The rented hall had this soft music playing, along with laughter and the sound of glasses clinking together. It felt alive in a quiet way. Long tables covered in white linens were set up in a U shape around a little stage. That stage had fresh flowers on it, nothing fancy. Fairy lights dangled from the ceiling, throwing a warm golden light over everything. The employees were there, all dressed up semi-formal like. It doesn't happen often for the whole company to gather in one spot. And even less often do they actually relax, I mean really let loose a bit.
Tonight was a celebration of marriage—Team Leader Park from Operations had finally tied the knot after postponing for two years. Park wasn't just a competent manager; he was one of those rare figures who could cross departmental boundaries with genuine goodwill. He remembered birthdays, bought late-shift snacks without being asked, and made time for people when it wasn't convenient. That kind of reputation pulled everyone in. So while the event technically belonged to Operations, half the building had shown up, including Strategic Planning and Market Research.
It was the kind of night when titles loosened, office politics stayed at the door, and people let themselves laugh freely.
Minjae hung back by the drinks table. He held a wine glass, mostly just because that's what you do at these things. Not that he was really into it. He'd already said congrats to Park, swapped a couple words with the ops folks. Now he just watched. Eyes moving over the crowd, taking in how people drifted in and out. You know, the whole back and forth. To everyone else, he probably seemed distant. Kind of standoffish. But really, that's how he was wired. Spotting the patterns in things, noting what people said, figuring out the beat of all those little chats. Like pulling together these hidden lines that connected everything.
"Didn't expect you to actually show up to this," came a familiar voice.
He turned to find Yura standing beside him in a midnight blue dress that caught the light whenever she moved. The dress was simple, yet the confidence she wore it with drew the eye. She held a glass of champagne, her smile tilted somewhere between teasing and genuine.
Not far behind her, Yuri and Seori followed with drinks in hand. The three of them moved in sync without meaning to, orbiting toward Minjae as if tethered.
"I was invited," Minjae said, voice low. "And team events are technically within my responsibilities now."
"Since your promotion, you mean?" Seori smiled as she stepped closer, her shoulder brushing his lightly in the crowded space. She wore a pale pink dress, understated but warm, reflecting her own nature. "You're practically a senior manager now. One day, you'll be the one giving speeches at weddings."
"I'd rather avoid that fate," Minjae murmured, swirling the untouched wine in his glass.
Yuri chuckled softly, the sound calm and almost too knowing. "Why? Maybe it'll be your wedding."
The remark landed like a stone tossed into still water. Minjae paused, the ripples carrying outward in silence. He didn't answer, and in that gap, Yura slid in smoothly.
"Well," she said, smirking as she nudged Seori, "if it is his wedding, which of us should wear white first?"
"Clearly me," Seori shot back without hesitation, cheeks already coloring. "I've known him the longest."
"Length doesn't always win," Yura countered, lifting her chin. "Sometimes insight matters more."
"Both of you are too loud," Yuri muttered, though her ears betrayed her with a faint flush. She glanced around nervously. "Can't we joke about this when there aren't ten people within earshot?"
They didn't know it, but somebody really had been paying attention. This young guy from accounting, the fresh-faced type all eager and stuck in the wrong spot, he was right there behind a partition. Balancing some fruit punch on a tray. The second he heard wedding tied to Minjae's name, he just froze up. Eyes going wide like that, ears perked up straining to catch every bit. And when he finally ducked back into the crowd, his face was burning bright red.
By the time dessert trays rolled out, the rumor had already sprouted wings.
---
The hall buzzed with quiet murmurs beneath the surface noise of celebration. Near the dessert table, two employees leaned close over plates of macarons.
"I heard it's Seori," one whispered. "She's always with him. Everyone in HR knows."
"No, no," another replied, shaking their head. "Someone from Marketing swears Yura called him her type. And she's bold enough to mean it."
"You're both wrong," a third chimed in, swiping a pastry. "It's Yuri. She's the one who's always watching out for him. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."
"Noticed what?"
"The way she hovers. Like she's already thought three steps ahead."
By the time the cake was cut, a small betting pool had materialized. Nothing official, nothing written down beyond a few napkins scrawled with names and numbers. But laughter followed wherever the whispers spread, and someone even joked about starting an odds board.
The funniest part was that none of the trio had the slightest clue.
---
Minjae picked up on it, though. He wasn't the type to miss stuff like that. Those weird chuckles from the junior folks, the ones they swapped when they thought no one was listening. Sideways looks coming right at him. And those quick laughs that just didn't fit with whatever else was going on in their conversations. His eyes narrowed for a second. He scanned the whole room. Could've pushed back on it, made a thing out of it if he'd felt like it. But he just dropped it in the end.
Office rumors came and went like weather. They burned hot, cooled fast, and usually left little behind. So long as no one crossed a line, he had no reason to intervene.
Still, when Seori returned to their corner carrying a slice of cake, his sigh was quieter than usual. She set it gently on his plate without asking.
"I figured you wouldn't get one for yourself," she said with a smile.
"I'm not particularly fond of sweets," Minjae replied.
"I know," she said softly, eyes crinkling as if she'd prepared for that exact answer. "But you used to eat them anyway, when people gave them to you."
Yura leaned across the table with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "He's being spoiled now. I want a turn next."
"You already had your turn," Yuri pointed out dryly, though the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. "I saw you pouring his drink earlier."
"That was hydration. This is affection," Yura shot back, lips curving into a grin.
"Affection doesn't need theatrics," Yuri countered.
Seori only laughed quietly, though her hand lingered on the edge of Minjae's plate.
Minjae just let that banter roll right over him. His face stayed blank. But inside, his chest felt a whole lot lighter than it had been all week. People kept whispering stuff behind their backs, whatever. And those silly odds scribbled on napkins across the hall, total nonsense. Still, this group around him didn't change. They stuck around, loyal like always. Entangled in his life in ways that seemed impossible sometimes.
He wasn't sure yet what to do with all the affection they threw his way. Didn't know which path he'd pick, or even if he could let himself pick one at all. It was complicated.
But the night kept going on and on. Their laughter wrapped around him, soft and warm. And that's when Minjae got it.
For once, he didn't feel like he had to push everything so far away.