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Excuse Me, Miss

Give Him A Chance

Claire was furiously making notes when Minho set a sandwich in front of her. “Thanks,” she muttered, grabbing the sandwich and taking a large bite, “though I could've gotten it myself.”

“I've seen you go an entire day without eating,” Minho said, leaning on the table. “Someone's got to feed you.”

“Thanks Mom,” she mumbled.

Minho laughed. “What crisis are you dealing with today?” he asked, sitting beside her.

“We need to reshoot your scenes, but it's been raining for three days straight. If we don't do it soon-”

“I see,” Minho interrupted. “Maybe this is a good thing.”

Claire looked up at him incredulously. “How so?” she asked sarcastically.

“You can't do anything else until the rain lets up. Why don't you take advantage of the delay to relax a little?”

Claire shook her head. “I can't, I've got to call about shooting locations for the village scenes, arrange transport for my-”

“No you don't,” Minho said firmly. “That's intern work. You're the DP, you're entitled to a few breaks.”

“It's a nice thought, but I really can't,” she said firmly. “I'll see you later.”

She scooped up her things and left the cafeteria, still holding her sandwich in one hand. Maybe Minho's right. Maybe I deserve a little break.

She slung her satchel over her shoulder, only to hear an ominous snap! as her satchel tumbled to the floor and her belongings scattered across the hallway. She looked at the frayed strap and sighed loudly, then shoved her sandwich into her jacket pocket and started gathering her things.

“Let me help,” said a voice, and someone knelt beside her on the floor. Claire barely glanced up. “I can do it, thanks,” she said shortly.

The person laughed. “Minho said you were independent.”

Claire gave him another look. “Oh, it's you,” she mumbled. Kibum raised an eyebrow. “Is being me a bad thing?” he asked cheekily.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Great, another wise guy,” she muttered. Kibum didn't reply, though Claire saw him hide a smile. “Let me do this. You eat your sandwich.”

“I don't-”

“Have to do everything, I quite agree,” Kibum finished smoothly, stacking papers methodically. “Relax, I'm almost done.”

Claire straightened up as Kibum swept the last of her belongings into a neat pile. He stood up, tucking the pile into the crook of his arm. “I can carry this to wherever you're going,” he offered.
Claire wanted to refuse, but her satchel was ruined and she couldn't carry everything. “Fine,” she said shortly, jerking her head. “This way.”

They walked down the hall in silence, Claire lost in thought as she finished her sandwich. She could hear the faint drumming of rain on the roof and she frowned. I didn't come all this way to be beaten by rain, she promised herself.

“Claire?”

“Yeah?” she said distantly. She blinked several times before turning to Kibum. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Kibum shifted the pile in his arms. “I asked if you've had a chance to see much of the area. I know you haven't been in Korea long.”

Claire shrugged. “I've been too busy to sightsee. I'm sure you understand.”

They arrived at Claire's office and Claire opened the door, holding it for Kibum. “You can put that on the desk,” she directed, tossing the destroyed satchel into a chair. Kibum set the pile down and took a long look around. It annoyed Claire, the way he leaned on her desk like he was settling in for an intimate conversation, but he did seem genuinely interested in the room.
“What's that?” he asked, pointing to a picture on the wall. Claire walked over to it. “New York,” she replied, folding her arms. “My brother and I took that the day our first show was approved.”

“What happened? To your show, I mean.”

Claire folded her arms. “It was cancelled,” she said abruptly. “I keep that picture to remind myself what failure feels like.” Tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed hard. “I have work to do,” she said shortly. Kibum went to the door. “You know,” he said, one hand on the doorknob, “you shouldn't surround yourself with bad memories. It's unlucky.”

“I find it motivating.”

“Really?” Kibum asked, turning to look at her. “For what?”

“Excellence.”

Kibum raised his eyebrows. “Losing your show must've been difficult.”

“Thanks for carrying my stuff,” Claire said, putting a hand on the door, “but I really should get to my work.”

“Anytime,” Kibum said, bowing slightly before leaving the room. Claire closed the door behind him and looked back at the picture. A fresh wave of shame hit her, along with the familiar need to build something better. Never again, she vowed, going to her desk.


******


The rain let up that night and the sun dawned on a soggy world the following morning. Claire wasted no time and began mobilizing her crew the moment she walked in the door. “Where we at, Philip?” she asked, walking rapidly down the hallway.

“Crews two and four are already en route to the set, while crew three is waiting for us to join them.”

Claire nodded and sipped her coffee. “Good. I just need a few things from my-” she opened the door to her office and paused, causing Philip to bump into her. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Claire ignored him and went to her desk. Propped up in the center of the desk was a gleaming leather satchel with a bright pink bow tied around it. Its brass finishings caught the light warmly, shining like little beacons from the dark leather.

Claire heard Philip give a low whistle. “That's a nice bag,” he commented. “Is there a note?”

Claire checked her desk. “No,” she replied. “Though I could guess who it's from.”

Philip hesitated. “It is a really nice bag,” he repeated.

“I can see that,” Claire snapped, “but you know I can't keep it.”

“It's a satchel, not a diamond necklace!” Philip countered. “And Kibum isn't like-”

“Don't say his name!” Claire hissed. “You swore you'd never say it.”

Philip raised his hands placatingly. “You're right, I'm sorry.”

Claire turned back to the satchel. “And how do you know it's Kibum?” she asked. “It could've just as easily been Minho.”

“I… uh…” Philip checked his watch. “We'd better get going if we don't want to get behind schedule.” He walked over to the desk, picked up the satchel and pulled off the bow. “What are you doing?!” Claire demanded.

“You need a satchel, and regardless of who gave it to you it's still a nice gesture,” Philip said, opening the satchel briskly. “It would be rude to send it back.”

Claire hesitated. It is a really nice satchel, she admitted to herself, running a hand over the buffed leather. “Okay,” she agreed, “but this doesn't mean anything.”

"Of course not,” Philip said, nodding enthusiastically.


******


Minho tugged at the sleeve of his costume absently as he stared out across the mountains, the sun slowly turning them bright gold as it ascended.

“Don't you look splendid,” Kibum commented. Minho turned around. “And you,” he said, nodding at Kibum’s sand-colored robes. “You're the perfect lackey.”

Kibum shoved him playfully. “When do you think Claire will get here?” he asked. “Do you think she liked the satchel?”

Minho nodded. “I do, but I'm not sure that she'll keep it.”

“Why not?”

Minho shrugged. “She doesn't let people in very easily,” he replied. “I think it has something to do with her last show.”

“In New York?” Kibum asked. “She talked about it a little yesterday.”

“Really?” Minho perked up. “What did she say?”

“Just that it was cancelled and it motivates her to be better,” Kibum replied. “It was hard for her to talk about.”

“Don't press her about it,” Minho cautioned. “She has a tendency to yell at curious people.”

Kibum straightened up quickly. “That's her car,” he said, nudging him. They watched the car pull in and Claire climbed out, new satchel slung over her shoulder. Kibum gave Minho a triumphant look before jogging over to her. “Good morning,” he chirped. “Nice bag.”

Claire's cheeks pinked slightly. “A gift left on my desk this morning,” she said lightly. “Let's have a look at you.”

Kibum did a full turn and Claire nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Looks like Jessica was able to make the original robes work.” She brushed by him and took the steps two at a time up to the palace set.


******


“Hey Minho,” Claire said, directing her crews with quick gestures.

“I see you've got a new accessory today,” he commented.

“You or him?” she asked in a low voice.

“Both of us, actually, though it was his idea.”

She took a step towards him, keeping her eyes on the crew below. “Does he have a crush on me?”

Minho was taken aback by the direct question and scrambled for a response. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he said finally, pretending to study his sleeve.

“I wasn't born yesterday,” Claire said, pulling a notebook out of her bag. “Talk him out of it, will you?”

“If Kibum liked you, and I'm not saying he does,” Minho replied, “maybe you should give him a chance.”

“I'm out of chances,” she said shortly. “Let's move, people!”


******


Claire watched the screen carefully. “Pan right,” she whispered into her headset. The cameraman obeyed, panning to show Minho standing on an ornate balcony. “Camera two, ready on Kibum.”

Another camera showed Kibum walking out and joining Minho on the balcony. “Camera three go,” she said. Minho started talking in a low voice as the camera switched to a front view.

“Nice satchel,” Kyle commented softly. “We're in the middle of a scene,” Claire reminded him.

“Camera two, zoom in slightly.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Does it matter?” Claire replied shortly.

“It does if it came from one of them,” Kyle said, pointing at Kibum and Minho on the screen. Claire shrugged. “So what if it did?” she muttered. “My old one broke.”

“You have no business accepting gifts from them.”

“And you have no business prying into my life!” Claire spat, “Especially in the middle of filming.” She pulled her headset down. “If you have a problem, save it for when we're not trying to rescue our careers,” she whispered. Kyle folded his arms and looked back at the set. “Cut,” he called. “Nice work. Let's do the garden scene.”

As the crew shuffled around lights and equipment Kyle put his hand on Claire's shoulder. “I'm not trying to pry,” he whispered, “I'm trying to protect you.”

“I learned my lesson in New York, Kyle,” Claire retorted. “You don't have to keep tabs on me.”
She waved Philip over and handed him her headset. “The battery is low, see if you can find another one,” she instructed. Kyle walked away wordlessly and Philip raised his eyebrows. “Something up?” he asked. Claire shook her head. “He's just being a pain,” she mumbled.
“Grab me a water on your way back, would you?”

“You got it, boss,” Philip said, disappearing into the chaos. Claire sighed and closed her eyes, trying to regain some sense of equanimity.

“Claire.”

So much for that, she thought, opening her eyes. “Need something?” she asked briskly.

“Is everything okay?” Minho asked. “You looked upset earlier.”

“I'm fine,” she said, checking her clipboard. “You should focus more on the people in your scenes than the people behind them.”

Minho glanced over at Kyle. “Your brother seemed angry. Did we-”

“No,” Claire interrupted. “My brother and I argue a lot, and it rarely has anything to do with you.”

Minho grinned. “So I do come up, then?” he asked cheekily. Claire rolled her eyes. “Go by makeup, your powder's flaking,” she ordered, giving him a light shove as she turned away.

Kyle and his stupid male pride is going to ruin everything one of these days, she thought to herself.

Notes

Comments

Minho's and Claire's friendship is going smoothly, I just don't want Kibum to 'mess it up', I hope it works out for all 3 of them as friends. :)

@asterisk
Thank you!! It's gonna be fun to write. I've got some other stories planned, so keep your eyes peeled lol

I love this so much already! I'm looking forward to where the story goes, and what happens to Minho and Clare :) Keep writing - I love your work <3

asterisk asterisk
3/8/17