretary Dizon, can you please escort the CEO home?" His tone is clipped, his eyes on Jack.
Jack hesitates. "What about Mia?"
"I'll take care of her," Kevin replies without missing a beat.
He reaches toward her, his face too close, his hands too confident.
Startled, Mia recoils. She flinches and pushes him back—not hard, but enough to stumble into the seat behind her.
"AHH!"
"Are you okay?" Kevin asks, reaching again.
Before he can touch her, Ben appears.
"I'll take her," he says, voice firm and cutting through the noise.
He doesn't wait for approval. He grips her arm with careful strength and, without strain, lifts her onto his back.
The room goes quiet.
Ben moves forward with steady steps, not looking back. He carries her like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Kevin remains frozen, eyes locked on them as they leave.