My Boss is a CHICKEN?!

"I just died and he canceled the funeral"

I announced dramatically, plopping into the cafeteria chair like a war survivor returning from the frontlines.

Across from me sat In-Young, Haewon, and Jin-ho— a.k.a. my workplace emotional support group, chaos edition.

"What happened?" In-Young leaned forward instantly, eyes sparkling with drama-thirst. "Did he bring up the Daejeon project?"

I nodded like a broken bobblehead. "He canceled it."

A gasp so unified left all three of them, it could've powered the building.

"I STAYED UP ALL NIGHT FOR THAT." I yelled like I was reciting a tragedy.

"My brain is mush. I look like a ghost in a blazer. I've aged fifteen years. My soul is floating somewhere in the ventilation system."

"Wait, what?! You pulled an all-nighter?"

In-Young blinked.

"Yes! I read two hundred and fifty files while surviving on three coffees and one sad banana! My eyeballs are held together with desperation and under-eye cream!"

"Did he say why he cancelled it?" Haewon asked, already unwrapping her snack like this was going to be a long tea session.

"Because he knew I wasn't capable!!" I slammed my hand on the table for emphasis.

Jin-ho leaned back in horror. "Wait. He insulted you and revoked your project in the same conversation?"

"In the same breath."

Haewon gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "Girl… do you want me to steal that giant pot from the lobby and drop it on his foot?"

"YES. But also no. But also yes."

"That pot's huge though" Jin-ho added helpfully. "Might need backup. Should I bring the office trolley?"

"I'll drive the getaway cart" In-Young chimed in.

We all nodded solemnly, bonding over hypothetical assault like true office besties.

"For real though" Jin-ho muttered, "Mr. Jeon is getting on my nerves now. The way he walks around like he owns the place."

"HE DOES OWN THE PLACE" I yelled. "That's what makes it worse!"

"I swear he was born in a conference room" In-Young said, sipping her iced tea. "Probably came out of the womb holding a laser pointer and a quarterly report."

"His first words were probably 'you're fired'" Haewon added.

"I bet his baby photos had captions like 'evaluating growth trends in the womb.'"

We all broke into laughter, probably too loud for a workplace but not enough to get officially reprimanded.

"But seriously" I said, dragging a fry through my ketchup like it was the blood of my enemies, "I was so close to presenting something decent. All that effort for nothing."

"I can't believe he cancelled a whole project just because of your summary" Jin-ho said, wide-eyed.

"Correction" I said. "He cancelled it because he assumed I wouldn't finish. Not because I didn't." I whined while covering my face with my palms.

"That's illegal workplace fortune-telling" Haewon said. "I'm calling HR."

"HE IS THE HR" I reminded her, dramatically collapsing face-first into my tray. "We are in a dictatorship."

"Honestly Mira, you need a revenge arc" In-Young said, flipping open her notebook like a mafia strategist. "Step one: you spill coffee on his desk, then—"

Suddenly—

BUZZZZZZZ.

My phone vibrated violently on the cafeteria table like it was trying to escape the conversation. I glanced at the screen, expecting spam, doom, or a reminder that I had forgotten yet another deadline.

Instead…

Caller ID: Mr. Junghyun.

Wait.

MR. JEON'S DAD?!

My soul physically left my body.

My heart turned into a bullet train going 500 miles per hour, destination: Cardiac Arrest Central.

Why was he calling me?

To tell me he'd filed a trespassing complaint because I broke into their mansion that one night to yell at his son and accidentally saw him transforming into a chicken?

"Hold on—one sec guys" I told the trio of gossip gremlins (a.k.a. Haewon, In-Young, and Jin-ho), who were too busy dragging Mr. Jeon's entire bloodline to notice my soul leaving my body.

Clutching my phone like it was my last will, I walked out of the buzzing cafeteria and into the quiet hallway, my heels clicking with the same intensity as my spiraling thoughts.

I picked up.

"…Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Kim! I'm Junghyun."

Yup. Confirmed. It's Father Jeon himself. I braced for impact.

"Y-yeah, sir, I remember."

OF COURSE I REMEMBER.

You caught me dangling from your bonsai like Tarzan during a full-blown chicken transformation scandal.

He chuckled warmly. "Haha, I told you—no formalities! Just call me Junghyun."

Just call you Junghyun?

Sir, my boss is literally a walking HR violation in Armani, and you're asking me to pretend we're on first-name basis like we're co-stars in a rom-com?

I gave him my best Oscar-worthy voice. "But that's disrespectful, sir… calling elders by their name."

Wow. Who is she?! Miss Respect 2025?

Mira, since when did you start acting like you read moral science books before bed?

He laughed again, like I just told him the cutest joke. "Then just call me uncle!"

I paused.

Uncle.

UNCLE?!

Why does this feel like I've just been adopted by my boss's family without consent?

"Uh…" I gulped. "Only if you call me by my name too then."

There was a dramatic pause—

Was I crossing a line?

"…Mira it is then" he said, amused. "That's better."

"Haha… sounds good…"

Sounds like a trap, Mira, but okay.

Then came the part that shattered my soul:

"Did I disturb you during work hours? Is that rascal still torturing you?"

RA…RAS…WHAT?!

My mouth opened. My eyes filled.

Sir, please don't be this kind. It's emotionally confusing.

If I say yes, I risk becoming the lead actress in a family feud.

If I say no, I'm protecting the tyrant who once rejected my entire 18-page report because I used Arial instead of Calibri.

"…No no" I lied with a voice that deserved a Grammy. "The workload is… comparably low."

LIES. LIES I TELL TO SURVIVE.

"Ah, good to hear…" He sighed in relief. "That boy has no people skills. I tried raising him with hugs and bedtime stories, but he turned into a stock market Terminator."

I choked back a laugh. Did he just say Terminator?!

"He's not that bad" I said.

Another lie. Why am I like this?

"Good to hear. He's always been a little strict. Even as a kid, he used to organize his Lego blocks by color and alphabet."

Alphabet?!

What kind of demon baby alphabetizes Legos?

I choked. "Haha… childhood trauma for everyone, I see."

"I always tell him he needs to loosen up. But you know that boy—born with a spreadsheet in his hand and caffeine in his veins."

"Sounds… accurate" I said, pressing a hand over my face to hide the spiraling expression that was probably scaring nearby plants.

"You remind me of someone" he said suddenly.

I perked up, expecting something casual like "my dog" or "a young chicken I raised once."

"My non-existent daughter" he said, his voice soft. "I've always wanted a daughter like you."

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice, for emotional support.

Sir… what?!

My throat tightened like it suddenly forgot how to swallow.

I gulped. "Oh… that's… wow… that's really… sweet…"

He sighed contently. "If I had a daughter, I'd want her to be exactly like you. Smart, sincere, and just the right amount of feisty."

My brain was already spiraling.. Should I send him a Father's Day card now?

"Don't let him stress you out too much. You seem like a smart girl. Just give him a hard time back when he deserves it."

HUH?!

SIR, I'M FRAGILE. STOP BEING NICE TO ME. I MIGHT CRY.

And I am trying to survive, not start a rebellion against your son.

"Thank you, Uncle" I said anyway, blinking rapidly at the hallway wall.

"Alright then. I just wanted to say hi. Don't tell Jaehyuk I called, he'll say I'm interfering again."

You are, sir. But in the most adorable and chaotic way possible.

"Secret's safe with me" I said like we were in an actual spy movie.

"Anyways, Let's catch up soon. Maybe over lunch? You, me, no evil CEOs."

Did… did he just invite me to lunch? Like a casual friend hangout?

"Oh! I'd love to!" I said, momentarily forgetting who I was and what timeline this is.

"Great! I'll message you. Take care, Mira."

"You too, uncle"

He hung up.

The call ended.

Silence.

I stared at my phone wondering what just happened.

Did I just adopt a second dad?

To be honest, that was surprisingly wholesome…

Maybe the Jeons aren't so terrifying after all—

…

My phone buzzed again.

Who now?

It was a notification.

I opened it.

New message: Mr. Jeon

"Coffee. Black. No sugar. 11:10."

I stared at it.

I'm not even his secretary anymore. WHY am I still fetching his stupid bean juice?!

I messaged back:

"Respectfully sir, I'm not your assistant anymore"

He replied within five seconds.

"Respectfully, I don't care. 11:10."

I screamed internally.

If I ever snap and pour hot espresso over someone's keyboard, tell the jury this was my villain origin story.