One glass. Two. Three. Four.
Jin-wook was a lightweight. I drank one glass for every two they shared. The seniors and juniors at the other table watched, fascinated, then gradually lost interest, whispering among themselves.
“He’s a monster. A monster.”
I heard you, assholes.
Jin-wook got chatty when drunk. Heon was already nodding off, chin on his chest. I hadn’t counted, but we’d definitely passed ten glasses. Not a huge amount, but they’d downed it too fast and crashed.
I ate hwachae and nodded along to Jin-wook’s rambling.
“My dad was a magician.”
“Mhm.”
“Maybe that’s why I dreamed of being one too, as a kid.”
“Uh-huh.”
I’d heard his dad was a famous magician. He’d organized the 300-second Shocking Escape Show on the Han River, but a staff error broke the escape equipment, and he never made it out. It was national news, so it must’ve been traumatic for young Jin-wook. Whenever he drank, he’d dredge up fragments of memories about his dad.
“When I was little, Dad said an owl from Hogwarts would come for me. I really believed it.”
“Oh? And?”
“It never came. Fuck. All lies.”
Sigh. I pushed his shoulder.
He toppled onto the chair beside him and passed out.
I looked around. Everyone else was already unconscious.
Being able to drink was fun, but the cleanup was a pain.
I grabbed my coat and went table to table, shaking people awake.
Some stumbled up and gathered their things. Others didn’t move at all.
I helped the conscious ones carry the passed-out seniors. After assigning Heon to take care of Jin-wook, I took charge of Baseok sunbae, who lived nearby.
Heon was really lightweight—no matter how hard I shook him, he wouldn’t wake up. I had to carry him, and I supported Baseok sunbae as we left.
I waved to the juniors flagging down taxis.
“All done?”
“Yeah.”
“You guys head in too.”
“What about Baseok hyung?”
“I’ll take care of him.”
“Okay, then we’ll go.”
“Yeah.”
I set Heon, taller than me, down on a chair for a moment and woke Baseok sunbae first. He lifted his head, his face flushed from alcohol.
Sunbae blinked blearily at me.
Then he slurred my name.
“Siwoo.”
“Yes, sunbae.”
“Listen…….”
He mumbled incoherently. After asking him to repeat himself a few times, the cold air must’ve sobered him up a little—his words became clearer.
“……You have a stalker.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, you have a stalker.”
“…….”
Stalker.
I tilted my head, recalling the incident. It had been months. The whole team had panicked when the stalker showed up during a practice game, so everyone knew about it.
I’d almost forgotten, but Baseok sunbae remembered—and brought it up now.
I asked, puzzled:
“Why?”
“I actually… saw it.”
“……What?”
“But you two seemed so close, I didn’t want to cause trouble…….”
“What are you talking about?”
I wasn’t asking because I didn’t understand. A cold premonition crept in. My expression stiffened.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
