UNLIKELY MATCH | HEESEUNG

6 - Cat-astrophic Encounters

HEESEUNG'S POV

I didn't get an ounce of sleep last night. My mind was too busy racing with thoughts of the upcoming meeting and the absurdity of the arranged marriage and before I knew it, the sun was already peeking over the horizon. The world was waking up, but I felt like I was still trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

Dragging myself out of bed, I stumble into the kitchen, the events of the previous day replaying in my mind like a broken record. The cat is nowhere to be seen, probably off exploring the house or maybe I won't see it again. The thought makes me feel strangely uneasy and I find myself looking for it around the house, almost hoping to catch a glimpse of its sleek black fur or piercing yellow eyes. "Where the fuck are you..." I mutter, scratching the back of my neck as I scan the rooms. Until I find it curled up in a corner of the living room, its eyes closed in what appears to be a peaceful slumber.

Relief washes over me and I smile a little, taking my phone out to click a quick picture of the cat. But then it wakes up, stretching as if it had the best nap of its life. Well, glad one of us had a good sleep. The cat approaches me and I crouch down, letting its fur under my fingers. There's something oddly calming about the rhythmic motion of petting the cat, and I wonder if the world sent it to me as a way to tell me to shut the fuck up and slow down. 

"Am I supposed to give you a name?" I mutter, again to myself, but why the hell am I talking to a cat? Nevertheless, the idea of giving it a name lingers in my mind and I wonder if it's even a female or a male. I never thought that there'd come a day when I'd raise a cat's tail and check its gender, but here I am, so invested in this strange creature's presence. Oh shit, it's a female. I quickly look around in embarrassment as if someone caught me doing something inappropriate. It's just a cat, for fuck's sake. "So you're a lady. What should I call you?" I ask the cat, half-expecting it to answer me with a meow or a flick of its tail. Of course, it doesn't. 

"How about Raven?" I suggest, testing out the name. She cocks her head to the side, as if considering the name, before simply returning to her grooming without a care in the world. I take her lack of objection as a sign of acceptance. "Raven it is, then, considering you have the demeanor of one." 

With Raven now officially named, I head back to the kitchen and make myself a strong cup of coffee, hoping it will be enough to jolt me awake from the fog of exhaustion and anxiety that clings to me like a heavy cloak. As I sip the hot liquid, I glance at the clock, realizing that the meeting with my potential sponsor is just hours away. Fuck it, I need to get myself together.

While Raven drinks the milk I added to her bowl, I walk into my room and change into a sharp black suit, not bothering to wear a tie as I let the first few buttons of my shirt remain open. Raven follows me with a curious gaze as I move around the room, grabbing my car keys and briefly glancing at the mirror to make sure I don't look like a complete wreck. The suit fits well, but the exhaustion in my eyes tells a different story. I glance one last time at Raven and give her a half-smile. "Wish me luck, Raven," I mutter, reminding myself to get her cat food when I get back. I'm secretly hoping she doesn't start tearing up the furniture while I'm away.

"Come in," The boss's voice rings out as I knock on the door, the sound muffled by the heavy wood. With a deep breath, I turn the knob and step into the room. He's sitting on his expensive sofa, which he never fails to mention is imported from Italy, along with a man I haven't seen before. Is this my sponsor? My future father-in-law? I would have scoffed if they weren't staring at me, but all I find myself doing is bowing politely before taking a seat. The boss introduces the man as Mr. Kang, the CEO of a major corporation that's been considering sponsoring Ferrari for the upcoming season, confirming my suspicions. This is the man who holds the key to my racing career and, apparently, the father of my future wife.