"This guy carry weight o, one review and everywhere is bubbling."
The room was quiet, you could hear the soft clink of chopsticks against bowls. The low hum of the TV in the background that no one was really watching, the dining table was neatly set, you would think it was a dinner for ten considering the fact that the whole table was full, it was a feast. Jihoon sat acrosss his Father, Chairman Seo of Seo group, the biggest construction & real estate development companies in all of Korea.
His mother, Seo Bomin, pretends to focus on her rice, trying to ignore the painful silence on the table.
"I heard...actually I didn't have to hear..." he shook his head. "it's everywhere on the internet. You were working at some...place at Yeonnam-dong" Chairman Seo blurts out calmly, the hand holding the chopsticks hanging in the air, with an emotionless frown on his face.
"The African girl's restaurant" He finished, throwing a calm glare at Jihoon. "What exactly pushed you to do something like that?" He wanted to be done but the words kept coming out. "I mean it's baffles.."
"I was just trying to help, I was passing by and they were short staffed"
"Short staffed? And may I ask how any of that was supposed to be your business? You shouldn't be caught dead in that cheap skate of a restaurant" his father's look stiffened. He took a sip of water.
"She's a friend of mine" Jihoon casually said, pairing the kimchi with the beef rib wrapped in lettuce and stuffing it into his mouth. He didn't like to play with his dinner especially when it was beef ribs and japchae. It was always a way his mom told him she missed him and he should stay for dinner despite his loads of work.
"The black girl is your friend?.." Chairman Seo laughed dryly. "Someone like her is your...that's not even the point" he shook his head again while waving his hand. "You were supposed to be at the shareholders meeting with Park JEONG WOO!" He instantly yelled, making Jihoon's mom shake.
"She's just some foreign girl serving food in the backstreets obviously looking to sell her body too. Don't confuse pity with admiration...tsk tsk tsk" he finished then picked up his chopsticks again to scoop some rice.
Jihoon's chopsticks froze midway, the kimchi falling back on his plate. The tension had been shimmering but now it boils over.
"Jihoon?" His mom called calmly, giving him a pleading face to not make this into a bigger deal.
"What did you just say?" Jihoon spoke, his voice low and dangerously calm, looking over to his father slowly. He was trying to control his anger and not disrespect his mother but unfortunately his father's anger issues might just be the only thing he could get from him.
"You heard me, people like her co..."
The sound of Jihoon pushing back his chair loudly stopped Chairman Seo in his tracks, he dropped the chopsticks with a loud stud. His mother flinched "Jihoon please?"
"People like her?" Jihoon scoffed. "Looking to sell her body too?" He scoffed again. "You don't know her, you don't know the kind of fight she's been through just to be seen in this city, she's earning respect the hard way, even a blind person can see that."
"Mal goMJO JALHAE! (Mind your words)" his father yelled banging his hand on the dinning table. Once again Bomin shivered.
"You told me to respect hard work, I'm doing that even though you can't see it through your pride"
A tense silence spread across the table like dark cloud before a storm, heavy with so many unspoken words and the weight of things no one dared to say which maybe was the genesis of the real problem. "Mom I'm sorry" Jihoon grabbed his jacket from the chair and stormed out, head high and hands shaking.
*
"Kamsahamida" Amara bows with a tired smile on her lips as she gave the dispatch rider the last batch of food to be delivered.
It was barely closing time but she was already wiped.
She had planned to close for the day coz she had prepared over ten pots of different dishes and she had finally ran out of plantains. "Urggggghhhh these plantains can you like get to me already?" She fake cried as she walked back into her restaurant.
People were not only ordering plates of food, they were ordering food bowls in big quantities and Mi na still had an exam today, Amara was exhausted for working as her ass off and at the same time she couldn't believe such a time would come in her life after three years of opening her restaurant. It seemed like a miracle.
She adjusted the "break time" sign on her door immediately the last customer walked out then slowly walked back to her counter, taking off her apron and wiping her forehead with the back of her palm.
" I wish I could see him again and thank him, that guy carry weight o, one review and everywhere is bubbling, mommy needs to hear this.." she brought out her phone from her apron pocket "gosh I've been so busy to call" she mumbled to herself and she sprawled on one of the chairs, dropping her hair bonnet and letting her full Afro loose from its bondage "ah God, when will I see an affordable hairstylist?" She whined, while using her hand to play with her hair. "This last frontal I just removed has dealt with my front hair". She was struggling to find a stylist that could braid her hair but haven't had any luck yet, the one she found charged her times two the money she makes in her restaurant in a week. So she was stuck with wearing frontal wigs. Her usual hairstylist had travelled for a vacation and never in her life did she think she was gonna miss someone that she didn't love in that way.
Amara had tried to send the critic food so many times but the dispatch rider always brought it back saying his PA refuses to accept 'random gifts', she was always done with work late for her to go herself, and maybe she would have found some luck if she had gone herself.
The door jammed open slowly leaving the bell to make a small chime.
"Sorry we are on a..." she stopped in her tracks as the food critic was standing looking straight at her with a smile. Hands in his pocket.
"Did I come at the wrong time?" He walked in quietly, but the atmosphere shifted the moment he crossed the threshold. Not loud, not flashy_ just a subtle pause in movement, like the air itself recognized him.
Tall and wiry, the man had a composed elegance, dressed in a tailored dark trench coat that whispered old money and meticulous taste. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with care, and his sharp jawline carried a neatly trimmed beard, giving him the look of someone who didn't just eat food but judged it like art.
His eyes were the most intimidating feature_ dark, sharp, and searching, like he could taste a dish just by looking at it. Cold at first glance, but with a glimmer of something more, curiosity maybe. Or challenge.
In his hand, he held a slim leather notebook. No camera, just ink and memory.
And finally... he was back. She felt her heart lift in her chest. It was him. The kind critic whose words had turned her life around. For a moment, she simply stared, a surprised look plastered on her face, her Afro hair full like the singers in the 60s.
He walked past her and took a seat opposite the chair she was sitting, still looking at her as she stood there , almost lost of words. It was if he wasn't just here for food_ he was here to see if she had changed.
"I hear you've been trying to send me food" he said calmly, crossing his leg over the other and placing his notebook on the table. "You are doing great. I saw your reservation list for tomorrow, it's packed."
Amara quickly got her self and picked up her hair bonnet from the table and covered her Afro. She didn't like it when people saw it. They always asked her "is this real?" "Is this your hair?" "How's your hair like this?"
"It's been so busy and I wanted to say thank you for the free review, but I didn't know how to reach you" she breathed out like she was loosing her breathe.
He looked down for a second and looked up again, a sweet smile playing on his lips, "I love your hair" he licked his lips subconsciously " it's different and beautiful"
"Thank you," she looked down for a second. Apart from Mi na, that was the first time someone ever complimented her hair since she moved to Korea.
"Come sit" he finally said tapping the sit in front of him, noticing she didn't know if she should or not.
Glancing at her with a small almost smile, "your food is incredible, all I did was share it with more people"
Amara sitting for a moment, "I still can't believe it went viral" she whispered. Her stomach doing a happy flip, inside her heart swelled with gratitude. All the late nights, the worries about the rent. She looked around the quiet diner, remembering how it was full with guests, enjoying her cooking.
"I meant every word, most young chefs these days get lost trying to imitate trends, you did something different, you told the truth on a plate.
Nam joon smiled, leaning closer as if sharing a secret
"I knew there would be a full house once they tasted your passion" he said, looking around and looking back at her with a smile.
"I'm so proud of you" he breathed out again, the smell of fresh curry leaves floating in the air as a tray full of the leaves sat on her counter.
A beat of silence fell between them, a mutual respect hanging in the air. She looked up at him for the first time and their eyes met, not in the way strangers glance then politely turn away, but in the way to recognize something familiar in another. A flicker of surprise, then curiosity, then something unspoken, a whole conversation passed in silence. "So you do get me?"
"Of course I do."
And then a blink, a smile and the world resumed.
"Don't get too comfortable Miss Amara, growth is a moving target, keep chasing it"
Amara smiling more confident than before "I intend to" standing up, "what would you like to have?"
"I could swear I saw your jollof rice in my dream"
Her sweet laughter filled the room and she put on her apron and got to work.
"I have a new dish you would like"
He wiped his mouth and stood up, looking over at Amara who was leaning against her counter. He walked towards her.
"You said you didn't know how to reach me" he dips his hand into his leather jacket and brings out a card, drops it on the counter in front of Amara, "make sure you reach me this time" he finished with a smile, his voice low and warm like a promise wrapped in velvet.
"And Uh Amara?.."
"Yes" she looked up at him from the card she was looking at.
"The food was amazing"
She couldn't help the smile that came to her lips, not just a small smile, a smile big enough to light the whole room. She glanced at the card on her counter, then back at him_but he was already walking away, a smile playing on his face.
He didn't look back, he didn't need to. He hoped she would call.