OTC Chapter 8

Early in the morning, espresso, thick as honey, dripped from the portafilter into a small cup.

Eunkyo wasn’t a coffee expert, but she had heard that Italians used espresso with sugar to cure hangovers, and she was currently conducting an experiment to see if the remedy actually worked.

“Are you crazy?”

Kim Haeda, a man of extreme opinions, stared at her with disdain as she added sugar to her espresso.

“I’m not crazy. I drank last night. So I’m trying to sober up.”

“If you’re going to do that, you might as well have some kongnamul-guk (soybean sprout soup). You can’t even handle Americano; are you trying to pass out from espresso?”

“But still…”

However, as he’d said, Kim Haeda was a man of extremes. Before Eunkyo could stop him, he snatched the espresso, poured it into a glass of ice, and presented her with a weak iced coffee.

Eunkyo’s face crumpled. Sweet Americano wasn’t to her taste.

“How much did you drink? With whom? Alone?”

There he goes again with the interrogation. 

Thanks to the ice-cold coffee, her head, which had been a mess, felt a little clearer. Of course, that didn’t mean last night’s events would simply disappear.

“I’ll just sit here for a bit and then come out. I have a headache.”

“Why don’t you just take the day off?”

“No. I can’t do that right before my day off.”

“Tsk, fine. Just rest until I call you. Later.”

Winking mischievously, Eunkyo left Haeda in charge of the counter, and went into the baking room for a moment.

The rich aroma of butter and the sweet, sticky scent of blueberry compote greeted her.

“Ha…”

Why him, of all people?

She let out a sigh that sounded more like a groan and ran both hands over her face. Spreading her fingers, she stared blankly at the beige cotton curtains.

The previous night’s visit to Lee Jaeheon’s studio had been a tragedy born from a collaboration of alcohol and her nosiness.

Her reason for going to see him had been simple.

She knew that his basement studio didn’t have air conditioning yet, and the weather forecast had warned of a sweltering tropical night.

He must be so hot and uncomfortable. 

It was natural to develop an excessive sense of intimacy after sharing a pleasant drink together.

She felt quite sorry for Lee Jaeheon, who had come to return her things and had ended up unexpectedly spending the night in the studio.

So, she had intended to offer him her sofa instead of the dusty studio. Since she didn’t have his number, she had decided it would be better to go down and get him herself.

The origin and development of her thought process had been simple and clear, but the result had been far from ideal.

“…Why did he call my name there?”

Eunkyo crouched down, covering her burning face with her hands.

That night, she had hesitated outside Lee Jaeheon’s studio, wondering if she should knock. Then, as the motion sensor light turned off, a sudden wave of fear washed over her, and she knocked. However, Lee Jaeheon either didn’t hear her knock or chose not to open the door.

It was the alcohol that fueled her rudeness. The door wasn’t locked and opened smoothly as if freshly oiled.

She seemed to have been reassured by the languid music drifting from within. However, the sight of Lee Jaeheon that greeted her was shocking.

The charming smile and subtly languid expression he usually wore were gone, replaced by an irritated and sensitive demeanor. There he was, stroking himself, his whole body tense. He was so engrossed that he didn’t even notice her arrival. The look in his eyes, the veins bulging on his forehead, the traces of sweat or perhaps something else, made him look like someone who had stepped straight out of a movie.

Of course, it would have been an X-rated, ultra-high-quality hardcore porno.

She should have turned back then. She had learned once again that prying into someone else’s space, and intruding on their private moments, comes with a price.

Frozen in shock, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Just as she was about to quietly close the door, her name, spoken aloud, stopped her in her tracks.

Everyone had a private life. As adults, there was nothing wrong with it, and moreover, it was Lee Jaeheon’s personal space.

The problem was that she hadn’t left. Why on earth had she stood there, frozen like a statue?

“Ha… I’m so pathetic.”

After crouching against the wall for a long time, Eunkyo finally got up and went outside at the sounds of customers rushing in. Haeda, who was taking orders, glanced at her. She nodded in response to his silent question of whether she was feeling better.

“They have strawberry cake! I want strawberry cake. Should we get some to go?” 

“Sunbae-nim isn’t in the studio. Let’s just eat here.” 

“Just an iced Americano for me.”

A group of people who looked to be in their twenties chose slices of cake and drinks, each presenting their own cards. After meticulously paying separately, they settled at the largest table in the cafe.

“I’ll make the coffee, so you get the cakes.”

“Okay.”

She carefully took out the cake, laden with strawberry slices between layers of sweet, fluffy cream, placed it on plates, and set out forks for each person. Then, Haeda, who was making coffee, whispered,

“They’re the tenant’s friends. Give them some cookies as a service.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But the studio seemed empty today. Without air conditioning, it’s probably hard to work there during the day.”

“Oh, right.”

Placing the prettiest cookies on a plate, Eunkyo served them, feeling much lighter.

She felt relieved that Lee Jaeheon wasn’t there. Honestly, she didn’t have the courage to face him right now. Of course, he wouldn’t know, but she felt like she’d committed a crime and wanted to run away.

Tapping her heels with the end of her sling bag, Eunkyo finally pushed Lee Jaeheon out of her mind and opened the notebook she had left on the counter.

The words she had carefully written down on a day long past, the memory of which was now faint, came alive beneath her fingertips.

The memory of that day was like the scent of freshly dried laundry, like the feeling of cold summer rain on her skin.

Caress me. So I can swallow you whole.

Scribbles represented raw instincts and unadorned subconscious thoughts. The same was true for the phrases in her notebook. What had she been longing for so desperately?

“What are you looking at, smiling like that?”

Kim Haeda poked her cheek as she chuckled and then frowned, holding out his phone.

“I posted on the part-time job site yesterday, and I’ve already received this many resumes. Pick five of these. We’ll interview them. We’re only hiring one person.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Since you’ll be working with them more often, you should choose.”

“Okay, I understand. Um… I can choose by the end of this week, right?”

“Yeah.”

Glaring at Kim Haeda, whose tone lacked even the slightest hint of kindness, Eunkyo cleared all distracting thoughts from her mind. But as she made coffee, Lee Jaeheon’s face kept popping up, and the heat of that night brushed against her senses.

Truly, it had been a string of maddening days, and after that, she hadn’t seen Lee Jaeheon for four days.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Oh? Lee Jaeheon! Jaeheon!”

Coming out from the hallway after meeting with his professor, Jaeheon stopped at the sound of a familiar voice calling out to him. He was exhausted from being cooped up in the student lounge for days, working on a group project.

The hallway was lined with old vending machines and large, unopened potted plants. The person running towards him was Jo Sunggeun.

He seemed to be on his way to meet with a professor, carrying an elegantly wrapped gift box and dressed impeccably in a suit, unlike their previous encounter.

Jaeheon, who had one hand in his pocket, relaxed his stern expression and greeted Sunggeun with a bright smile.

“Hyung, what brings you here?”

Sunggeun, catching his breath, grinned and shook the gift box in his hand.

“I came to see our professor. The recording we did, the internal response has been amazing. It’s bound to be a hit, so I came to thank him.”

“Ah… When is it coming out?”

“Probably next month, after editing and scheduling are finalized. It’ll be out sooner than expected. Anyway… thank you. It’s thanks to you.”

Sunggeun suddenly patted Jaeheon on the shoulder. Lee Jaeheon’s dark eyes flickered towards the spot where Sunggeun’s hand had touched him.

“No, it’s because the project was well-planned.”

“Still, if you hadn’t recommended Eunkyo, we wouldn’t have gotten such a great storyboard. Contacting Jung Eunkyo was a stroke of genius. How did you even know her?” 

“Ah, just by chance. Please keep it a secret that I recommended Eunkyo noona, though. She’ll feel pressured.”

“Yeah, knowing her personality, that’s definitely possible. Ah! Come to the preview screening. I’ll invite Eunkyo too.”

“I will.”

Jaeheon smiled, his long, deep eyes crinkling softly. Sunggeun, going a step further, stood on tiptoe and patted Jaeheon’s head.

“You’re a really good guy. The real deal. I’ll treat you properly next time, and I’ll ask for your help again.”

He smiled brightly, and his hand, gripping the strap of his duffel bag, tightened.

“Okay, sunbae. Ah… my classmates are waiting for me. I’ll get going. Say hello to the professor for me.”

“Yeah, sure. See you later!”

“Yes.”

He stood there silently until Sunggeun disappeared into the professor’s office. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, then brushed off his shoulder, a flicker of displeasure in his gesture.

It had been a coincidence that he was introduced to Jo Sunggeun by his professor.

Jo Sunggeun was the CEO of a startup that his professor had invested in, and he’d managed to gather talented people to freely contribute to the project using his connections. All that was left was the narration and the finalized script.

At first, he had thought it was a bothersome and tedious proposition. That is, until he was asked to recommend a published writer. *

“Lee Jaeheon! Ah, why are you so late? I’m dying from the heat!”

Jaeheon’s classmates, sitting on a bench, waved at him, their faces pressed against portable fans.

Chuckling, Jaeheon approached them. Donggyun, who had been enjoying the wind from the fan, pointed at the building entrance with a puzzled look.

“But that person… isn’t she the owner of the cafe on the first floor of your studio building?”