I was staring at Park Hanuel like a certified creep. Not a cute, bashful K-drama lead kind of stare. No. I was giving off "romantic stalker who probably writes fanfiction about you at night" energy.
Every five seconds, I peeked at him like a malfunctioning security camera. Left. Right. Left again. Was he looking yet? Nope? Good.
Then it happened.
He noticed me.
Our eyes met for precisely 0.4 seconds, and I panicked like someone just played the national anthem at a party.
My cheeks started heating up like a malfunctioning rice cooker.
I looked away faster than a broke student walks past Zara during a sale.
I hope he didn't see me drooling.
I hope I didn't look like a feral squirrel.
I hope my face doesn't look like a tomato about to self-destruct.
And then.
He walked up to yuna.
AND ME.
Oh no.
Oh UH-OH.
Sound the alarms. Someone bring me pepper spray. I wasn't emotionally ready for this.
"Hi…" he said, voice soft, with that small smile that used to destroy my entire nervous system.
My heart exploded. I think a neuron actually did a backflip.
"H-hey…" I croaked, like I had swallowed a frog mid-sentence. WHY DID I SOUND LIKE A DYING RADIO?
Yuna, however—
"HEY."
She said it like she was greeting a pimple.
Her voice carried enough hostility to burn down a small cottage.
"Oh my god, you're still alive?" she asked, his name laced with venom and passive-aggressiveness.
"Didn't see you there, Min yuna.."
"I thought people like you only came out during Mercury retrograde." he completed.
I died internally.
"I'm not interested in rubbing my ass on other's faces like you." she said, arms crossed, smile tighter than my jeans post-buffet.
"Still as sharp-tongued as ever."
"And you're still as self-obsessed as your high school essay about how Newton personally inspired you."
I snorted. Loudly.
Hanuel blinked at me. "You find that funny?"
"No," I said quickly. "I'm very mature. Extremely mature. I pay taxes."
Yuna rolled her eyes. "We both know she doesn't."
I tried to mentally stab her.
"Anyway," Hanuel sighed. "It's good to see you both."
She fake-smiled. "Oh, the pleasure is entirely… fictional."
For five awkward minutes, they exchanged sarcasm like professional fencing opponents.
I stood there like a third wheel strapped to a collapsing tricycle.
I tried not to look at Hanuel like he was the last mozzarella stick on Earth.
Yuna, in the meantime, looked like she wanted to flick him into the sun.
Sensing the awkward energy of a rejected group project, Yuna suddenly yelled,
"Oh my GOD, Ji-Hye?!"
No Ji-Hye was in sight.
But she vanished anyway, pretending to spot her across the room.
Classic Yuna Hit-And-Run.
Now I was alone.
With him.
"Hey," he said again, smiling slightly.
Why did that simple word hit like a K-drama OST?
This was already the most awkward reunion since Taylor Swift met Kanye at the VMAs.
"Hi…" I replied. Again. WHY DO I SOUND LIKE A CUSTOMER SERVICE BOT?!
"Yuna still hates me, huh?" he asked, scratching his head like he didn't know he was Satan's intern.
"I guess so,"
"What about you?" he asked.
"Huh?" My brain did a triple somersault.
"Nothing," he muttered, sighing like a man who just got rejected by a vending machine.
OH, I KNOW WHAT THAT 'NOTHING' MEANS, SIR. YOU'RE ASKING IF I STILL HATE YOU AFTER OUR BREAKUP, AREN'T YOU? NEWSFLASH: I HATE THAT I DON'T HATE YOU.
"So… how's life? I haven't heard about you since graduation."
Because he blocked me on everything but Gmail.
"Missed me?"
And bam.
There he is.
The Cocky Hanuel.
Back like a sequel nobody asked for.
Sir, this isn't Netflix. Nobody wants season 2 of your nonsense.
I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my past regrets, and gave him a friendly (but not really) punch on the arm.
He chuckled and leaned back dramatically like I had Thor's hammer in my fist.
Relax, drama queen. That punch had the impact of a bunny sneeze.
"What do you do for a living now? Still begging?" I asked, sweetly. Okay, maybe more like passive-aggressively. Okay fine, it was a taunt.
"For a second chance? Yes."
My heart did a little jump-rope session.
"A second chance to leave the mental asylum, right? How did you even escape in the first place?!"
He burst out laughing.
"You're still the same"
Excuse me???
WHAT DO YOU MEAN "STILL THE SAME"?!
I've glowed up, thank you very much. My skin's clear. My fashion sense? Elevated. I'm wearing Dior, darling. DIOR. Do you know how broke I used to be?! I once cried over a 2 dollar eyeliner!
"I've changed a LOT actually!" I blurted. "I've become way prettier. Also, this blazer? DIOR. Past me couldn't even pronounce Dior properly, okay?! I thought it was 'Dee-or'!"
He widened his eyes and laughed hysterically again.
Did I say something funny?
"No no! I didn't mean it like that—I meant your personality, Mimi. Not your appearance."
I blinked.
Did he just call me... Mimi?
The forbidden nickname.
The sacred three-syllable sound that only very select VIPs were allowed to use.
My parents.
Yuna.
And… him.
That name hadn't entered the airspace since our breakup.
My brain short-circuited.
"Don't call me that," I snapped.
WTH, Mira??
Why did you just say that? That was his chance! The Plot!! You're ruining the plot!!
"Oh. Sorry. I just… slipped." he muttered, sighing like he was auditioning for a sad OST.
"I'll draw my line from now on."
He actually looked guilty.
I sighed dramatically, rubbing my forehead like I had a migraine sponsored by regret.
"I didn't mean it like that," I mumbled, voice cracking like a teen in puberty. "I just—I need a minute. Washroom."
And I bolted like a spy in stilettos, heels clicking like guilt bullets down the marble hallway.
Normal washroom? Out of service. Obviously. Because the universe is my #1 hater.
So I did what any unhinged, emotionally unstable girl with good eyeliner would do—I barged into the VIP washroom like I paid taxes here.
I did my business. Elegant. Poised. Internally screaming.
I flushed my regrets and washed my sins.
Was that marble scented soap? Rich people are built different.
I came out, wiping my hands like a graceful queen when—
I saw him.
Mr. Jeon.
My BOSS.
My legs immediately started shaking.
If he found out that I took a half-day leave for a "family emergency" and was now partying in a five-star restaurant… I was going to be unemployed, homeless, and probably in hiding.
He was sitting across a woman I didn't recognize. Business dinner? Secret girlfriend? Satan's intern? No clue. But he had that expression on— the cold, unreadable one that said, "I see all. I judge all."
And worse?
He looked up.
At me.
My fight-or-flight activated. I dove behind a decorative plant like it was a military shield.
"What did you get yourself into, Mira?!" I whispered-screamed to myself. "Why didn't you just stay home and eat instant noodles in peace?!"
I peeked again.
Mr. Jeon scanned the restaurant like a literal hawk.
I swear I heard eagle noises in the background.
Then, someone ran past his field of vision.
A woman.
ME.
I was sprinting.
Full-on Mission: Impossible mode.
Oh my god.
I darted for the exit, trying to make a quick getaway. The blazer would've looked so familiar. I wear this to work all the time.
I ran as fast as my heels could carry me toward the door, praying to every single deity that I could escape.
I leaned against a pillar to catch my breath, telling myself, "This is fine. I've got this. No one saw me. I'm okay."
Just as I started to relax, I heard the unmistakable sound of Mr. Jeon's footsteps.
Oh. My. God.
Panic set in.
I darted for the underground parking lot, weaving through the crowd of people as fast as possible, praying he wouldn't see me. But I swear, he was right behind me like a hungry vulture. I was not ready to face him today.
And then—
I heard footsteps.
Behind me.
Fast ones.
I turned slightly.
MR. JEON WAS FOLLOWING ME.
Oh.
My.
God.
I ran faster like Usain bolt and hid behind a car, my heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to break free. I peeked out, only to see him scanning the area like an eagle hunting for its prey.
He stopped a few feet away, breathing steadily, eyes scanning the lot.
This was it. My funeral. Tell Yuna to water my plants.
I swear I heard a hawk scream in the distance.
What do I do?
I couldn't get into my car—it was in the ground floor parking and my keys were in my purse.
BACK UPSTAIRS ON THE TABLE.
My breath caught. Should I make a run for it upstairs? The elevator was just a few steps away...
I sprinted for it, hoping I could get away without him noticing.
And of course, as luck would have it, just as I was about to hit the elevator button, I saw him.
He saw me.
And he ran.
Towards me.
I darted inside just as the doors closed.
"Please think I'm a thief. Please think I'm a thief," I whispered to myself as the elevator whizzed up to the first floor.
I reached our table and grabbed my purse like a man steals the idol in Indiana Jones.
Just as I turned to escape—
"Where are you going?"
Hanuel's voice.
He GRABBED my wrist gently like we were in a slow-mo romantic scene, but this was NOT the time!
"I-I have work tomorrow!" I laughed nervously. "So I gotta go sleep early—beauty sleep, haha…"
I wanted to bash my face into the wall for that excuse. BEAUTY SLEEP?! What am I, a Disney princess?!
"But it's just 5."
OH GOD.
MY BRAIN WAS ABOUT TO POP.
Then I saw him.
Mr. Jeon. Entering the non-VIP section. OUR section.
OH YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME.
I panicked and immediately sat down beside Hanuel. Not next to him. Not across from him. I slid under his arm like a penguin seeking shelter.
Hanuel looked at me like I had just lost my mind.
Which… I had.
"Are you okay…?"
"No," I whispered from under his arm. "I'm hiding from my boss. Please act normal."
Before he could process that absolutely wild sentence—
Mr. Jeon saw me.
He paused.
Our eyes met.
His stare said:
"I will ruin your career"
But he said nothing.
Just turned and walked out.
I swear the ground shook beneath me. I slowly came out from under Hanuel's arm like a spy emerging from a bomb shelter.
Hanuel stared at me. "What just happened?"
I groaned dramatically and sipped from someone else's wine glass.
"I think I'm unemployed now"