Y/N-

I stood in the grand lobby of KTH Enterprise, clutching my portfolio as if it could somehow contain the flurry of nerves twisting in my stomach. The building was sleek and modern, all glass walls and polished marble, buzzing with the quiet efficiency of a well-oiled machine. This place exuded professionalism and success, making me feel both excited and intimidated.

I had prepared for this interview endlessly—rehearsed my answers, reviewed my accomplishments, and researched KTH Enterprise inside and out. But none of that was helping the anxiety that now gnawed at me, threatening to break down the composure I'd so carefully built up.

I took a deep breath, trying to remind myself why I was here. This was my chance to make a real impact, to learn and grow under one of the industry's top companies. But the thought of meeting Kim Taehyung again made it feel as if the stakes had doubled. Since I'd submitted my application, I'd heard he would be conducting the interviews himself, and that had only made the anxiety worse.

It wasn't that I didn't admire him—I did. He was known as a visionary, a leader whose presence commanded respect. But after that brief, awkward encounter at the party, where I'd accidentally bumped into him and fled, I worried he might remember me as "that girl who couldn't get out of his way."

As I approached the reception desk, I took a deep breath, doing my best to push those thoughts aside.

The receptionist, a cheerful woman with a bright smile, looked up at me. "Good morning! You must be here for the internship interviews?"

"Yes, I am," I replied, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt. "Could you tell me where to go?"

"Of course! The interviews are taking place on the fifteenth floor in the main conference room. Just take the elevator to your right," she said, pointing helpfully.

"Thank you." I nodded, offering a quick smile.

"Oh, and," she added, leaning in as if to share a secret, "Mr. Kim Taehyung himself will be conducting the interviews. It's quite a rare opportunity to meet him one-on-one."

I managed to thank her, but inside, my nerves kicked into high gear. I took a steadying breath, turning towards the elevator and willing myself to stay calm. I kept reminding myself that this was a chance to show my worth, to make an impression based on my skills and dedication—not my anxiety.

The elevator ride felt endless. I adjusted my portfolio, glanced down at my outfit to make sure I looked professional, and mentally reviewed everything I'd prepared for. When the elevator doors opened on the fifteenth floor, I found myself facing a sleek hallway that led to a set of glass doors. Beyond them, I could see the main conference room. I walked through, my footsteps sounding loud against the polished floor.

Inside, a few candidates sat waiting, each of them radiating their own mix of nerves and determination. I took a seat, clutching my portfolio tightly and glancing around. Moments later, Minji—the assistant I remembered from the party—appeared with a clipboard in hand.

"Park Y/n?" she called out, her expression warm but professional.

I stood, giving her a polite nod. "Yes, that's me."

"Mr. Kim will see you now," she said, motioning toward the conference room door. I could feel my heart pounding as I followed her, stepping into the room with all the courage I could summon.

Taehyung was seated at the far end of a long, elegant conference table, his gaze already focused intently on me as I entered. He looked the same as I remembered: composed, focused, with a quiet intensity that somehow made the room feel both calm and charged at the same time. His eyes were sharp, assessing me with a professional air, but there was something else there too—an unspoken familiarity, as if he recognized me from our previous encounter.

"Miss Park," he greeted, his tone formal but polite. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you, Mr. Kim," I managed, carefully taking the seat across from him and setting my portfolio down. I glanced up, meeting his gaze, and felt a strange jolt of familiarity. This was the same person I had admired from afar, a figure I'd known only by reputation, and yet here he was, only a few feet away, considering me as a candidate for his company.

"So, Y/n," he began, glancing down at the notes in front of him, "I see you've completed your studies in business with a focus on marketing and project management. Impressive work."

I nodded, feeling my confidence returning, if only slightly. "Yes, I just finished my final exams, and I'm eager to gain experience in a real-world environment. KTH Enterprise has always been a company I admire, particularly for its innovative approach."

His expression remained unreadable, but I thought I caught a flicker of interest. "Innovation is something we value deeply here. What motivates you to pursue an internship with us, specifically?"

I took a breath, reminding myself of the answer I'd practiced. "I want to learn from the best, to be part of a team that doesn't just follow trends but sets them. I believe KTH Enterprise offers that environment, and I want to contribute to projects that challenge me. I also admire how the company's success is rooted in a strong sense of leadership, and I want to be part of an organization that values both growth and integrity."

He listened intently, his gaze never leaving mine. For a moment, I wondered if he saw through my rehearsed answer, if he knew how much effort I'd put into preparing for this. But his expression remained steady, his focus unwavering.

"Integrity," he repeated thoughtfully. "It's a quality I believe is essential in business—and in life. Can you give me an example of a time when you had to rely on integrity over convenience?"

His question took me by surprise, but I quickly gathered my thoughts, remembering a recent project I'd led in university where I'd chosen to stick to ethical practices despite pressure to take a shortcut. As I described the experience, I felt my nerves start to fade. This was my story, my moment to show him who I was beyond the profile in his hand.

When I finished, he nodded, seeming pleased. "Thank you for your honesty, Y/n. We appreciate candidates who understand the importance of principles."

He asked a few more questions, each one thoughtful and precise, and I did my best to answer each one with the same sincerity. Throughout the interview, he remained calm and professional, but there was a softness in his gaze, an openness that made me feel seen.

Finally, he closed the file in front of him, giving me a nod. "Thank you, Miss Park. We'll be in touch soon."

I stood, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. "Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Kim. It's an honor to be considered."

As I turned to leave, I thought I saw the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, a brief flash of something that wasn't quite as formal as the rest of our conversation had been. I couldn't help but wonder if he remembered me from the party, if the quick moment we'd shared had left an impression on him too.

Stepping out of the conference room, I felt a wave of emotions wash over me. Despite my initial nerves, the interview had gone well. I had done my best to present my true self, to show him the dedication and integrity I brought with me. Now, all that was left was to wait—and to hope.

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TAEHYUNG-

The day of interviews was already exhausting, and I'd only met with a handful of candidates. One after another, they filed in, each bringing polished resumes, rehearsed answers, and occasionally a glimmer of genuine ambition. But despite the qualifications of these students, my mind kept drifting back to one name on the list.

"Park Y/n."

I had tried to shake the memory of her from the party—a fleeting encounter that had somehow embedded itself in my mind. She'd barely spoken a few words, only a rushed apology, and yet there was something undeniably magnetic about her presence. When her name had shown up on the shortlist for this year's interns, I'd been tempted to dismiss it, to avoid any potential distractions. But professionalism won out, and I convinced myself that it was nothing more than curiosity.

After a long afternoon, my assistant Minji finally led her into the room. I watched as she walked in, shoulders squared and eyes focused but carrying a slight nervousness. She looked different here, more composed than when we'd met at the party. But even in her professional attire, that same spark was there—a quiet determination tempered by a hint of softness.

"Miss Park," I greeted, gesturing to the seat across from me. Her voice was calm, though I noticed her fingers gripping her portfolio tightly as she thanked me and took her seat. A quick scan of her resume told me what I already knew—she was well-qualified, a dedicated student with an impressive academic record. But what intrigued me most wasn't on paper.

"So, Y/n," I began, allowing my curiosity to guide the conversation, "I see you've completed your studies in business with a focus on marketing and project management. Impressive work." 

She gave a small nod, her voice steady. "Yes, I just finished my final exams, and I'm eager to gain experience in a real-world environment. KTH Enterprise has always been a company I admire, particularly for its innovative approach." 

Something about the sincerity in her tone caught my attention. It wasn't rehearsed ambition; she was genuinely interested. I allowed myself a slight nod, continuing with the questions I'd prepared, though with her, I felt compelled to dig a bit deeper." What motivates you to pursue an internship with us, specifically?" 

Her response was thoughtful, layered with ambition but grounded in respect for the values I'd built this company upon. She spoke about growth, innovation, and integrity in a way that felt authentic. I found myself listening more intently than I had with any other candidate that day, aware of a strange, nagging desire to learn who she was beyond the answers she'd prepared. 

"Integrity," I repeated, letting the word sink in. "It's a quality I believe is essential in business—and in life. Can you give me an example of a time when you had to rely on integrity over convenience?" The question was something I often asked to gauge character, but this time, I found myself leaning in slightly, genuinely curious. Her eyes flickered with surprise, but she quickly gathered her thoughts, recounting a project she'd led where she'd prioritized ethics over shortcuts. She spoke of it honestly, admitting it had been a challenge but that she'd stood by her values. I couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for her, admiring her quiet strength. She had a perspective that felt fresh, unjaded.

While I often encountered candidates who would say anything to make a good impression, Y/n spoke with a sincerity that was... refreshing. Her answers to the following questions were equally thoughtful, each response reflecting a desire to contribute, to grow, and, more than anything, to work with integrity. I knew that even if our paths hadn't crossed before, she would have stood out on her own. 

When the interview came to a close, I closed her file and gave her a small nod. "Thank you, Miss Park. We'll be in touch soon." She stood, her posture slightly more relaxed than when she had entered. "Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Kim. It's an honor to be considered." As she turned to leave, I found myself watching her a moment longer than necessary, catching the faintest hint of a smile before she exited the room.

She hadn't recognized our previous encounter, which was both a relief and somehow disappointing. And yet, seeing her now, hearing her thoughts on what she wanted from this career, I was reminded why she had lingered in my mind. As she walked out, the door closing softly behind her, I felt the familiar weight of duty settle back onto my shoulders. She was just one of the many candidates, I reminded myself—a promising one, yes, but nothing more. Yet, despite my rational mind's attempts to keep things strictly professional, I couldn't shake the feeling that our meeting was more than coincidence.

Her name, her face, her earnest responses—they all remained with me, a reminder of something unexpected, something that had broken through the walls I'd so carefully built around myself. Pushing those thoughts aside, I reached for the next candidate's file, trying to refocus. But as the day continued, I couldn't help but feel a strange anticipation, a curiosity that lingered long after she had left. And in that moment, I knew that no matter how hard I tried, forgetting Park Y/n would be far more difficult than I'd ever anticipated.

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