The plan had never been this.
He hadn’t meant to blurt out nonsense just because his feelings had gotten the better of him. The idea had been simple: let Hae-hyun go since he said he was leaving, then slowly, carefully draw him in until his heart wavered. That was the plan.
So why the hell had he said something so reckless? Overcome with humiliation, Jae-ha squeezed his eyes shut. How was this any different from hanging up a banner? It was the same as publicly advertising his feelings for the whole world to see. Worse, the timing had been random, clumsy, and utterly lacking in charm. Even someone completely indifferent would’ve been startled and run from such a confession.
But in front of Hae-hyun, it was always like this. What good were plans? By the time he came to his senses, it was as if his brakes had failed and he’d gone careening forward. He’d never realized his own mouth could be so impatient—until he met Hae-hyun.
And to think he got rejected the very moment he resolved to pursue him. How could such a thing happen? He’d only come here to escape that bitter reality, figuring he could at least help out at the bar. Yet thanks to people’s excessive consideration, even that wasn’t allowed. One misfortune after another.
“Hyung, are you sure you’re okay? Should you even be drinking?”
Apparently even from afar, his behavior had looked strange. Jeong-seok crept over, carrying a plate of macaroni—the standard bar snack. With other juniors sneaking glances from behind, it was clear he’d been sent as their representative.
“I’m fine. Just a bit of fatigue. The doctor even told me to head home early.”
At his light reply, Jeong-seok sighed in relief and nodded. Jae-ha gave him a once-over.
He hadn’t seen it himself, since he’d been dragged off to Seo-cheon right away, but just like Yoon-taek, Jeong-seok must have collapsed right after the incident. No matter how many times Jae-ha replayed Hae-hyun’s explanation in his mind, there hadn’t been a single word about treating Jeong-seok. Which meant he’d probably just been left lying there. Thinking of his junior passed out on the freezing street, Jae-ha couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Still, later in the department group chat, he’d glimpsed a message from Ji-woo bragging about how she’d “arrested” Jeong-seok, who had been “slacking outside.” Fortunately, it seemed nothing serious had happened.
“You okay? I heard you even dozed off outside yesterday.”
“Ah… yeah, the hyungs and noonas really gave me hell for that. But honestly, it’s weird. I swear I was working hard. When did I even wander out there and fall asleep?”
Jeong-seok grumbled, his brows drooping in genuine grievance. Knowing better than anyone that he was innocent, Jae-ha smiled kindly and patted his back.
“Guess you were just exhausted. You got enough sleep today?”
“Yeah. I feel great now.”
After a few more words, Jeong-seok was called back into the kitchen and hurried off. The atmosphere had grown hectic with opening time just around the corner.
The Business department’s bar was booming. Even before the doors opened, people had begun to gather, and as time passed, the crowd only grew. The menu was the same as any other department’s, but somehow the popularity was overwhelming.
“I’ll help too. Do you have a spare apron?”
The sheer crush of people made Jae-ha feel guilty just sitting there. When he peeked into the kitchen, Hyung-jun waved him off, telling him to sit, but the workload was far beyond manageable. In the end, he handed Jae-ha a black apron anyway.
After that, just as he’d secretly hoped, Jae-ha was too busy to think of anything else.
He was thrown into serving, the most understaffed role. Memorizing orders for over ten tables was only the start—he had to clean up dropped utensils, dishes, and bottles from drunk customers. Weaving nonstop between cramped tables, he broke a sweat despite the late-autumn chill.
After clearing another table and tossing scraps into the trash, he straightened his aching back with a groan. Everyone was swamped, but somehow he seemed to draw the most work.
Even though Yoon-taek and Seongji were serving nearby, customers deliberately called out to Jae-ha from across the room. Some wouldn’t let him leave, striking up conversations to hold him there. Asking for his number or who should cover the bill was harmless enough, but one table even insisted he sit down and drink with them. It got so out of hand that Min-hee, handling the accounts, had to rush over.
“Honestly, can’t people drink without causing trouble? Oppa, you need to rest. You’ve helped more than enough.”
Dragging him out to the back, Min-hee shook her head in exasperation. In truth, Jae-ha had gotten up less than thirty minutes after opening and hadn’t sat down once in over three hours. It was practically labor abuse.
“There are too many people. If I step out, it’ll leave them shorthanded.”
He did want to rest, but looking at the packed bar, it didn’t feel right to leave. Besides, everyone else had been working just as long. They’d even done the same thing yesterday. How could he be the only one to slack off? But Min-hee squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head firmly.
“If it gets bad, I’ll serve instead. Yesterday was busy, but not like this. Honestly, people are swarming here because they want to see you. If you’re gone a while, it’ll calm down.”
“Still…”
“Come on, it’s really fine. Forcing someone sick to work? That’s grounds for a labor complaint. Worst case, just go wander for a bit!”
With that, she shoved him out before he could protest—apron still tied around his waist.
“Wait, where exactly am I supposed to go…?”
Left standing alone, he muttered helplessly. But Min-hee had already darted back inside, leaving no one to hear him.
If he went back in right away, she’d just kick him out again. So Jae-ha trudged off. He wasn’t even trying to play around—he just wanted to help. Was that really such a problem? If Min-hee ever became a CEO, her employee benefits would be legendary. Swallowing the stray thought, he let his feet carry him aimlessly, following the lively noise.
By now it was late at night. Everyone had been drinking, rowdy and in high spirits. Shouts and laughter echoed everywhere, and the department bars lining the street were bursting. Even those less popular than the Business bar had long lines snaking out the door.
As he strolled past the brightly lit storefronts, someone suddenly tugged at his sleeve.
“Excuse me, oppa!”
He turned at the unfamiliar voice and saw an unfamiliar face. A girl smiled brightly, as if they were old friends.
“Are you alone? Want to come drink with us?”
Nearby, two guys and another girl—her friends—watched him with curiosity. Their flushed faces made it clear they’d already had plenty to drink and were heading into round two.
“Ah, no thanks.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. We’re a crazy bunch—you’ll have fun.”
Never once had anyone who said that actually been fun.
“Have a good time. Sorry.”
“Oppa, come on~ You’re gonna make it awkward if you keep refusing.”
Even his polite refusals didn’t shake her grip. They chattered about how it was better to party with fun people, even following after him.
“Hyung, just once, yeah? Su-yeon says you’re exactly her type.”
“And you’re seriously handsome! Did you already finish the army?”
They were clearly much younger than him, and he didn’t feel like brushing them off harshly. Besides, they were drunk. So he just kept walking with a flat expression, repeating “Sorry” like a machine.
Then, without thinking, his gaze drifted—and froze. Ahead was a crowd so massive it dwarfed the others, gathered under a sign reading Sports Science Bar.
Jae-ha stopped dead.
“Oh, so now you’re interested in joining us?”
“We’ll treat you, okay? Please?”
Their chatter barely registered. His eyes swept over the open-layout bar, and there—at the stove—stood Hae-hyun.
“……”
Maybe he hadn’t answered Jae-ha’s messages because he’d been busy preparing. That hopeful thought gave Jae-ha some relief. But seeing him trapped inside the Sports Science bar, just as swamped as the Business one, stirred sympathy. The place was so crowded you couldn’t even get close.
Half the customers were openly gawking at him, while the servers moved deliberately to keep sightlines clear. Unlike Min-hee, the Sports Science student council president clearly wasn’t the conscientious type.
Though his face was calm, the sweat-streaked look of someone who’d been toiling over the fire for hours was plain. And this was after experiencing the Underworld ordeal just the night before. At this rate, he’d come down with something. Did they not even give breaks here?
Clicking his tongue at the blatant overwork, Jae-ha caught sight of Hae-hyun turning slightly, hidden briefly behind a pillar. Instinctively, Jae-ha shifted to get a better look—just as Hae-hyun suddenly snapped his head up, as if sensing something.
Their eyes met.
