LA0S | Chapter 8

Just in time, Jung Woochae reached their table. While the woman pondered over the side dishes, flipping through the menu, Kim Chayoung’s eyes continued to wander around the restaurant.

Lee Jinha, not wanting to be caught in his sight, slipped into the kitchen. The chef, busy in front of the hot stove, asked if something was up. Something up? Obviously.

“A customer was asking how long for the spicy whelk salad.”

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“It’ll take about five more minutes; I’m just boiling the noodles now.”

“I’ll wait and take it out.”

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“Are the customers being difficult? Is it a big deal if it’s not served quickly?”

“They must be really hungry. Please make it a generous serving, boss.”

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I felt bad for the customers who were suddenly deemed difficult, but I had no choice. Stepping out now would surely put me right in Kim Chayoung’s path.

Sorry, customers. I apologized silently and stuck close to the kitchen wall. I had no reason to avoid him per se, but I definitely didn’t want to encounter him either.

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“Hyung, table eight needs clam soup and spicy whelk salad.”

“Okay, I’ll tell the boss.”

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Lee Jinha relayed the order to the chef, who was just lifting the noodles out of the water.

“Spicy whelk is really popular today, huh?”

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He made an OK sign with his thumb and forefinger.

Kim Chayoung had stopped looking around, his expression not exactly cheerful.

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An ex-lover, no, a fling… Ah, even the word ‘fling’ sounds ridiculous. Anyway, here he was, unable to hide his downturned eyes, even though he’d been all smiles before.

“It’s a place chosen by Chayoung oppa, so it must be good, right?”

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“I was surprised when I heard he’d be joining us. If the others knew we came together, they’d be shocked,” said a man accompanying the woman. They seemed unaware of Kim Chayoung’s poor mood as they chattered away.

“I need the restroom.”

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The woman, with a small handbag over her shoulder, excused herself, and the man scooted his plastic chair closer to the table.

“Is it because of Shin Yuna? You included me just because coming alone with her would be awkward, right?”

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The man seemed half convinced of his own conclusion. Kim Chayoung, looking distracted, did not respond.

Shin Yuna. That must be the name of the woman who had just left. Given they came together, she was likely in the same department or perhaps even the same club as Kim Chayoung. The possibilities were many.

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Come to think of it, Kim Chayoung had been active in extracurriculars since high school. He was not just class president but also a student council member, and took charge of festivals. More precisely, people wouldn’t leave him alone, always dragging him here and there. Kim Chayoung was always surrounded by people, and everyone seemed to like him—a lot of energetic young people gathered around him. Strangely, both boys and girls liked him more than seemed usual.

…Well, I was no different.

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“Shin Yuna is pretty great, isn’t she? Honestly, not just great but the prettiest among the freshmen. You know how many seniors want to buy her a meal? And I see you talking with Shin Yuna quite a bit.”

They must be from the same department. Kim Chayoung having entered university this year made him a classmate of Shin Yuna.

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“Seung-yong hyung, I’m not really…”

“What? Were you two talking about something?”

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Shin Yuna had returned, her lips noticeably more colorful, likely from a touch-up. She smiled and took her seat, subtly scooting her chair closer to Kim Chayoung.

“No, let’s just drink,” said Seung-yong, who started opening a bottle of soju and pouring it into glasses.

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Kim Chayoung merely smirked and sat down, to which Shin Yuna playfully chided him. Her teasing was not mean but rather flirtatious.

“Jinha, the spicy whelk and soju are ready.”

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Lee Jinha cautiously emerged from the kitchen with only one of the two plates of spicy whelk salad, thankfully delivering it far from Kim Chayoung’s table, undetected.

“Aren’t you taking the other one?”

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“Woochae will serve it.”

Knowing Jung Woochae was busy with other tables, I reluctantly ignored him. I didn’t want to bump into Kim Chayoung outside of school. When Woochae returned, I quickly handed him the plate for table eight.

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“Table eight.”

“Ah, hyung. I’m swamped right now; could you…”

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“I’ll handle the closing today, including the restroom cleanup.”

“Really? No take-backs?”

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Woochae rushed off, grateful for the powerful card I had played—the promise of restroom cleaning.

“Here’s your order of spicy whelk noodles. Enjoy.”

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“Thank you,” Kim Chayoung said, his gratitude sounding a bit absent.

When will they leave? I hoped they’d drink up and go soon.

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“Hmm, we’re out of canned yellow peaches.”

“I’ll go get some, boss.”

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This was my chance to step out, maybe the last one for the day. Lee Jinha eagerly volunteered.

“Why the sudden enthusiasm? You usually avoid this.”

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“They’re paying time and a half today. It’s worth the effort.”

Lee Jinha took off his apron and pulled his hat down as far as it would go.

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“Anything else you need? I’ll get it while I’m out.”

I bought five cans of yellow peaches, the boss’s favorite chocolate bars, and a couple of packets of dried squid, just in case.

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“I really don’t want to go back in.”

I lingered outside as long as I could, resisting the urge to just go home and sneaked back in through the back door. I slapped my apron back on and surreptitiously glanced at table eight.

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Seung-yong hyung and Shin Yuna were chatting, but Kim Chayoung’s seat was empty.

“Woochae, did you take a new order for table eight?”

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“No, it’s been quiet. Oh, that ridiculously handsome guy? Haven’t seen him for a while.”

“Since when?”

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“About 20 minutes ago?”

Woochae was wiping cutlery as he replied.

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If Kim Chayoung had been gone for 20 minutes, he must have left. Just knowing he wasn’t here was a relief. At the same time, it was absurd that Woochae remembered Kim Chayoung. How could he possibly keep track of when customers left?

“Come on, how could you not remember that face? I felt the same shock I did when I first saw you.”

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“I didn’t say anything.”

“Are you being humble or do you really not know?”

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It was one of those moments when you realize Koreans really can’t start a sentence without ‘no’.

“What do I not know?”

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“That you’re ridiculously good-looking. Do I really need to say it out loud for you to be satisfied?”

Woochae grumbled half-jokingly, half-seriously. His ridiculousness made me mess up his hair even more. He was much shorter than me, so I could do so freely.

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“I need to add an order.”

That’s when it happened. A low voice sounded from behind.

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“Welcome to…”

I turned around with a customer service smile, only to freeze.

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Kim Chayoung, whom I thought had left, was standing right in front of me.

We stared at each other silently for a moment. Kim Chayoung’s eyes flicked toward Woochae’s head, which I was ruffling. My fingers twitched in his curly hair.

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You said you went home. Why are you here?

“That employee seems to have just started his shift.”

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He was talking to Woochae but looking at me.

“Uh? No, Jinha hyung has been here since 7.”

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“What else do you need? Sir.”

Ignoring Woochae’s words, I kept my tone strictly professional. Hmm. The word ‘sir’ made Kim Chayoung’s eyebrows twitch. He then stroked his sharp jawline and nodded.

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I couldn’t understand why he nodded. It likely meant nothing, but it felt like I was being judged, which was unpleasant.

“There’s a bell under the table. Next time, you can just press that.”

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“I didn’t want to interrupt since you two seemed to be having a nice chat. Couldn’t bring myself to press it.”

His ambiguous remark furrowed my brow. The man who spoke shrugged off any discernible intent and returned to his table. The others asked where he’d been, thinking he’d gone home without saying anything.

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No further orders came in.

✥

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“Ah, damn it. Really, the class is canceled. I can see it, but I can’t believe it.”

Yoon Sejin muttered dejectedly as he looked at the empty classroom. Then, he tugged at his hair, trying to forget the frustration.

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“If I’d known it was canceled, I wouldn’t have come.”

“The notice was up in the group chat. You dragged me here even though you didn’t believe it.”

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“It’s ridiculous, though. Who cancels a class 10 minutes before it starts?”

Yoon Sejin was outraged. This was the only class he had scheduled today, a three-hour long major course. It was even more annoying considering he had taken a taxi to avoid being late.

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“The professors should get a warning if they cancel on the day like this. If it happens more than twice, automatic F in the course evaluations.”

“What if they announce the cancellation in advance?”

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“I’d be profoundly grateful. We’d treat our professor with utmost respect.”