Haeun tried to focus.
She really did.
But her mind refused to cooperate with her.
Seo Minho has a girlfriend?
The thought came out of nowhere, but once it lodged in her brain, it refused to leave. Of course he does. A guy like him always does. But then why is he—
She shook her head furiously. No, no, no. She wasn't going to think about this.
Except she couldn't stop.
Why can't I avoid him? He's suddenly everywhere. In the kitchen. In the hallway. Breathing the same air as me. Is this campus not big enough?
She had successfully spent her first three semesters completely under the radar. Away from trouble. Away from him.
Why was this happening now?
Her stomach twisted, and a more horrifying thought struck her.
Wait… did he recognize me as the waitress?
Her pulse jumped.
But then she replayed the way he smirked at her earlier, the way he spoke to her with that irritatingly cocky confidence.
No. If he did, he wouldn't talk like that. He would hold it over my head. He hasn't realized.
Relief came… followed immediately by irritation.
Arghhhhh why is this my life?
"Steaming dumplings, coming right up!" Eunchae's bubbly voiced put a halt to Haeun's raging thoughts, and she realized the egg she was frying was almost burnt.
"Aish!" Haeun screamed and quickly took the pan of the cooker.
Thankfully, it wasn't completely ruined. The edges were crispy, but not charred, so she slid it neatly onto a plate and quickly added it to the steaming bowl of bibimbap she was preparing. She let out a small sigh of relief. That was a close call.
It was already past 8 p.m., the usual rush hour winding down. She carried the tray to table four, forcing a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Eunchae raised an eyebrow the second Haeun returned behind the counter. "Unni, you're not focused today," she said, her voice full of concern but also tinged with amusement.
"Yeah," Another worker named Garam added as he wiped down a table nearby. "You almost set the egg on fire."
Haeun pressed her lips together, bowing her head slightly. "I know, I'm really sorry. I'll pay more attention."
Haeun had rushed home immediately after she left Minho, showered twice, brushed out her hair until it was soft, and even spritzed on a different perfume… just in case Seo Minho happened to walk in again.
Which was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. And yet she had done it.
She didn't want him to recognise her, and she was ready to go to any length.
To top it off, she had slipped on an old pair of glasses frames, the lenses completely clear. They didn't do anything for her eyesight, because she didn't even need them, but somehow, she thought maybe they'd give her a layer of disguise.
Like Clark Kent and Superman.
Now that the clock ticked past eight and no familiar face had appeared, she started to relax. Victory was almost hers. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out her phone.
There were no new messages.
Her apology text to Yuna from earlier still sat unanswered, and Haeun's chest tightened with guilt.
In her panic, she had just… left her friend with three strangers.
She typed again, fingers hovering, then she stopped. With a sigh, she decided she would make it up to Yuna with a peace offering, a full pack of the best tarts from a cafe close to school. Yuna could never stay mad when food was involved, and especially when tarts were involved.
"Two soju, please," a gruff voice called from the corner.
"Coming," Haeun said automatically, grabbing a bottle and two shot glasses. The men she served were young, maybe university students like her as well, their expressions tight, jaws clenched like they had been arguing for hours.
She set down the tray between them carefully, their countenances reminding her of the young man from yesterday.
Before she could think much about him, the doorbell chimed, and Haeun turned, her tray still in her hands.
Her heart dropped.
Yuna. Dasom. Daerim. And right behind them, tall and unmistakable, Seo Minho.
"Oh no. No, no, no," she muttered under her breath, wishing she could dive under the counter and never come out again.
To her horror, Minho made a beeline for her, holding a small package in his hand. It was pink and cute.
"Hello. I am so sorry for the stress yesterday. I'm assuming you're the one that took me to my home. I'm sorry." His apology sounded genuine, and to top it off, he lowered his head.
Haeun blinked. Oh. Okay. Wow.
She stumbled with her words, forcing a laugh that came out a little too high-pitched. "It's—it's nothing, actually. Really. It happens. I understand. You were just tired." She waved her hands like it was no big deal, deliberately softening her voice so it wouldn't shake.
Minho, however, didn't look convinced. "No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "I am very sorry." Then, before she could dodge again, he held the package out to her.
"Oh," she breathed, taking it with trembling hands. Inside was a perfume bottle, soft and pastel-colored, and even before she opened it, the fragrance curled into her nose, light, floral, feminine. Lovely. Way too lovely.
From the scent, Haeun could tell it was crazy expensive.
She bowed quickly, trying not to choke on her own heartbeat. "T-thank you. That's… very kind of you."
Desperate to change the subject, she cleared her throat and forced a polite smile. "Um, what do your friends want to order?"
She deliberately kept her eyes away from Yuna. But from the corner of her vision, she could see her, laughing quietly with Dasom as though they weren't strangers at all. Daerim, still gripping a basketball like it was an accessory, leaned much too close to Yuna, his grin wide and flirty.
Haeun's hand twitched, and the urge to march over there and swat Yuna across the head was overwhelming.
But she couldn't. Not here. Not with everything dangling on a thread. If Yuna realized she was Haeun, everything would come crashing down.
Minho's calm voice pulled her back. "We'll just have tteokbokki and some fried dumplings. And…" his eyes flickered politely back to her, "thank you again."
He gave a small bow, then went to join his group.
Haeun scrambled back to the kitchen, clutching the perfume like it might explode. Her heart was in her throat, her palms clammy and wet.
Eunchae nearly squealed, bouncing on her toes. "Oh. My. God. Haeun! That's the guy from yesterday. Like a real fine, kdrama-level man, and waaaa—he even brought some gorgeous friends. Did you see that girl with the short, spiky hair? She is so cool!"
Garam huffed, crossing her arms. "Pfft. I know him. His father's a chaebol, so that explains the rich aura they have."
"Wowwewe," Eunchae gasped. "He totally looks like it. Rich aura and everything. And oh my gosh, Haeun, he just gave you a perfume." She leaned in dramatically, her eyes sparkling. "A perfume. He's such a gentleman. I think you should go out with him!"
"What?!" Haeun blurted, nearly dropping the package. "Of course not. I—I can't!"
"Why not?" Eunchae sing-songed, clearly enjoying her fluster.
"Because—just because!" Haeun snapped a little too fast, cheeks hot. She shoved the perfume into the pocket of her apron, like hiding it would make it less real. "Please, can you and Garam serve them? Please."
Eunchae grinned like she knew something. "Of courseee."