Actually, he had walked back and forth about thirty times, trying to make it look like a coincidence. But as long as no one else knew, that was all that mattered—at least, that’s how he rationalized it to himself.
“Going to eat?”
“Yes! We’re heading to the cafeteria!”
Someone answered him. Sa-yoon widened his eyes as if he had just learned something new.
“Really? Even our Shin-jae eats cafeteria food? I thought you wouldn’t touch that kind of thing.”
For the briefest moment, Sa Shin-jae’s expression stiffened before relaxing again.
“I like cafeteria food. I ate there often during the first semester too.”
“Ohh, I see. Guess I didn’t know that.”
Sa-yoon was still smiling brightly. Shin-jae suddenly thought—he had never seen someone’s smile look this ominous before.
“Have a great meal, sunbae.”
“Yeah. You guys enjoy your food too.”
“Yes! Goodbye!”
Sa-yoon waved his hand lazily and disappeared, making an exit as cool as his sudden appearance. It was only after he had gone that one of Shin-jae’s classmates turned to him with a question.
“Shin-jae, who was that sunbae? Is he from our department?”
“Huh? No… not really…”
Shin-jae was still looking down the path Sa-yoon had taken. For some reason, he had a feeling—this wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning.
***
“This is Cha Sa-yoon, a senior from the Film Studies department. He’s helped us out a lot in the past. And this here is the pride of the theater club! Our new freshman from Business Administration, Sa Shin-jae.”
Back then, Sa Shin-jae had no particular feelings about him.
The theater club was full of social butterflies, so if you ran into them outside, they’d almost always introduce their companions. He had just assumed that day was like any other.
With a practiced social smile, Shin-jae looked at the person in front of him.
His skin is really pale.
In contrast, his jet-black hair made the color stand out even more. His eyes, without double eyelids, were sharply slanted—probably the type that often got told he had a strong personality. Overall, he had the cold, striking features of a handsome man.
If no one had introduced him, Shin-jae would have believed it if someone said he was a theater club senior.
Even after Ha-rim finished the introductions, Sa-yoon remained silent, staring at him with wide-open eyes. His sharp, three-whites gaze stood out.
Is this some kind of power struggle?
Without thinking too much about it, Shin-jae gave a small nod in greeting. The response he got was unexpected.
“You’re seriously good-looking.”
After that, all the man did was shower him with compliments about his appearance. It was tiresome. As always, Sa Shin-jae maintained a faint smile, pretending to listen attentively while letting the words wash over him. It was exhausting.
“Oh? You’re taking this class too?”
The next time they ran into each other was in a required liberal arts course that most freshmen took. From what he knew, it had only been added as a graduation requirement this year, so upperclassmen had no reason to take it. That much was clear from the fact that out of thirty students, only three weren’t freshmen.
If he was Ha-rim’s senior, that meant he was even further along in his studies. By that point, upperclassmen usually stuck to major-specific courses.
And yet, this man had enrolled in this class—Understanding Logic, of all things. It wasn’t one of those fluff courses where you just watched movies during lectures, nor was it a pass/fail course taken just for the sake of completion.
Then, when Shin-jae went to the club room, that same senior showed up again, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It was only natural that his suspicions deepened.
From that point on, Shin-jae started keeping an eye on him. He tried to act indifferent, but the way the other man kept sneaking glances at him was exactly like someone stealing looks at their unrequited crush.
“Ah!”
It was a rather awkward situation. Shin-jae was staring at the plate of cookies in the middle of the table. He didn’t want to put in his mouth something that might have someone else’s spit on it. This was exactly why he hated shared food.
Just then, Sa-yoon let out a sharp cry, like a bird hit by a stone.
“I just bit into something super hard. Thought it was a rock.”
He was clutching his cheek as he spoke. There was no way a homemade cookie would have an actual rock inside. And yet, when their eyes met, he threw a wink that wasn’t even remotely funny.
Shin-jae hated it—how this so-called senior kept showing up in their clubroom despite being an outsider, how he had no shame about taking a freshman-level class, and most of all, how he kept pushing for meals and drinks together.
Even when Shin-jae brushed him off, he clung on persistently. His behavior was completely at odds with his looks.
These days, even in companies, if a superior acted like this, they’d be warned for workplace harassment. So why was it still acceptable in school?
“So you’re telling me to do this kind of bullshit?”
Shin-jae slammed the folder onto the table and turned his head toward the seats.
Sure enough, that senior was sitting there again. The way he glared so intently during rehearsals, never missing a single movement, was suffocating.
Does he not realize he’s a nuisance?
Then again, if he did, he wouldn’t be acting this way.
Bit by bit, every day, he treated Shin-jae with kindness.
And Shin-jae found that kindness and attention utterly suffocating.
The discomfort reached its peak at a company dinner. Despite being an outsider, he insisted on tagging along. It was almost laughable how he kept eyeing the empty seat next to him, waiting for the right moment to slide in.
Shin-jae had been rallying to knock him out completely, but surprisingly, he kept up well. He didn’t look like the type to even touch alcohol, which made it all the more unexpected.
This could be dangerous. He hadn’t expected Sa-yoon to handle his drinks so well, and now his tolerance was at the brink. It fluctuated slightly depending on his condition, but for the most part, it was steady.
But with the semester just starting, theater club rehearsals, gaming, and now this annoying senior on top of everything—it had already been a tiring few weeks.
“Ah… la?”
“Huh?”
Lost in thought, Shin-jae had missed the question. That pale face tilted slightly, eyes gleaming with curiosity, before leaning in. Then, covering his mouth with one hand, he whispered into Shin-jae’s ear.
“Want to go get some ice cream?”
The breath tickling his ear sent an involuntary shiver up his neck.
“Your neck’s a little red.”
Noticing it, Sa-yoon started touching his nape, spouting nonsense as if he had a reason to.
Shin-jae recognized this pattern all too well. The classic “let’s take a walk, just the two of us” move at a drinking party. It was all too familiar.
And as if mistaking his first touch for permission, he went further—pretending to stumble as an excuse to grab Shin-jae’s arm.
The way his fingers tightened around his forearm for just a moment before letting go—it felt more like teasing than anything else.
Seated with his back to the table, Shin-jae squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. Calm down. It wasn’t worth ruining the image he’d carefully built over some desperate returning student.
“You’re not drunk, are you?”
If he really was, Shin-jae was more than prepared to dump him on the street and leave him there. Fortunately, he didn’t seem so far gone that he couldn’t comprehend words.
“I still haven’t even gotten your number. I can’t pass out yet.”
“What?”
There was no response. Either he hadn’t heard or was choosing to ignore the question.
Halfway up the stairs, Shin-jae stopped and stared at the person climbing ahead of him.
He was gripping the steel railing tightly as he took each step, his pace painfully slow. Worse, he was pressing one hand against his left knee, his posture hunched forward.
Is he trying to seduce me with his back or something? Did he even realize how he looked from behind?
Shin-jae’s lips curled up slightly in amusement.
“Everyone’s so full of youthful energy, huh.”
Yeah, right. He muttered under his breath. For him, this was nothing but a punishment.
Rustle, rustle.
Sa-yoon kept making that annoying sound. The humid air, his half-assed remarks about youth, the way he kept sneaking glances at Shin-jae—all of it was irritating.
Looking around, there was no one from the club in sight.
“Do you have something you want to say to me?”
“Uh… was it that obvious?”
Shin-jae couldn’t hold back anymore and cast the bait. The other man took it—hook, line, and sinker.
For someone who was usually as pale as a lump of unbaked dough, his face was noticeably flushed as he turned to look at him.
And yet, if he really thought he wasn’t being obvious, that was some serious lack of self-awareness.
“Yeah. I’ve dealt with plenty of people like you before.”
“Actually, I wanted to ask you for some filming help. You’re exactly my type.”
He smiled as if embarrassed, but the more he spoke, the more of a pervert he seemed. Filming? Did he mean the kind of filming he was thinking of?
The smile on Shin-jae’s face cracked.
Seriously, why did gay bastards always act like their dicks ran the show?
At that point, it was getting hard to maintain his expression.
“You’re kind of funny.”
He decided to mock him, just to see how far he’d go.
The idiot didn’t even catch on—just kept laughing, oblivious.
How the hell was someone like this even wired? His sense of awareness was absolutely fucked.
