The last Saturday of September.
It was the day of Swing Baby, Week 4.
Over the past month, my life had changed dramatically.
A world once filled with nothing but cold numbers had been invaded by dance, music—and people.
I was no longer a lonely investor who couldn't sleep because of money.
Of course, my main profession was still that of a full-time trader.
Over the past month, through blood-draining day trading, I had managed to grow my available funds to 15 million won.
Every morning from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., I fought in front of my monitor like an emotionless machine.
After walking a razor's edge—swinging between heaven and hell multiple times a day—I finally achieved my goal.
The sense of accomplishment didn't last long.
I immediately opened a futures account and completed all preparations for the massive crash that was to come.
Now, I was a hyena armed with a powerful weapon—ready to bet on a falling market at any time.
And yet, strangely enough, I didn't feel the same urgency or desperation about money as before.
What filled my heart instead was anticipation for tonight's class.
More precisely—
For the one person I would meet there.
Sunny.
When I arrived at Boogie Woogie, familiar faces greeted me.
"Oh, the ace is here!"
At some point, I had become known as the "ace" among the 26th batch.
Now, I returned their greetings with an easy smile.
The lesson began, and today we learned a new step—the Charleston.
It was lively and dynamic, harder than expected, but thanks to weeks of training, I managed to keep up without much trouble.
When the lesson ended, social time finally began.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
I walked straight toward Sunny, who was chatting with classmates across the floor.
As I approached her, I could feel the gazes of the 26th batch gathering on me.
Their eyes were filled with expectation and curiosity.
Ignoring them, I stopped in front of her.
"Sunny-ssi, would you like to dance one song with me?"
At my confident voice, she looked at me with slightly surprised eyes.
Then she smiled pleasantly and took my hand.
"Sure, Sseokhofil-oppa."
We stepped toward the center of the floor.
Upbeat jazz music began to play, and without hesitation, I took my first step.
For the past few weeks, I had practiced thinking of no one but her.
I focused on every small movement she made, leading her so she could dance as comfortably and joyfully as possible.
We moved as if we'd been partners for years—our chemistry flawless.
The surrounding gazes faded away.
In my world, there was only her, the music, and our dance.
When the song ended, we were drenched in sweat, smiling brightly at each other.
"Wow… oppa, seriously…"
She couldn't even finish her sentence, just letting out a breath of admiration.
Watching her, I felt like I had the entire world.
I didn't want to let this moment slip away.
Gathering my courage, I met her eyes and spoke.
"Sunny-ssi."
"Yes?"
"There's something I want to talk about… not dance-related. Do you have time later?"
At my blunt proposal, her eyes widened.
But she didn't hesitate.
"Yes. I do."
That night, instead of joining the club's after-party, we headed down a small alley in Sillim.
Sunny led me to a small shop called "Midnight Oden."
As we stepped inside, warm steam and the savory scent of bonito broth welcomed us.
Several people were already seated around the wooden bar shaped like the Korean letter ㄷ, quietly drinking.
We sat side by side at the bar.
Close enough that our shoulders brushed.
It was a completely different tension from dancing—denser, heavier.
We ordered two cups of warm sake and a few skewers of fish cake.
An awkward silence settled in.
I fidgeted with my cup, wondering how to begin.
Sunny broke the silence.
"Oppa… you're kind of fascinating."
"Huh? Me?"
"Yes. At first, I thought you were just a blunt, awkward ajusshi…"
My heart sank at the word ajusshi.
"But then I realized you dance incredibly well, and somehow… you feel like someone with a lot of secrets. Sometimes you don't feel thirty-one at all. More… grown."
At her words, I gave a bitter smile.
Secrets? My entire life is one big secret.
But I couldn't say that out loud.
Instead, I answered honestly, meeting her eyes.
"I just… wanted to try living a different life."
She didn't press further—just smiled gently.
I didn't want to lose this moment.
Ignition on, Park Cheol-min.
Swallowing dryly, I summoned the greatest courage of my life.
"Sunny-ssi… do you have someone you're seeing?"
At my direct question, she set down her sake cup and looked at me.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Why do you ask?"
"Ah, I just… got curious."
"Well… what if I do? What if I don't?"
She turned the question back on me.
I was flustered for a moment, then steadied myself.
Eighteen years had taken much from me—but they'd also taught me how to let go of pointless hesitation.
I didn't look away.
"If you don't… I'd like to try being that person."
I deliberately said her name at the end.
Sunny-ssi.
Her eyes widened briefly.
Then she lowered her head slightly, unable to hide the smile forming on her lips.
This was the first confession of my second life.
She stayed silent for a long time.
Just fiddling with the fish cake skewer, head bowed.
That silence tightened around my heart.
Ah… was it too fast?
I berated myself.
We'd only met a handful of times—what kind of confession was this?
Where did eighteen years of composure go? Why was I acting like an awkward twenty-one-year-old?
Panicking, I hurriedly added—
"Ah—! Of course, you don't have to feel pressured! I'm just saying how I feel, that's all—haha…"
At my pitiful excuse, she finally looked up.
Her face still carried that playful smile.
"Oppa."
"Y-yes?"
"I'm not that easy, you know?"
"..."
"But…"
She paused, then met my eyes directly.
"I'll think about it."
It wasn't a yes.
It wasn't a no.
But I understood.
It meant not no.
Relief and joy flooded me, and I broke into a foolish grin.
"Thank you!"
"For what? We're not dating yet."
"Still."
We laughed together—awkward, but happy.
She raised her sake cup.
"Then… how about a toast? To getting closer from now on?"
"Sounds great!"
We clinked our cups.
The warm sake melted something frozen deep inside me.
"By the way… how about calling each other by our real names instead of nicknames?"
I asked cautiously.
"Sure. I'm Han Jiae."
"Han Jiae… that's a pretty name."
I repeated it silently.
It tickled my heart.
"Your name is Park Cheol-min, right?"
She asked with a smile.
I blinked, then nodded.
"Ah… right. You're staff."
"Yes. I have the full 26th batch list. I knew from the start."
She winked playfully.
Only then did I realize how foolish my question had been.
That was how we confirmed each other's real names.
After that day, our relationship grew rapidly closer.
We texted every day.
Two or three times a week, we met separately for dinner or movies.
Through her, I relearned the joys of the world I had forgotten.
New movies.
New restaurants.
Popular songs.
Everything felt unfamiliar—but with her, it was all fun.
One day, we went to a DVD room, which was popular at the time.
A soft sofa, a big TV—our own private space.
We watched "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End."
Afterward, we talked for a long time about the movie.
"Oppa, what's your blood type?"
Jiae suddenly asked. In 2007, blood types were more popular than MBTI.
"Me? O-type."
"That figures. You're very straightforward."
"And you?"
"A-type. Super timid."
"No way. When you dance, you're really bold."
She laughed shyly.
Little by little, I learned more about her.
She lived alone in Sillim.
She was from Gwangju, Jeolla Province.
She shared a two-room officetel with her younger sister.
She also had a youngest brother who'd just entered high school.
The more I learned, the more she stopped being "Sunny," the dancer—
And became Han Jiae, a person.
And as I learned her world, I couldn't stay locked in mine.
I no longer shut myself away in the library and officetel.
In the mornings, I was still a cold investor.
But in the afternoons, I became a normal thirty-one-year-old man, preparing for dates with her.
Of course, I never forgot my true goal.
I kept checking the U.S. markets, waiting for the day of collapse.
My futures account held 15 million won—ready for war.
But now, I wasn't alone.
There was someone beside me, cheering for my ruthless fight.
One weekend afternoon, we were cycling at Hangang Park.
When I sat down to check stock news, she scolded me lightly.
"Oppa, you're checking stocks again?"
"Sorry. Occupational habit."
"What occupation? You're unemployed."
She laughed teasingly.
Pushing her bike from behind, I said quietly—
"Just wait a little. I'll show you something really amazing."
She tilted her head, confused.
I just smiled.
Days passed like that.
We were close enough to be called lovers without awkwardness.
But I still hadn't received a clear answer.
That night, after a date, we stood in the alley in front of her house.
A streetlight bathed us in soft light.
I gathered my courage.
"Jiae."
"Yes, oppa?"
"My confession… when do you think I might hear your answer?"
At my careful question, she burst into laughter.
"What, oppa. You still haven't heard it?"
"Huh?"
"I think I already answered. Meeting you every day, laughing together—if that's not an answer, what is?"
She looked up at me with playful eyes.
Then, standing on her tiptoes, she lightly pressed her lips to mine.
"..."
I couldn't breathe.
Soft.
Warm.
Sweet.
It was the first perfect kiss I'd felt in eighteen years—maybe in my entire life.
She pulled back, smiling shyly.
"So… is that answer enough?"
I couldn't say a word.
Instead, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close.
And this time, I kissed her first.
The awkward, clumsy kiss turned intense and burning.
All the regret and loneliness of eighteen years melted away on her lips.
Just like that—
I was beginning the true love of my second life.