The slow, sweet jazz ballad faded away, leaving behind its final lingering note.
The DJ's energetic voice announced the end of the party.
"Alright, everyone! Sadly, that's it for tonight's social party! We'll see you next week with even better music!"
As the music stopped, the heat on the floor slowly cooled, as if a spell had been lifted.
People, drenched in sweat, exchanged reluctant goodbyes with lingering smiles.
In the end, I didn't ask anyone to dance during the final blues time.
No—didn't wasn't the right word.
I couldn't.
Because all my attention was fixed on Sunny, who was chatting with the other staff members near the bar.
Lacking the courage to approach her, I could only steal glances at her smiling face from afar.
Pathetic.
I scolded myself inwardly.
After even regressing, I couldn't bring myself to properly talk to a single woman.
A soul that had lived eighteen extra years had somehow become even more cowardly than my thirty-one-year-old body.
With a bitter heart, I prepared to leave my seat.
After the party ended, we noisily filed out of Boogie Woogie together.
Escaping the underground heat, the cool night air felt refreshing.
"Man, today was seriously fun!"
Jinwoo stretched as he spoke.
"Hyungs, noonas! See you next week!"
Ryan, Haetsal, and Suji dispersed toward their respective bus stops.
In the blink of an eye, only Jinwoo and I were left.
"Hey, isn't it kind of a shame to just split like this?"
As always, Jinwoo slung an arm around my shoulder and suggested a second round.
"Wanna grab another bottle of soju at a street stall? After seeing your dance today, alcohol feels mandatory."
Eighteen years ago—no, even yesterday—I would've accepted without hesitation.
But tonight, I wasn't in the mood.
My head was completely filled with Sunny.
Her smile.
Her voice.
The sensation of dancing with her.
I didn't want to wash away this fluttering feeling in a noisy drinking session.
"No. I'm just going to head home today."
"What? You? Why—something wrong?"
Jinwoo looked at me in surprise at my firm refusal.
"I'm tired. I wanna wake up early tomorrow."
I made up a vague excuse.
Jinwoo stared at my face for a moment, then grinned as if he'd figured something out.
"Tch, you little punk. Fine, I'll let you go today. But next week? No mercy."
He patted my shoulder and walked off in the opposite direction.
Left alone, I stood there for a while, staring at the night street.
I didn't want to go straight home.
I wanted to savor this excitement just a little longer.
Without any real plan, I started walking back toward the building where Boogie Woogie was.
It was driven by a foolish hope—that maybe I could see her once more.
But the area in front of the building was empty.
The staff were probably still inside, cleaning up.
I went into the convenience store across the street and bought a can of beer.
Then I squatted under a streetlight in front of the building and took slow sips.
A pitiful scene—even my twenty-one-year-old self had never done something like this.
And yet, strangely, it didn't feel bad.
If anything, this awkward flutter made me realize I'd truly become young again.
About ten minutes passed.
Several people came up from the basement, chatting among themselves.
They were the other staff members I'd seen earlier.
With tired expressions, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
Without realizing it, I hid myself.
And then—
One last person came up.
Sunny.
I stopped breathing.
She wasn't wearing the dress she'd danced in.
Her face, freshly washed, looked fair and clean.
She wore a simple white T-shirt and jeans.
Her bobbed hair was still slightly damp, and it felt like the faint scent of shampoo drifted over on the breeze.
Completely different from her passionate 모습 on the dance floor—
She looked simple, pure, almost innocent.
Like a scene from a movie, the streetlight poured down over her damp hair.
I lost myself for a moment in that unreal beauty.
She began walking alone—straight toward my direction.
My heart started pounding wildly.
As she drew closer, I swallowed dryly, calculating the timing to stand up.
Now!
I got to my feet and walked toward her.
Acting as casual as possible, as if we'd run into each other by chance, I greeted her.
"Uh… hello, Sunny-nim."
Startled by my sudden appearance, she stopped short.
"Oh! Sseok-hopil-nim? You haven't left yet?"
"Ah… yes. I was having a can of beer with my classmates at the convenience store. I was just about to head home."
The lies slipped out of my mouth effortlessly.
"I see. Cleanup took longer than expected."
We stood facing each other awkwardly.
Silence fell.
I had to say something.
If I let her go like this, I'd spend the entire next week drowning in regret.
Clenching my fist, I summoned the second courage of my life.
"Um… Sunny-nim."
"Yes?"
"Thank you… really. For dancing with me today."
At my words, she let out a small laugh.
"You're welcome. I had more fun, actually."
"No. I was a mess. If it hadn't been for you, Sunny-nim, I probably… wouldn't have come back here again."
At my honest confession, her gaze grew a little serious.
"Really?"
"Yes. Truly."
I met her eyes directly.
"So… if it's okay with you, could you maybe help me practice a bit before next week's lesson?"
At my bold request, it felt like all the sounds of the night street vanished.
Sunny stared at me with wide eyes, clearly surprised.
That brief moment felt like an eternity.
Ah… was that too rushed?
What if she rejected me?
What if she thought I was weird?
Countless negative thoughts flashed through my mind.
Feeling awkward, I scratched the back of my head and hurriedly added—
"A-Ah! I don't mean anything weird! I'm just really bad at dancing, and I don't want to inconvenience the other classmates. Just a little outside class… even thirty minutes would be fine—"
At my desperate explanation, she burst into laughter again.
This time, it was much brighter than before.
"Alright."
"…Pardon?"
"I'll help you."
For a moment, I thought I'd misheard.
"R-Really?"
"Yes. Your passion impressed me. I can't just ignore someone trying that hard. Plus, I am staff."
She playfully pointed at the staff badge hanging from her neck.
Relief and joy flooded me, and I found myself smiling like an idiot.
"Thank you! Seriously, thank you so much!"
"But there's one condition."
"Yes! Anything!"
"From now on, just call me 'Sunny-ssi.' Adding '-nim' feels too awkward. And you seem older than me anyway…"
She glanced sideways at me.
For some reason, that expression was incredibly charming.
"Ah… yes! Got it, Sunny-ssi. I'm thirty-one, born in '77."
The words slipped out before I realized it.
"Oh really? I'm twenty-seven, born in '81. Perfect—four-year difference. They say you don't even check compatibility with that age gap."
She laughed teasingly.
Four years younger.
My heart thumped pleasantly once more.
"Alright then, we should exchange numbers. We need to set a time."
She naturally pulled out her slide phone.
I hurriedly took out mine and saved her number.
'010-XXXX-XXXX — Sunny'
As I typed her name, I couldn't stop the corners of my mouth from lifting.
Just like that, in the middle of Shinrim's night street, we made a slightly awkward, slightly fluttering promise.
"Then… I'll see you next week, Sunny-ssi."
"Yes. Get home safely, Cheolmin-ssi."
She waved at me and walked toward the bus stop.
I stood there until her figure completely disappeared.
The slide phone in my hand felt more precious than any stock account I owned.
Without realizing it, I opened my call log and checked the name 'Sunny' over and over again.
It wasn't a dream.
For the first time, I had a goal that wasn't money.
That night, I couldn't sleep again.
But this time, it wasn't from anxiety.
It was from uncontrollable excitement.
Lying in bed, I replayed the day's events again and again.
Her laughter.
Her voice.
The warmth lingering in her hand.
"Sunny."
I whispered her name into the darkness.
Just that one name made my once-empty world feel full.
From the next day on, my routine completely changed.
In the mornings, I still buried myself in economic studies at the library.
Surrounded by newspaper clippings and data covering an entire wall, I meticulously calculated the day of the coming crash.
But in the afternoons, I returned straight to my new officetel.
I turned on my computer and logged into the Enjoy Swing café.
I scoured 2007-era platforms like Pandora TV and Daum TV Pot for swing dance videos like a madman.
The video quality was atrocious.
The buffering was infuriating.
But I didn't care.
I memorized the dancers' steps and copied them with my body.
Rock step.
Triple step.
Send out.
My expanded living room became my personal practice studio.
With dance tutorials playing on my newly bought PDP TV, I corrected my posture by watching my reflection.
Sweat poured down like rain.
My focus was incomparable to last week's lesson.
My forty-nine-year-old soul marveled at the astonishing learning speed of a thirty-one-year-old body.
At this rate… I won't embarrass myself in front of her next week.
Standing before the mirror, I smiled in satisfaction at my still-clumsy but noticeably improved steps.
This was no longer a calculated movement for making money.
It was pure passion—
The desire to look good in front of one person.
For the first time in eighteen years, I was running toward something that wasn't money.
But after practicing for a long while, reality would inevitably come crashing back.
Cooling off, I sat in front of the computer and checked my stock account and bank balance.
Together, barely fifteen million won.
In the coming crash, that was enough to buy just a single futures contract.
Still not enough.
I reminded myself.
No matter how exciting Sunny was, no matter how fun dancing felt, I couldn't forget my fundamental goal.
Financial freedom.
Without achieving that first, all this excitement could vanish like a mirage.
In the end, money was what allowed me to dance—and stand confidently before her.
Money wasn't the goal.
It was the most powerful means to live the life I wanted.
I sat back down at my desk and stared at the newspaper clippings pinned to the wall.
'Subprime.'
'Lehman Brothers.'
'Crash.'
Those cold words cooled the heat that dancing had ignited in my head.
On the blueprint of my second life, next to the word money, new words were being etched clearly:
Dance.
Her.
And I intended to have it all.