LA0S | Chapter 7

Yeah. If it wasn’t Kim Chayoung I was dealing with, I would have bowed deeply and thanked him profusely, gushing about how great our artist was. But because it was Kim Chayoung, even seeing such skill made me hesitate.

The prize ranged from a minimum of five million won to a maximum of one hundred million won. And the grand prize included a professional debut… Naturally, there would be additional earnings after the official debut. Even if it’s just the top few percent, the revenue would be considerable, especially now when it’s easier than ever to go global.

“I’ve laid all my cards on the table. It’s your call now. What’ll you do?”

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Kim Chayoung asked in a voice still lightly mixed with a laugh, sounding unusually sweet, like a witch in a fairy tale luring kids into a candy house.

“Can I ask you one thing before I answer?”

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“Sure. Shoot.”

“You don’t mind… us collaborating? We’d have to meet face-to-face at least twice a week.”

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“Should I mind?”

“…”

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“Lee Jinha. Does it bother you?”

Looking at Kim Chayoung, who seemed utterly unconcerned, my spirit just deflated. It seemed I was the only one still hung up on the past. Kim Chayoung appeared to have forgotten all about it already.

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When the amount of water spilled differs, so does the drying time. Unlike the constantly ebbing sea, a drop on dry ground vanishes quickly as if it never existed.

Lee Jinha chuckled wryly and handed back the tablet and notebook to him.

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“Alright. Let’s do this.”

If Kim Chayoung was unfazed, then it was only right for me to let go as well. Maybe this opportunity would even rid me of the lingering awkward feelings. That’s how I had to think about it.

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“Sigh.”

A deep breath escaped, and Kim Chayoung, rubbing his chest, caught my eye and smiled awkwardly.

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“Now that you’ve agreed, feeling regrets?”

“No, just… more than I thought…”

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He stopped mid-sentence, not wanting to say more, though I felt like pressing might reveal his next words. But I didn’t really want to ask.

Lee Jinha picked up the pen to sign the new contract, half impulsively, half defiantly agreeing.

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“Wait, can we tweak the contract a bit?”

Just as I grasped the pen, Kim Chayoung gestured to stop me.

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“I hope this isn’t some petty ploy about splitting the prize money now.”

“Do you think so low of me? Look, it’s about item three here. It says we meet at least twice a week to prepare for the contest. I want to change it to at least four times.”

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Four times? That was too much. I had cut down one part-time job, but I needed the rest to maintain a minimal lifestyle.

The reason I had agreed to Kim Chayoung’s proposal was what? A mix of impulse and defiance, but ultimately, it was for the money. Facing an ex-lover was tolerable to that extent.

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“We don’t have to meet right after classes. We can find time when we both have breaks.”

Realizing Lee Jinha didn’t like the idea, Kim Chayoung added quickly.

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Hmm, squeezing it into lunch or free periods might not be too burdensome. Still, I wanted to see that slick face as little as possible.

“Show me your schedule then.”

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Kim Chayoung reached out his hand.

“Why?”

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Leaning back and narrowing his eyes, Kim Chayoung chuckled.

“I’m not gonna bite. We need to match our free times, right? Or should I wait outside the lecture halls like this?”

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I felt foolish for overreacting. Lee Jinha fumbled for his phone.

“Can’t tell like this. Send it to me.”

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“I’ll set up an open chat.”

Just as he was setting up the chat, his hand swiftly snatched the phone from Lee Jinha.

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“Hey, Kim Chayoung.”

Lee Jinha leaned forward, supporting himself on the table, as he was caught off guard by the sudden move.

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“Stop joking and give it back.”

“If it’s urgent, we might need to call, right? What’s this open chat for?”

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“Give it back. Hey, let’s not cross lines.”

Lee Jinha finally retrieved his phone from Kim Chayoung. The screen showed a phone number, half-typed.

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“Right. So this is your line.”

Kim Chayoung surprisingly handed it back without further fuss, the phone number still displayed.

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“Whatever it is, make sure to pick up when I call.”

“I’ll handle it.”

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After shooting a glare at him, Lee Jinha picked up his bag from the floor.

“Where are you off to?”

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“I’m going to work.”

“Isn’t today your day off? You quit the convenience store, right?”

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“How do you know that?”

Still slinging his bag over his shoulder, Lee Jinha froze. In fact, today was supposed to be his day off from the part-time job he had quit for the contest preparation, but he was filling in for someone else urgently and would be paid one and a half times the normal wage plus transportation.

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“Oh, um. Youngmin hyung mentioned it. Thought we were having dinner together.”

Ah. I must have shared the schedule with Shin Youngmin. If he heard it from him, it wasn’t surprising.

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“I don’t plan to have meals with you, contest aside. I’d rather not see your face more than necessary.”

“Oh? That’s a shame. Was going to treat you to something nice.”

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Tempted for a moment by the mention of good food, I clenched my teeth and turned away. I was no longer the same pitiful Lee Jinha from four years ago.

“Not falling for it, huh? Different from before, I guess.”

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Kim Chayoung murmured quietly, clearly fishing for a reaction. Ignoring him was the right call.

“Class ends at three on Thursday, right? Let’s meet here then. I’ll contact you.”

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“…”

“Lee Jinha. Don’t ignore my calls.”

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With that, Lee Jinha flipped him the middle finger and walked out of the lounge. Behind him, laughter spread.

“Brr, it’s cold.”

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Exiting the humanities building, a sharp wind greeted him as if it had been waiting. Even mid-April, after the cherry blossoms had fallen, the spring air was still unusually chilly. Lee Jinha shrugged his shoulders tightly as he walked down the stairs.

It was strange to have a normal conversation with Kim Chayoung. Last time I saw him, I never thought we’d manage such ordinary talk. His shamelessness somehow made it easier on me.

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Still, the idea of getting entangled with Kim Chayoung again wasn’t appealing.

“It wasn’t such a big deal after all. Got all worked up for nothing.”

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He muttered aloud to himself.

It seemed like the collaboration could end smoothly without any other issues, as long as it was limited to the contest preparation.

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Lee Jinha worked four part-time jobs. Ah, now that he had quit one for the contest, it was down to three. Just the fixed ones, not counting the sporadic gigs, which required all ten fingers to count. Today, he was heading to a substitute spot at a regular pub.

Located a bit away from the school, the pub was styled like a street stall, cheap and generous with portions. Fittingly called “Korean Pub,” the straightforward name belied the fact that it wasn’t frequented much by students from Korea University. Instead, it drew many local office workers.

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“Hyung, you here?”

Jung Woochae, who worked there all week, recognized me. I waved lightly at him and headed to the staff room. “Staff room” was a generous term—it was closer to a shabby storeroom.

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After hanging up my coat casually, I tied on an apron emblazoned with the pub’s logo, large as life.

“Hyung. Orders for tables three, five, and seven. I’ll take table three.”

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“Got it.”

The customers were pouring in unusually fast today. I barely had time to tie my apron before rushing to take orders.

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“Man, what’s up today? Super busy. Why are there so many Korea Uni kids you usually never see?”

“Midterms just ended. Every other bar must be packed. Probably be partying here till finals.”

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I caught my breath after delivering some omelette and spicy whelk salad to a table. Jung Woochae leaned on the counter, groaning.

“Aren’t you from Korea Uni too, hyung? Don’t you join these drinking parties?”

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“I need the money more.”

I snickered at his comment, but my tone was serious.

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Money. It had been a haunting presence ever since I was very young, tormenting Lee Jinha persistently. No matter how much I struggled, it was like being slowly dragged deeper into sticky muck.

“You’re at a good university, hyung. You’ll walk a flower path after graduation, right? Much better than a high school grad like me.”

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“Who knows what the future holds? You might land a better job than me. Back in high school, I couldn’t even afford to buy textbooks.”

Ding-dong. The call bell rang. I entered the additional order for spicy whelk salad into the kitchen and headed back out.

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“How did you get into Korea Uni?”

“Well…”

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Rustle. Just as I started to answer, the orange fabric rustled, and customers entered—two men and one woman, a common group. The woman in the middle muttered about the cold and playfully nudged the man beside her, seemingly seeking his agreement. He responded with a thin smile, scanning the area.

And just like that, Lee Jinha turned and went back into the kitchen. Seeing the person he had been talking to disappear, Jung Woochae looked puzzled.

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“Woochae. Take the new table’s order.”

“Okay.”

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Without much thought, Jung Woochae nodded and walked over to the table with a menu tucked under his arm. Lee Jinha peeked out from behind a kitchen column.

“Kim Chayoung. What are you doing, not sitting down?”

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“Yeah, your legs must be tired. Sit down already.”

The woman lightly tugged at Kim Chayoung’s coat sleeve and pulled him down to a seat. Kim Chayoung, still scanning the room, finally sat down. I wasn’t mistaken.

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Ah, damn. Why do I keep running into Kim Chayoung? After four years without a glimpse of him, why does he keep popping up? Is this year cursed with the three disasters? So sick of it, I even started thinking superstitiously.

“Chayoung oppa, why are you looking around so much? Looking for someone?”

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“Must be looking for a staff member. Ah, there they are.”