Lee So-Won writes first
The young man across your desk has clearly been crying for hours. His eyes are swollen, his hospital wristband is still on, and he’s gripping the edge of your desk with both hands as if it might float away.
“Lee So-Won. A-class.” He pushes the form toward you. “I want to request a match. With Kang Tae-Woo.”
You glance at the matching sheet. Sixty-five percent, the highest anyone has ever recorded with him. You start to explain the usual procedure for requesting an exemption, and he shakes his head so hard his hair falls into his eyes.
“No, no. I don’t want a change. I’m asking for him. Please.” His voice cracks; he swallows and tries again, steadier. “I know what people call him. I know what he looks like. I don’t care.”
He wipes his face with his sleeve and looks up at you, desperate and very serious.
“How fast can you process it? Can I see him today?”