"Ughhh," Jessi groaned, struggling to keep the box from slipping through her grasp as we attempted to move it from the storage room. The weight seemed to be a formidable challenge for her, but I found it manageable. "These boxes feel as heavy as if I were carrying a human corpse."

 

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her dramatic comment. "Come on, hold it up. The room is not that far, and don’t complain like a child. You're embarrassing yourself, especially considering your age."

 

"Oh, spare me," Jessi retorted. "I can't help it; it's so heavy. And just so you know, I'm not like you, casually lifting heavy things in the gym." She shot a disdainful glance at my physique and couldn't resist expressing her bitterness. "You have muscles, and I don't!"

 

As we continued our struggle with the box, beads of sweat formed on Jessi's forehead, and her strained breaths punctuated the air. The physical exertion was taking its toll on her, adding a layer of realism to her complaints. I couldn't deny the weight of the boxes, but I maintain my composure, attempting to encourage her to press on despite the challenging task at hand.

 

We successfully placed the box on the empty shelf in the storage room. Jessi released a satisfied sigh, collapsing onto the floor. She breathed heavily, wiping the perspiration from her face and neck. Drops of sweat glistened on her forehead, evidence of the physical strain she endured.

 

Leaning against the wall, I took a moment to unwind after the extensive walk we had undertaken. The exertion lingered in the air, and a sense of accomplishment settled over us as we caught our breaths.

 

"By the way," Jessi interjected seemingly out of nowhere, capturing my attention. She continued, "Have you heard the nasty rumors about the owner who owned this building?"

 

"Hmm, I don't," I replied, making an effort not to slur my words.

 

Jessi gave me an odd look. "Everybody here is talking about it."

 

A half-chuckle played on my lips, conveying an effortless nonchalance. "Who cares? It's not like it's my nature to snoop on people's business. It's not on my list."

 

"Wow," Jessi replied. "I cannot believe Rona was saying exactly the same about you."

 

Raising a single eyebrow, intrigued by what I’d heard about myself. "What about it? What did Rona say about me?"

 

Jessi squinted her eyes to the side, recalling Rona's words. "She just said that you’re very serious and some parts of you scream arrogance, like one of those executives running this company."

 

Chuckling, I settled beside Jessi. "Well, she's not wrong. When I was younger, people used to comment on how serious I am as a person." Leaning against the cold metal of a shelf, I stared blankly into the distance. Jessi was intently listening, awaiting my continuation. "Everyone has opinions about me that aren't true but they don't really know me. Instead of dealing with those kinds of people, I stopped minding my business when it comes to certain individuals."

 

"Oh," Jessi responded while nodding, indicating her understanding of my point. "So, that's why you look so serious at work whenever I see how you handle those girls."

 

I nodded, smiling. "Yeah."

 

"But," Jessi interjected, turning her head and letting out a sheepish smirk while I raised my eyebrow due to curiosity. "You're acting differently in front of Kirsten. Why is that? Did you fall–"

 

"No," I countered immediately. I knew how it ends, but I didn't want Jessi to entertain thoughts that weren't always true.

 

Jessi stared at me, not believing my response. "You're a liar, Y/N. Rona saw how you look at the girl. She said you look like you want to devour her entire existence."

 

Rolling my eyes, I stood up, brushing off the dust that clung to my pants. "Rona is just too nosy," I muttered. My gaze shifted to the door and thought of leaving this room. "Let’s go; I think Rona will freak out if we linger here any longer."

 

Jessi rose with a defeated sigh, a mischievous smirk still lingering on her lips as she glanced at Y/N, clearly aiming to further. She chuckled, saying, "Sure, sure, Y/N. I wouldn't be surprised if someday, you know, someday..."

 

I scoffed, shooting Jessi an annoyed look. "It's not gonna happen, buddy."

 

Leaving Jessi to her laughter in the storage room, I made my way to the practice room where the girls were diligently rehearsing for the upcoming shoot next week. It was only Tuesday, leaving them with just four days to prepare. They looked worn out and fatigued from the rigorous practice when we had left them alone earlier. I felt a sense of responsibility to ensure they were well taken care of.

 

As I entered the studio, the room echoed with the rhythmic sound of Kirsten's solo dance. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead as she practiced her choreography tirelessly. I couldn't help but admire her dedication; every movement was a testament to her passion for the art.

 

Observing her weariness, I decided to surprise her with a thoughtful gesture. Understanding that dancing burned a significant amount of calories, I realized the importance of replenishing her energy. I made a mental note to provide her with protein-rich foods to keep her energized and stave off hunger.

 

As I watched Kirsten, the Kiwi girl, her breath heavy and her body moving with each deliberate step, I couldn't help but be captivated. The dance seemed to flow from within her, a manifestation of emotions expressed through movement.

 

Lost in the moment, I admired the grace with which she moved. Her hips swayed gracefully, and every gesture seemed like a form of art, a dance of water in its most