That day had passed like a fleeting topic of conversation, but it wasn’t long before the stepfather brought up Gwak Seon-woo’s name again. This time, it was while he was with his mother as well.
He’d mentioned that Seon-woo wasn’t his son, but he thought of him as one—a nephew he treated like family. Jo Jeong-hee had accepted that explanation without much resistance. When he said he wanted to introduce his nephew, she not only nodded readily but even seemed genuinely excited. It appeared she had built up some kind of romanticized image of Gwak Seon-woo in her mind.
Of course, even Seung-hyeon hadn’t been entirely immune to such illusions. That memory of a boy who acted mature yet loved amusement parks—etched into his mind from their brief conversation on the Ferris wheel—lingered quite vividly.
But unlike his mother, Gwak Seung-hyeon wasn’t optimistic by nature. He had been gripped by a vague sense of foreboding even before the meeting. A feeling that, somehow, even if they did meet, getting close to Gwak Seon-woo wouldn’t be so easy.
And in the end, Seung-hyeon’s instincts had been mostly correct.
Because it was a meeting both his mother and stepfather had eagerly anticipated, the dinner where Seung-hyeon was formally introduced to Seon-woo was arranged rather quickly. Perhaps due to a lack of other available days, Seung-hyeon had to head straight to a family restaurant right after school that day.
Jo Jeong-hee, despite her gentle and delicate appearance, was actually a woman of considerable resolve. In other words, it was rare for her to be visibly nervous about anything. But that day, she seemed a little different than usual. Every time Seung-hyeon glanced to the side, she couldn’t seem to keep her hands still.
Watching his mother fidget with her handkerchief—something she almost never did—Seung-hyeon cast a curious look at her, then quickly fell deep into thought. His gaze was fixed toward the entrance.
Not long after, the door opened, and a figure followed behind the stepfather. Even without an introduction, it was immediately clear that the boy was Gwak Seon-woo. But Seung-hyeon couldn’t completely mask the faint flicker of surprise on his face. It was because Seon-woo’s first impression was nothing like what he had imagined.
He had pictured someone a bit more laid-back—what you’d expect from a typical high schooler. But the Gwak Seon-woo who appeared before him had not a single gap in his composure. Unlike Seung-hyeon, who was still in his school uniform after rushing out from class, Seon-woo wore a crisp white shirt and black pants, perfectly neat. It was probably the first time the two-year age gap had felt so palpable.
It wasn’t that Seung-hyeon felt embarrassed or diminished in any way. But Seon-woo, despite also being in high school, gave off an aura that made it hard to believe they were peers. That presence alone was enough to make anyone sitting across from him feel a little self-conscious. Had it been someone else in Seung-hyeon’s place, they likely would’ve been struck by an indescribable awkwardness.
That was the kind of atmosphere Gwak Seon-woo carried. And it wasn’t just because of his looks. Sure, his sharply defined, city-slicker features and piercing eyes—despite retaining a hint of youth—certainly played a part. But more than anything, it was the air around him that left an impression. The sense that he wasn’t someone you’d come across in everyday life, but rather the kind of person you’d only ever see in a drama or movie.
The only thing that still made Gwak Seon-woo resemble a boy was the expression on his face.
He looked thoroughly displeased—like someone brimming with irritation and discontent. The moment Seung-hyeon met his gaze head-on, he realized instantly—Gwak Seon-woo didn’t like him. Not even a little.
Maybe it was because, in that moment, it hit him: the boy in front of him wasn’t some fictional character, but a real person—someone who could see him, touch him, and even despise him. Strangely enough, the moment that reality sank in, all his tension melted away.
When he returned the gaze with a smile, Seon-woo’s expression twisted even more. Seung-hyeon, caught in a strange sense of amusement, watched intently as Seon-woo turned his head away.
Since their mother and stepfather sat facing each other, it was inevitable that Seung-hyeon, seated next to his mother, and Seon-woo, next to his uncle, ended up face-to-face. Although Seon-woo wore that sour expression the entire time, he didn’t let it spill over into his words or behavior.
To be honest, Seung-hyeon had feared the worst—that the boy might actually say something outright insulting. It was hard to interpret that scowl of his as anything but hostile. But when the stepfather introduced them, instead of shouting something like, “I can’t accept this marriage!” like some drama character, or throwing cold water in someone’s face, Seon-woo simply gave Jo Jeong-hee a restrained nod.
Even though the look in his eyes toward her wasn’t exactly warm, he wasn’t rude enough to ignore a greeting altogether. Though judging by appearances alone, he certainly looked like the type who could’ve pulled it off. Watching as Seon-woo refused to even glance his way, Seung-hyeon quietly took a sip of water.
Contrary to the tense first impression, the dinner itself passed without incident. It was so uneventful, in fact, that Seung-hyeon began to wonder if they would simply part ways like this and never meet again.
As time went on, he started to realize something unsettling: he was losing his sense of composure. It was a strange feeling—one he had never experienced before. A growing thirst in his throat finally drove him to rise from his seat. He needed to cool his head, even if just for a moment. He smiled at his mother, who looked up at him curiously, and spoke.
“I’m just gonna run to the restroom real quick.”
He followed a staff member’s directions to the bathroom, but of course, it wasn’t that urgent. He stood aimlessly in front of the sink, washing hands that were already clean. Then he thought of Gwak Seon-woo’s face again. Those sharply defined features and jet-black hair—perhaps because he had just seen him, the image came to mind without effort. The hostility radiating from him had been obvious at first glance.
Seung-hyeon found himself wondering why Seon-woo disliked him so much. Then he found himself wondering if it was even worth thinking about.
The answer was simple.
Was he really going to see Gwak Seon-woo again?
Cousins tied by remarriage were, in truth, even less connected than strangers. If it hadn’t been for Seon-woo’s unusually close relationship with his stepfather, today’s dinner wouldn’t have happened at all. They would’ve lived out their lives as nothing more than distant names on a family tree.
And barring any unexpected events, today would likely be the last time he ever saw him. Someone who so openly displayed their distaste wasn’t likely to want another meeting. And Seung-hyeon, for his part, wasn’t the kind of person who went out of his way to spend time with someone who hated him.
And yet…
While he was deep in thought, the bathroom door opened. Seung-hyeon turned his head toward it without much thought, just to check. He hadn’t expected to see a familiar face—but unexpectedly, there stood Gwak Seon-woo.
He closed the door quietly, folded his arms, and stared straight at Seung-hyeon’s face. More precisely, he didn’t just look at him—his eyes were filled with obvious displeasure as he glared.
“Seriously, what the hell is he so pissed about…?”
He didn’t know.
Swallowing back the thought, Seung-hyeon gave a faint smile. Of course, it wasn’t like he had no idea at all. And if his hunch was right, then Gwak Seon-woo, despite his composed exterior, was actually a lot more childish than he let on. Immature, even. Honestly, the fact that he liked amusement parks had already hinted at that lingering childlike side.
“Ah, so…”
Speaking as if he’d just remembered something, he tried to sound as casual as possible. Seon-woo didn’t budge an inch. Keeping the same unbroken smile, Seung-hyeon turned off the faucet.
With the sound of running water gone, only silence stretched between them. Calmly pulling out a paper towel to dry his hands, Seung-hyeon then reached one out.
“Seon-woo hyung.”
It was an unmistakable gesture—an offer for a handshake. But Seon-woo showed not the slightest intention of accepting it. He continued to glare, arms still tightly crossed. Seung-hyeon didn’t withdraw either.
In the end, it was Seon-woo who finally opened his mouth.
“Get that filthy hand out of my face.”
The line was almost absurd in how textbook it sounded. But Seung-hyeon didn’t look shocked. He didn’t even laugh. He simply responded with calm composure.
“I just washed it, though?”
Seon-woo let out a scoffing snort, as if utterly dumbfounded. The silence thickened again—and then, he was the first to look away. Without another word, he opened the door and walked out, like he’d never spoken, like he’d never even come in.
Seung-hyeon drifted back into thought.
When he’d first heard the name Gwak Seon-woo, he hadn’t believed they would ever actually meet. And yet here they were, face-to-face. If that assumption had been proven wrong—maybe the thought that he’d never see him again after today might be just as mistaken.
He lifted his head, finally ready to leave the restroom and return to his seat. And then, as he caught his reflection in the mirror—he met his own eyes.
It was only then that Gwak Seung-hyeon realized he was smiling.
