[ sj ] Hyung, I can’t go with you today ㅜㅜ
[ sj ] I have a gathering with my department.
Cha Sa-yoon, who had been about to naturally reply to Shin-jae’s message after his lecture, suddenly froze. When he came to his senses, he realized they had practically been going home together every day. Even though Shin-jae’s house wasn’t even on the way to his own.
How did it end up like this? Furrowing his brow, Sa-yoon pondered deeply before letting out a short “Ah.”
Last week, he hadn’t made it home before midnight even once. All thanks to that damned Scenario Practice class. People said Professor Min had mellowed out this year—bullshit.
The department was already notorious for its heavy workload. Still, with a mix of talent and accumulated experience, he had somehow managed to scrape by. But then, suddenly, the professor lost his mind.
That crazy hysteria led to the spectacular achievement of zero students passing in the entire class. It was unprecedented, absurd—but if he said jump, they had to jump. There was no other choice.
The real problem was that even if you didn’t pass, a new assignment was still given each week. Old assignments piled on top of new ones, multiplying like some kind of self-replicating organism.
Sa-yoon’s routine last week had been brutal. As soon as class ended, he went home, pulled an all-nighter working on assignments, then caught a short nap. An hour or two of sleep, then back to school. Rinse and repeat.
Even napping during free periods wasn’t enough to make up for the sheer lack of rest.
“Hyung, you’re exhausted from staying up all night. I’ll give you a ride!”
Like clockwork, Shin-jae would show up whenever Sa-yoon was shambling around like a zombie. He was only taking 11 credits—how enviable that freedom was. In the end, when Sa-yoon really thought he was going to die, he accepted the sweet offer.
Humans are creatures of habit. After just a day or two of riding together, it became second nature to inform Shin-jae of his schedule.
But that hellish routine had finally ended yesterday. For some miraculous reason, the professor had suddenly decided to pass everyone.
[Yeah, I’ve got plans today too.]
As soon as he replied, the read receipt disappeared, and a new message popped up right away.
A cat emoji, forming a circle with its tiny arms.
Sa-yoon had the same emoji saved. Shin-jae had given it to him as a gift, saying it reminded him of Sesame.
[I’ll buy you dinner on Monday]
“Don’t just drink—eat something too. And go home early…” As he typed, he realized it sounded like nothing but nagging. Sa-yoon erased everything in the input field and rewrote his message.
[Have a good weekend.]
This time, there was no reply. He had been worried since Shin-jae wasn’t particularly close with his department, but at least he was attending the gathering. That was a relief.
Since he was going out anyway, it’d be nice if he got along with his classmates. If he could be even half as honest with them as he was when clinging to me, people would definitely like him. With that face, that physique—sure, he was a bit sensitive, but deep down, he was actually pretty soft.
The only downside was that he didn’t seem particularly interested in his major. But then again, who made friends through studying? As long as they weren’t in the same group for class projects, it was fine.
Sa-yoon spent the entire walk to his destination lost in those thoughts, completely unaware of how odd it was.
***
Because the film department required students to appear in each other’s videos and assist with shoots, classmates—and even seniors and juniors—were tightly bonded.
“Sa-yoon sunbae eeeek!”
“Seon-ji, your voice is gonna give out.”
“Hyuuung, we’ve got the drinking setup all ready for you.”
“Oh, Je-woo. Thanks.”
Even juniors who were five years younger talked to him without hesitation.
At the start of his return to school, they had been somewhat wary of him, but after taking classes together and pulling all-nighters for shoots, the barriers had completely disappeared.
“Friday at six—perfect time to get drunk!”
Seo Yeon-hee suddenly stood up and poured a generous amount of soju into a glass. Then, she topped it off with beer. Just about half a sip’s worth—enough to make it a soju-dominant somaek. She handed it to him proudly.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Ah, sunbae! Don’t be so weak. The first drink is always a one-shot! You know that, right?”
“Hyung, we all poured one!”
No wonder the energy was so high—they must have already started drinking before he arrived.
“One! Ah, two!”
The usual drinking chants echoed through the room as someone led the count. Everyone chimed in enthusiastically.
“You guys have lost it from doing too many assignments.”
Even as he grumbled, Sa-yoon lifted his glass to his lips. The icy alcohol disappeared in an instant.
As he set the empty glass down, he locked eyes with a familiar face.
“Oh?”
It was Sa Shin-jae, just stepping into the bar. He paused at the entrance, but the group entering behind him pushed him forward, forcing him to move.
So this is where his department gathering was.
It wasn’t surprising. This bar was known for its reasonable prices and delicious side dishes.
The table across from them must have been reserved, as people from Shin-jae’s group started filling the seats one by one. Shin-jae ended up sitting directly across from Sa-yoon. When Sa-yoon casually raised a hand in greeting, Shin-jae looked startled, his lips parting slightly before he pressed them shut again. Then, after a brief pause, he lifted his hand to return the gesture.
Cute.
As Sa-yoon moved, his juniors sitting beside him gasped and turned their heads.
“Wow, I saw him last time, but seriously, he’s ridiculously good-looking.”
“Oppa, how on earth did you recruit him?”
“I tried for six months and still failed.”
“Huh? That really happened?”
What happened was that he had been horribly misunderstood as a creepy stalker, got shoulder-checked, threw himself into danger trying to save the guy… Honestly, at the start of the semester, their relationship had been bad enough that it wouldn’t have been surprising if Shin-jae had blocked him for life. Life was unpredictable.
“Alright, what are you all doing? Your glasses are empty!”
Yeon-hee, sensing the mood, smoothly changed the subject. No one seemed too intent on digging deeper, as everyone quickly shifted their focus, raising their glasses for another round.
“God, last week was hell.”
“What the hell was wrong with Professor Min last week?”
“I bet he got chewed out by the department head.”
“I couldn’t go home at all. My mom thought I ran away from home.”
“Dumbass, at least text her.”
“Sa-yoon hyung, honestly, I respect you.”
“Huh?”
“You were the only one who went home every night last week. The rest of us basically lived on campus.”
Tonight was a small get-together—a celebration for the seven survivors who had escaped the Scenario Practice nightmare. The reason there were only seven of them? The remaining eighteen students were still locked in the department lounge, struggling to pass their assignments.
“I just prefer working at home.”
“Isn’t it a waste of time going back and forth?”
Honestly, Sa-yoon had originally thought the same. Staying on campus, eating, and sleeping there had seemed like the most efficient choice. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before in his freshman year.
“Turns out it wasn’t so bad.”
“That’s why you’re different, sunbae.”
Different? Not really. It was just… knowing that someone would show up the moment they realized he was pulling an all-nighter, insisting on driving him home—he hadn’t wanted to refuse. So he had pushed himself a little harder instead.
It was a feeling he couldn’t explain to anyone. Not even to himself.
He brushed it off with a vague smile, but as soon as he did, his gaze met Shin-jae’s again from across the table.
That ever-present, carefully maintained smile was on Shin-jae’s face.
Sa-yoon sighed.
He really needs to stop doing that.
That look—it wasn’t just a polite smile. It was a subtle yet deliberate way of putting up walls.
And yet, despite that, Shin-jae showed no intention of breaking eye contact.
“Why?”
“For the glory of Class E!”
“Cheers!”
Shin-jae silently mouthed the words just as a loud cheer erupted. His gaze naturally shifted toward the source. The students at that table clinked their glasses together enthusiastically.
Class E, huh.
The business department had so many students that they apparently stuck together by class groups. Even their drinking chants seemed coordinated.
“Creation!”
“Film!”
Not to be outdone, Sa-yoon’s table responded with their own cheer. The seven glasses collided noisily, and with that, the two of them returned to their respective groups.
As time passed, the business students started moving around, drinking with different people. It was mostly the freshmen staying seated while the upperclassmen made the rounds.
“Hey, hey, make some room.”
A loud voice drew Sa-yoon’s attention to the man who had taken the seat directly across from Shin-jae.
“What’s this? No one’s drinking? Huh? Why is everyone drinking cola?”
“Oh, um, this is a no-alcohol table.”
“What the hell? Come on, have a drink. Everyone, listen up—your tolerance builds the more you drink!”
“Ah, but I really can’t handle alcohol…”
“Tsk, you can’t refuse a drink from a senior. And don’t talk like that—if you’re going to say something, speak clearly and properly, got it?”
“Yes, I’m sorry…”
Great. A total asshole.
There was always one of those guys—the type who was only a year or two older but acted like they were kings of the world.
“And what’s with all of you freshmen huddling together like this?”
Under his persistent nagging, the juniors reluctantly started drinking.
Wait—this is the non-drinking table?
Sa-yoon hadn’t realized. Shin-jae could hold his liquor just fine, so why was he sitting there? On top of that, instead of drinking, he was simply accepting the glass and placing it in front of him.
“Sa Shin-jae, why aren’t you drinking?”
The drunk asshole had clearly been watching, because the moment Shin-jae set his glass down, he immediately called him out.
“I’m sorry. I’m on medication right now.”
“Oh, come on! What a buzzkill!”
Annoyed, the man slammed his hand down on the table with a loud thud. A spoon resting near the edge fell, clattering noisily to the floor.
