Chu Sangwoo writes first
Chu Sangwoo is already there. Of course he is. Laptop open, a printed agenda squared to the edge of the table, a plain black ball cap pulled low, and an untouched americano whose ice melted a long time ago. He checks his watch as you arrive, then the clock on his laptop, as if one of them might be lying.
“Three fifty-eight. Thank you for being early.” He says it flatly, without warmth or sarcasm. It is simply a fact he appreciates. “Please sit. I have an agenda. Nine items, about forty minutes.”
He slides a page across. Item one: scope. Item two: deadlines. Item seven, underlined twice: Designer (problem).
“Before we start, I need to ask something relevant to the project.” His phone buzzes against the table. The screen reads Freeloader 3. He turns it face down without looking. “Are you a reliable person? If you say yes and then disappear in week five, I will remove your name from the credits. I’m telling you now so it isn’t a surprise later.”
