New Normal - Chapter 13

Jisoo stared blankly out the window. Outside, she could see other staff chatting as they headed home for the day. Just then, the sharp sound of heels echoed down the hallway. She stiffened, straightening her back and turning toward the door. But the footsteps just passed by and faded away. No one even cared she was in there.

“Yeah. Fine. I’ll just use this time to work on my dissertation or something. Maybe it’s not so bad. It’s like a study room… or a tiny research office…”

Trying to shake off the gloom, she started unpacking her things. She cleaned, wiped, and organized every corner to distract herself. But the empty office felt like it was swallowing her whole. Only the ticking of the wall clock scratched at her ears, steady and merciless. She let out a sigh.

After that whole forgery scandal, her dream felt even further away. Her plan had been to hold on at the museum for a while, then move into a university job — but forget that. At this rate, she’d probably be shoved out before she could do anything about it.

Why is living like this so hard?

When she went from her master’s to her PhD, her academic advisor had changed too. Her old advisor didn’t have any real clout, and her current one, Cha Eunhye, was newly appointed and barely managing to hold her own position in the academic world.

Honestly, that was just how things were. People like Jisoo — smart but replaceable — were everywhere now. There were way too many of them, but only a handful of spots. Becoming a professor felt about as realistic as plucking a star from the sky.

Donate a fat chunk to the department, pray for an older professor to retire or die — those were the grim options. Once you choose this path, the choices narrow to almost nothing.

Lost in her heavy thoughts, Jisoo sniffled and rubbed her nose.

“Should I just give up?”

Since high school, when she’d first started prepping for art college, all the way to her PhD — art had been Jisoo’s half-life partner, something she both loved and hated. She’d get so sick of it she wanted to walk away without a second glance, yet at the same time, she dreamed of doing this kind of work until the day she died. It was such an irony.

She let out another deep sigh at the mess of her reality — then felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She hurried to pull it out, but it was just a spam text. Realizing how disappointed she was by that made her let out a hollow laugh.

What am I even hoping for when I’m thinking about giving it all up?

As she dropped her eyes, a stack of papers on her desk caught her attention. The letters RSTA stuck out oddly, bothering her for some reason. Her heart started pounding, uneasily. She rifled through the papers scattered on the desk.

Buried among unfamiliar names and contacts, she found one name that looked faintly familiar.

Architectural Design Advisor — RSTA First Design Division, Section Chief Chae Juwon (Private Architecture)

Jisoo’s eyes froze on the man’s name.

“What the hell?”

Her fingertips trembled slightly. Not long ago, she’d been hoping to never get tangled up with him again…

“I told you, there’s something about that guy that’s tied to your big misfortune,” her friend’s words echoed in her head, sending a chill down her spine.

A strange sense of dread seeped in. Her palm, gripping her phone, was damp with sweat. Holding her breath, Jisoo scrolled down through her call history. She matched the personal number on the paper with the one in her log — and let out a frustrated sigh.

Chae Juwon.

“I’m not really into rushing things. But if Shin Jisoo asks for help, I’m more than willing to help anytime.”

He’d said that, frowning a little but still showing off that dimple of his.

“Shin Jisoo, it’s me. Chae Juwon. How’s that Africa trip planning going? It’s nothing big, but are you free this week? If you are, I’d like to have dinner with you.”

So light, so casual — not a shred of sincerity in his voice.

“What I’m saying is, this is powerful enough to change the whole situation. The real point is you, Shin Jisoo — you need to have the eyes to recognize a ‘benefactor’ when you see one. Miss it, and the chance is gone. Got it?”

That Shaman Seok’s cryptic words still messed with her mind, making her doubt herself all over again.

“So you’re Jisoo? I’ve heard a lot about you from my father. Nice to finally meet you.”

And that goal of hers — she had to become a professor, no matter what.

It was pure instinct. Something told her that this man might have a key, a lead, a way out she couldn’t yet see. A faint, reckless hope stirred inside her.

“Well… nothing to lose anyway.”

Ironically, remembering that man’s shy smile, Jisoo picked up her phone. She opened the messenger window where she’d saved Chae Juwon’s number. She hesitated for a long while, just staring at it — then her fingers finally moved and she hit call. Even in that short moment, her heart was pounding like crazy.

After a few rings, his tired voice came through.

“Hello?”

“Seok Teacher, it’s Shin Jisoo. I’m sorry for calling so late. Do you have a moment to talk right now?”

Maybe — just maybe — this really was the signal of some new hope. That man, Chae Juwon.

2. Anti-romantic

The clock’s hour hand pointed exactly at eight. The computer in front of him said 20:00 too. Nine to six — that was the official work time, but for Park Jongmin, an ordinary office worker who only ever dreamed of leaving on time, “leaving work” was just wishful thinking.

His eyes, wrecked from staring at blueprints all day, looked bruised more than blue now. He was hunched over like a turtle, neck stretched out, but sat up straighter with a sigh.

This was the RSTA Architects building in Samseong-dong — specifically, the 7th floor where the First Design Division was located. One or two people here and there were packing up to leave, chairs scraping back. But for Jongmin and the rest of the First Design Division’s Team 2, going home didn’t exist tonight.

They had a revised sketch for the Hansong Cultural Foundation project that had to be submitted to the contractor tonight.

“Chief, one second please.”

It was about two hours before quitting time when it happened. Chae Juwon, the head of Team 2, came straight over to Jongmin’s desk after checking the CAD file they’d shared on the cloud.

“We need to redo the window placement on the east facade. Adjust it to get the most daylight possible. Do a sunlight simulation for permanent shadows, double-check the building spacing, and review the site setback and slant height restrictions too. Oh, and since the museum site’s in a natural scenery protection zone, there’s probably a regulation on the roof slope angle. Look that up and adjust the roof design too.”

He was so sharp and thorough that everyone had long accepted he was the kind of boss who’d make you bite your tongue.

When Chae Juwon first joined as the head of Team 2 two years ago, there were rumors all over RSTA that he was just a parachute hire. His rank was way too high for his age and years of experience. He looked sleek, tall, polished — with this weird bad-boy vibe that made people even more suspicious.

Sure, he had a stacked portfolio from working under Richard Rothstein, the Pritzker Prize-winning architect, but in this industry, it was unheard of for someone in their early thirties to be a team head at one of the country’s top two firms.

Everyone wondered: Who’s backing this guy? Did he fake his portfolio? That was the first impression. And even if he held a Korean architect license, his career was mostly overseas, so naturally, people thought he wouldn’t know local regulations well.

But all those nasty rumors vanished fast. The neighborhood facility he handled right after he joined won the Seoul Architecture Award that year. Right after that, he landed the huge Toscana Resort project — construction cost alone was over 300 billion won, with design fees close to 10 billion — and he wrapped that up successfully too.

Maybe it was his fierce competitiveness, but the way he worked and the results he produced made it impossible for the execs not to keep him close.

Anyway, if Jongmin wanted to apply that genius boss’s feedback tonight, there was no way he’d be going home on time.

Over the photo of his adorable daughter on his phone background, his wife’s message popped up. When are you coming home? the same old message.

Like someone clocking in all over again just when everyone else was clocking out, the brilliant boss dumped the new tasks and casually stepped outside for a smoke.

Another late night…

Thinking of the boss’s annoyingly perfect face, Jongmin let out a long sigh. He stared down at the floor plan in front of him, cursing silently. Bastard. Son of a— Of course, the target of his swearing was the one and only Chae Juwon.

“Team Lead, I’m heading out now.”

Why did his desk have to be right by the door? Jongmin forced a gentle smile at Lee Yunhyeong, a designer from another team he was close with, who was pausing by his seat.

“Yeah. Get home safe.”

“It’s already eight… You’re not done yet?”

“Nah. I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

Seeing Jongmin nod so weakly, Yunhyeong looked at him with pity.

“Don’t rest when you’re dead — just rest after you submit the proposal.”

That familiar low voice cut in. Jongmin immediately straightened up, his spine snapping straight like a soldier at roll call. All the other half-asleep team members perked up too, fixing their eyes on their monitors and pretending to look busy.

Yunhyeong had already vanished without a sound after giving Chae Juwon a quick bow.

Chae Juwon came striding over to Jongmin, carrying a faint smell of cigarette smoke. He ran a hand through his neatly styled hair, pushing it off his forehead — Today, he looked even sharper than usual in a light blue-gray blazer and beige chinos. But his face? Cold as ice.

One look at his boss’s sour expression sent a chill down Jongmin’s spine.