Startled, Hoon immediately checked the chatroom. Thankfully, it was a private message from Bae Jung-yoon. Relief washed over him—only to be short-lived as his expression twisted into a scowl.
“What the hell is this?”
Jung-yoon’s profile photo, which had been the default image just a moment ago, was now a candid shot of Hoon napping. Stunned, Go Hoon stared at it, mouth agape, before quickly springing into action and furiously tapping at his screen.
[When did you take this?]
1 6:41 PM
[Delete it. Right now.]
He was typing at a speed that was completely out of character for someone who usually checked messages lazily and replied at his leisure.
[Now.]
1 6:41 PM
[Immediately.]
Since it had already been over an hour since he sent the messages, he figured it would take a while for Jung-yoon to even see them. But to his surprise, the reply came almost instantly.
Business Major Bae Jung-yoon
[Why?]
[You look cute.]
6:41 PM
“…Is this guy out of his mind?”
The words flew out of Hoon’s mouth before he could stop them.
[Cut the crap.]
6:42 PM
[Who told you it was okay to use my photo for your profile without asking?]
Business Major Bae Jung-yoon
[What’s the big deal between us?]
[Besides, I took it. Don’t I have the right to use it for my profile?]
6:42 PM
Unbelievable. First, he posted pictures of Kkongddeok-i on social media without permission, and now he was using Hoon’s own face however he pleased.
‘Like hell that’s okay.’
Hoon dove in, ready to fire back—but once again, Jung-yoon beat him to it.
Business Major Bae Jung-yoon
[If you want me to delete it,]
[Let me come over to your place.]
[Then I’ll delete it.]
[Or you can come to mine instead.]
6:43 PM
Reading the four messages that came in quick succession, Go Hoon let out a scoff and chuckled in disbelief.
‘Again with this?’ Lately, Bae Jung-yoon had been acting like someone utterly obsessed with either getting into Hoon’s apartment or getting Hoon into his own.
The day Jung-yoon finally gave permission, Seong-il had immediately jumped at the chance to visit his place, but Hoon dodged it with an excuse, saying he was busy.
Then Jung-yoon told Jo Seong-il to pick a day that worked for both of them and come together. Of course, Hoon shut down every date Seong-il suggested.
And since then, this cycle had continued. Constant pestering: When are you coming over? When will you invite me?
Honestly, visiting someone’s place—or inviting them over—wasn’t such a big deal. He had already welcomed Jo Seong-il to come over without a second thought.
But with Jung-yoon, it was different. For some reason, he instinctively resisted. Home was such a deeply private space. Did it really need to be invaded? The thought lingered in his mind.
He had already, unintentionally, crossed into Jung-yoon’s personal territory once. Maybe that’s why he was now being extra cautious. So once again, Hoon pretended not to see the invitation.
[This is a violation of portrait rights.]
[No, wait, a violation—]
1 6:44 PM
[I mean, infringement.]
Panicked, he started making typos—something almost unheard of for him. Truth be told, if he could, he would’ve demanded that every single photo of Kkongddeok-i posted on Jung-yoon’s XStar account be taken down too. But it wasn’t the time or place for that.
What right did he have to dictate what Jung-yoon did with pictures of his own cat?
‘Even if I couldn’t protect Kkongddeok-i’s image rights, I’ll damn well protect my own as a human being.’
Resolved, Go Hoon glared at the chat window with burning eyes.
But even after five minutes of staring, the screen stayed the same. The fast and frequent replies had come to a sudden halt.
“What the hell… Why isn’t he answering now?”
With assignments piling up, it felt downright pathetic to be sitting there, ignoring all of it just to stare daggers at his phone. Finally reaching his limit, Go Hoon called Bae Jung-yoon.
No answer.
He called again. And again. Five times in total. Still nothing but dead silence. Eventually, Hoon had no choice but to set the phone down.
He settled at his desk, opened the report file, and tried to concentrate—but his eyes kept flicking toward his phone.
Bzzz.
Right then, a short vibration buzzed through the table. Hoon immediately snatched up his phone and checked the notification.
But it wasn’t from Bae Jung-yoon.
Business Major Jo Seong-il
[Photo]
[This you? LOOOOOOL]
[What is this, are you guys dating or something? XD]
7:02 PM
The photo attached was a screenshot of Bae Jung-yoon’s profile.
Hoon stared at it with a flat, deadpan expression, then left the message on read. His jaw tightened.
“Bae Jung-yoon, you’re fucking dead.”
The words slipped out in a low growl.
But for all his fury, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even reach the guy.
1 7:10 PM
[If you don’t take that photo down, you’re dead.]
He sent one more message—blatantly threatening this time—but still no reply. Not even the next morning. That cursed “1” still sat next to the message, and the profile photo hadn’t changed.
Seething, Go Hoon arrived at school at the crack of dawn, ready to track him down. He scoured the entire Business Administration building looking for Bae Jung-yoon.
But no matter how thoroughly he searched, there was no trace of him.
The guy had a habit of appearing out of nowhere when Hoon didn’t want to see him, yet now that he actually wanted to find him, he’d vanished like a ghost.
Even at lunch, it was the same story.
Usually, the moment Hoon walked into the cafeteria, Jung-yoon would pop up like he’d been waiting all day, acting overly familiar. But today, radio silence.
Hoon got his tray and sat down to eat. But unlike his usual self—someone who ignored everything around him and focused solely on his food—he kept glancing around the dining hall. His whole attention was trained on spotting Jung-yoon.
“…What the hell am I doing?”
The realization hit him like a slap. In that moment, Hoon felt completely alien to himself.
He’d always lived like water flowing down a stream—whatever came, came; whatever left, left. But now, here he was, actively chasing after someone he’d spent so long trying to keep at arm’s length.
‘Why do I feel like I’m getting pulled deeper and deeper into Bae Jung-yoon?’
A strange heaviness settled over him. Spoon in hand, frozen mid-air, he stared down at his tray before shaking his head.
‘Don’t overthink it. You have a clear objective.’
Delete the photo from Bae Jung-yoon’s phone.
That’s it.
With that single purpose in mind, Hoon resumed eating with renewed, battle-ready determination.
***
After finishing his class and a team project meeting in one of the seminar rooms, Hoon pulled out his phone and opened the group chat. He stared at the eerily silent thread.
“Why the hell hasn’t this guy read his messages…”
And it wasn’t just Bae Jung-yoon.
Park Ki-cheol had gone completely silent, too.
It had been over half a day since Ki-cheol was supposed to send his part of the materials. Still no response.
Even the message Hoon sent the night before—When are you sending your section?—still sat unopened, a small “2” glaring back at him.
‘This is why people say you can’t fix someone just by treating them nicely.’ He started out all obedient and cooperative, and now the old habits were creeping back.
Hoon had been planning to start organizing the PowerPoint once Ki-cheol’s files came in. But with no updates, he couldn’t do anything.
He had a bad feeling, so he’d preemptively drafted a basic outline the night before, leaving room for Ki-cheol’s section.
‘Should I give it a little more time?’ To be fair, Ki-cheol had been doing his share lately. Maybe something actually came up. But even as he tried to be understanding, a deep furrow formed between his brows.
Jung-yoon hadn’t said a word either. And Hoon wasn’t even the team leader—was it really his place to step in?
He’d already followed up once. And knowing Ki-cheol’s personality, another nudge might just rub him the wrong way.
Still frowning, Hoon reopened his last message to Bae Jung-yoon. The “1” still hadn’t changed.
“…Is he really that busy?”
He muttered to himself, eyes fixed on the screen, then finally shoved the phone back into his pocket. ‘Fine. I’ll wait a little longer. If nothing changes, I’ll ask through Jung-yoon.’
As he crossed the lounge and stepped out of the Business Admin building, a familiar face caught his attention. Kim Yeo-jin stood off to the side, her expression serious as she stared down at her phone.
He was heading in that direction anyway, so Hoon began walking toward her.
Sensing his approach, Kim Yeo-jin looked up.
“Hello, sunbae.”
As soon as their eyes met, she gave a quick, polite bow.
“Hey.”
Hoon greeted her casually, then asked, almost without thinking,
“What are you doing just standing here?”
Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered. But today, for whatever reason, the question just came out.
Yeo-jin looked surprised at his attention. Her eyes widened a little before she answered quietly,
“Ah… I have plans with someone.”
Hoon gave a small nod.
She was probably waiting for whoever that was—but her expression didn’t look too good. Her stiff, uneasy demeanor made him want to ask if something was wrong… but he stopped himself.
They weren’t close. Was it really his place to ask? From her perspective, his concern probably wouldn’t be welcome.
That’s just how it was with upperclassmen. No matter how approachable you tried to be, there was always a wall.
Of course, it varied from person to person. But Hoon was self-aware enough to know that his personality wasn’t exactly comforting. He had no illusions about being the exception.
“Well, see you around then.”
“Um, sunbae…!”
Just as he turned to leave, Yeo-jin called out in a rush.
Hoon turned back silently. Her lips parted hesitantly, and with a visible air of nervousness, she finally spoke.
“I’m supposed to get drinks with Park Ki-cheol sunbae later… If you’re free, would you maybe… want to come with us?”
Hoon raised an eyebrow.
The invite came so out of left field.
Drinks? Just like that?
And with Park Ki-cheol of all people—someone who was basically his sworn enemy.
