You stared at the blank screen.
The screen stared back.
A silent battle of wills.
“…Okay. Let’s do this.”
Step one was idea.
You had none. Absolutely nothing. A perfect start.
Grabbing your stylus, you hastily sketched out rough frames, hoping—praying—that Minseo wasn’t expecting something straight out of a Studio Ghibli film. Your storyboard was crude, but it laid out the basic sequence of movements. It was something.
This part wasn’t so bad. You blocked out rough movements, ignoring the choppiness for now. The keyframes were in place, the motion was... decent, and you were starting to think, Hey, maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
At first, everything was fine. The animation was moving smoothly, the character design was decent, and you were feeling a rare sense of accomplishment.
Then it happened.
Your software crashed.
You hadn’t saved.
You stared at the screen in horror as your entire progress vanished into the void of digital oblivion. Your soul physically left your body.
Panic. Despair. Betrayal.
Screaming—internally, maybe externally—you restarted. Again.
Three more hours passed. Your stomach grumbled in protest, your back ached from being hunched over, and your eyes burned from staring at the screen for too long. But the animation was finally coming together again. You could do this.
And then, because the universe apparently hated you, disaster struck once more.
Your stylus battery died.
Your coffee spilled on your notes.
You realized—after far too many hours of work—that one single frame was slightly off, completely ruining the flow of the entire animation.
You stared at the screen.
The screen stared back.
You seriously considered throwing yourself out of the window for dramatic effect.
Cue the mental breakdown.
“WHY DID I THINK I COULD DO THIS?”
“I’M JUST A GIRL. A STRESSED GIRL.”
“I HATE EVERYTHING.”
“I’M MOVING TO THE MOUNTAINS AND BECOMING A SHEEP HERDER.”
At some point, you ended up on the floor, sprawled out like a tragic movie heroine in the middle of an existential crisis.
And then—your phone buzzed.
Jimin: "Thinking of you. Hope you're okay."
Taehyung: "We miss you. No pressure, but hurry up and come back."
Yoongi: "You're capable idiot. Now c'mon do it."
You stared at the messages, your lip trembling slightly.
You inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and wiped your face.
Because if there was one thing you weren’t going to do, it was let some middle-aged animation boss with a superiority complex win.
With renewed determination, you dragged yourself back to your desk.
And somehow—somehow—you finished.
It wasn’t perfect, but considering the time limit and the sheer emotional suffering involved, it was a damn masterpiece.
The moment you hit save, you immediately saved again. And again. And again. You backed up the file in three different locations just in case the universe decided to mess with you one last time.
Your hands shook as you grabbed your phone and dialed Kiyo.
He picked up on the second ring. “Yo. You alive?”
“I did it.” Your voice was hoarse, exhausted, but victorious.
“…Seriously?” He sounded impressed. “No offense, but I thought you’d crack before finishing.”
“Oh, I did crack,” you admitted, rubbing your temples. “But then I put myself back together. Like a poorly glued vase.”
Kiyo burst out laughing. “Well, congrats. You survived. Now, let’s go meet your executioner.”
“…You mean Minseo?”
“Same thing.”
He didn’t even try to deny it.
Kiyo led you through the maze-like hallways of the office, making dramatic turns as if you were heading toward a final boss battle.
“Alright,” he said, stopping in front of a sleek, intimidating office door. “Deep breath. Walk in with confidence. If he doesn’t look impressed, just act like you own the place.”
You snorted. “You mean fake it till I make it?”
“Exactly. Now go in before you pass out from stress.”
You took one last breath and pushed open the door.
Minseo sat at his desk, fingers tapping against the polished surface as he eyed you like a disappointed father about to lecture his child.
“You finished?” he asked, his voice as flat as his expression.
You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Without a word, he held out a hand. You boldly slid your tablet across the desk. He raised a brow but said nothing as he clicked play.
The room fell silent.
You watched him closely, trying to read his expression.
He didn’t blink.
He didn’t frown.
He didn’t smirk.
For a solid minute, he just… watched.
You swallowed. Was that a good sign or a bad sign?
Then, finally—
Minseo smirked.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
Your soul re-entered your body.
“It’s cleaner than I expected for a rushed project. Your keyframes flow well, and you actually understand character movement,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I thought you’d break under pressure, but… you might actually have potential.”
…Did Minseo just compliment you? Was this real life?
“Uh—thank you?” you replied, still in mild shock.
“Don’t thank me yet.” He gave you a smug look. “You’re still far from being good enough to work under me. But at least I won’t regret hiring you.”
Wait.
“…Did you just say ‘hiring’?”
Minseo smirked. “Yes. This wasn’t just a test for orientation.”
Kiyo gasped dramatically behind you.
“You—” You pointed at him, betrayal clear in your eyes. “You knew?!”
He grinned sheepishly. “Would you have finished it if you knew?”
“…Probably not.”
Minseo chuckled. Chuckled. The man had emotions.
“You start officially when you move here. Get ready,” he said. “Because I don’t go easy on my team.”
Your heart soared.
You had done it. You passed. You actually—
“Now get out. I have work to do.”
Kiyo dragged you out of the office before you could process everything fully.
“That was insane,” he whispered as soon as the door shut behind you. “I have never—NEVER—seen Minseo smirk at an orientation test. You might actually be his favorite now.”
“…Do I want that?”
“Not really,” Kiyo laughed. “But hey, at least you survived.”
You checked your phone, fingers shaking as you typed:
You: "GUYS. I DID IT."
And within seconds, your notifications exploded.
Namjoon: "I knew you would. I’m proud of you."
Jin: "Good. Now come home. I miss my taste tester."
Hoseok: "LET’S GOOOOOO!!!"
Jungkook: "I never doubted you for a second. But also, I was really scared. But also, I knew it. But also, I was ready to fight Minseo."
Jimin: "Now celebrate. And by celebrate, I mean sleep."
Taehyung: "I told you you were amazing. Now go eat something before I get on a plane to force-feed you."
Yoongi: "Knew you had it in you. Don’t get too cocky though."
You smiled, exhaustion finally catching up to you.
You did it. You actually did it.
And this was only the beginning.
You thanked Kiyo one last time before heading out of the office building, finally letting yourself breathe. The exhaustion was catching up, but before heading back to the hotel, you needed something sweet to celebrate.
Which was how you ended up at a small, cozy bakery down the street, ordering a coffee and a pastry while internally weeping over the day you just had.
You grabbed your order—a steaming cup of coffee and a small pastry because you deserved this—and thanked the barista with a tired but satisfied smile. Just as you turned to find a seat, your phone buzzed.
Namjoon.
You smirked, knowing exactly what this was about before even answering.
The second you picked up, you heard, “OH MY GOD, BABY.”
You almost dropped your coffee. “Jesus, Joon, lower your voice, I’m in public—”
“NO, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND.” He shrieked. Actually shrieked. “I researched your soon-to-be satanic boss, and oh my god.”
You burst out laughing, already imagining him dramatically pacing his office, probably with his glasses slightly askew from the stress. “Namjoon, what do you mean by ‘satanic’?”
“I MEAN, HOW THE HELL DID YOU IMPRESS HIM?!” He sounded genuinely distressed. “Do you know how many horror stories there are about Minseo? Do you know that people who breathe wrong in his presence get fired?”
You snorted. “I was too tired to breathe at all, so maybe that helped.”
“No, seriously,” he continued. “This man once made a grown man cry because his character design was ‘too symmetrical.’”
You blinked. “…How is that even a bad thing?”
“I DON’T KNOW,” Namjoon wailed. “But apparently, it ‘lacked the essence of imperfection that breathes life into art.’”
You cackled. “Okay, that’s… actually kind of poetic. But still terrifying.”
“Oh, it gets worse,” he huffed. “Jimin told me that Minseo once stared at an intern for ten full minutes in complete silence before saying, ‘You don’t belong here,’ and the intern just quit on the spot.”
“WHAT?!” You nearly choked on your pastry. “That can’t be real.”
“IT’S IN A REDDIT THREAD. IT HAS TO BE REAL.”
You were wheezing. “Namjoon, you can’t trust everything on Reddit—”
“Oh, so you’re telling me the post titled ‘Minseo: Animation’s Final Boss’ is lying?”
You paused. “Okay, that’s an amazing title.”
“I KNOW.” He sighed deeply. “Baby, I was ready to start a protest. I was ready to fly over there and threaten him with urban planning laws.”
You choked. “Oh my god—”
“I WAS GOING TO DEMAND TO SEE HIS LAND PERMIT.”
Now you were full-on cry-laughing in the middle of the bakery. People were starting to stare, but you did not care.
After a moment of struggling to breathe, you wiped your eyes. “Joon, I love you, but please don’t pick a legal fight with my new boss.”
“…Fine,” he grumbled. “But if he so much as glares at you funny, I’m reporting him to the zoning commission.”
You giggled. “Deal.”
“Good. Now go eat something before you pass out,” he ordered. “And for god’s sake, sleep.”
You smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“Damn right.”
With that, you ended the call, still giggling as you picked up your coffee and walked outside.
The second you stepped into your cab, exhaustion finally hit you like a brick to the face. The day had been long—mentally, physically, and emotionally.
By the time you reached your hotel, you barely had enough energy to grab something light for supper. You flopped onto the bed, eating at the slowest pace known to mankind, your brain officially on airplane mode.
Your phone buzzed again. A message from Yoongi:
Yoongi: “If you don’t sleep in the next 30 minutes, I’m hacking into your hotel’s power grid and shutting off your internet.”
You snorted.
You: “Okay, Mr. Criminal Psychologist.”
Yoongi: “Good night, future industry legend.”
You smiled, setting your phone aside.
Finally, after a day of hell, victory, and Namjoon’s dramatics, you slipped under the covers and let sleep take over you.
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A/n- Lmao so basically, I messed up time zones—had no clue Japan and Korea run on the same clock. So if you saw me talking about time differences before (in prev chapters), just pretend it never happened :p