Chapter 2
Why is he here?
The part-timer who ran the café while Yoon-ah studied for the college exam was Young-won. She had no idea his major was Business, so her mind went blank.
She couldn’t understand the coincidence. With her lips barely moving, she asked carefully:
“Um… did you know? Is that why we got paired up?”
“No.”
“Then how…?”
If it wasn’t that, then it really was a crazy coincidence. This time, he asked:
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“…Tell you what?”
“That you applied to Yeonhee University, Business Department.”
“Oh… Was that… something I should have told you…?”
She had kept quiet to be considerate. Was that the wrong choice?
While Yoon-ah watched his unreadable face, he changed the subject.
“Do you have first period?”
“No. On Tuesdays I start second period.”
“Come out.”
Before she could finish answering, he was already walking. Startled, Yoon-ah hurried after him.
He headed to the parking lot, straight to her white Benz. He unlocked it, opened the driver’s door, then looked at her.
“Get in the passenger seat.”
“…Where are we going? I don’t have much time—”
“Exactly. So we need to move fast.”
He cut her off like he had no time to waste and got in. Worried, she checked her watch and did as he said.
As soon as the car moved, she asked anxiously:
“Where are we going? I only have about an hour before second period.”
“The café. When we get there, I’ll swing the car around. In that time, change into what you wear for work. If you sit in a classroom dressed like that, you’ll stand out.”
“…Ah…”
She looked down at her outfit. Why hadn’t she thought to wear the café shirt and jeans? Embarrassed, she smoothed her dress.
“I overdid it, right? So excited I couldn’t sleep. With too much time, I fussed over every little thing…”
“The problem is the direction of your effort.”
“Haha. So that’s how it looked to you too.”
She laughed heartily and took off her pearl earrings. She was grateful—he pointed out the problem and gave a quick fix.
“Really, without you I might’ve shut the café down and become a lifelong joke. Thank you, always.”
Though he was four years younger, he was always so reliable. Getting help again made her feel shy.
It had been pure luck when Young-won suddenly walked into her just-opened café a week after opening. He’d come right from a workout in training clothes, no résumé, just saw the help-wanted sign on the window and stepped in.
She hadn’t even posted online yet, so he was the first applicant. Still, she couldn’t interview him with no paperwork at all, so she quickly found a résumé template online. She planned to have him print and bring it later if she hired him.
He answered in a soft, low voice. The only item he asked about was the university field.
- “Is this… required?”
- “Oh, it’s not. It’s just on the form, so I asked. You don’t have to be a college student.”
- “I am a college student, but I’m on a leave.”
Come to think of it, why hadn’t he told her then? Yeonhee isn’t a school you’re embarrassed to say.
Anyway, he looked proper, could start right away, and—best of all—had time because he was on leave. He’d said he could only work until March before classes started again, but she needed study time for the exam more urgently, so she decided to worry about that later.
Feeling grateful again, Yoon-ah said:
“I didn’t tell you we’d be at the same university because I thought it might pressure you, since your annoying boss would be there too. I only found out you were at Yeonhee by chance. But that your major is Business… I really didn’t know. Sorry if I surprised you.”
“…Nothing to apologize for.”
They arrived. Yoon-ah yanked the door open and jumped out.
“Thanks, Young-won! I’ll change and be right out!”
Watching her sprint to the café, forehead dropping onto the steering wheel, he let out a small sigh.
“Ha… Why do I talk like that…”
He felt like he’d never spoken gently to her. Truth is, he wasn’t warm with anyone. He sighed again. He regretted that line—“the direction of your effort”. He could’ve said it more softly. Maybe it annoyed him because it made him sound like a hypocrite.
It wasn’t a lie, though. The moment she walked in—bang—like a drama heroine in slow motion, he’d gone blank, then told her she was dressed wrong. Ridiculous, right?
Until now he’d only seen her with no makeup, in a café uniform or comfy tracksuit. It was his first time seeing her all dressed up.
He also learned her exact age today. Before the semester, their class chat had gossiped about a mystery older freshman—a 27-year-old woman. When she walked into the small lecture hall and people whispered, he realized it was her.
Seeing her all dressed up, twenty-seven made sense.
“….”
What are you thinking, about someone carrying a painful wound? Idiot. His face hardened.
He had applied to Café Yoon on impulse. He wasn’t broke, but wasting the whole leave felt pathetic. “I did a part-time job” would be a decent label. The location wasn’t great, so it probably wouldn’t be too busy.
Then he met a boss who was, out of nowhere, very pretty—objectively pretty.
“You’re my first applicant. Thanks for coming, Young-won.”
Black hair and eyes, a big frame—everything about him was the opposite of her. She was small, her colors soft and pale—but she sparkled, and her bright smile was especially pretty.
Another big difference: her face showed everything she felt. Happy? She grinned. Unhappy? She pouted like a squirrel who lost its acorn.
Even while buried in exam study, her ups and downs showed. That was… kind of fun.
He remembered what his only real friend, Gitae, said when he visited the café:
“In a quiet café like this, being alone all day with a boss like that… I’m so jealous, man.”
So even Gitae thought she was pretty. No wonder today, seeing her all dressed up, Young-won spaced out. Anyone would.
Or is it just because I’ve never dated?
He and Gitae had zero dating experience, so who knew. He let the thought go.
“…It’s because she’s like my older sister.”
Meaning: why she felt different. It started because she reminded him of his sister, who was scarred by divorce—so, a bit of sympathy.
But at some point, he simply didn’t want to see Yoon-ah’s bright face collapse.
“Hey, that woman… I think I’ve seen her before?”
“Right? Me too…”
Maybe that’s why those whispers stabbed his ears. While he was in the army, a single photo of Yoon-ah had been made public and was still floating around the internet. He’d heard she even hired a “digital undertaker,” but more than a year later, it still wasn’t perfectly erased.
From that moment, his head flipped. He could only think: get her changed. With her looks, that outfit would draw too much attention and curiosity. Their slow business had been a blessing; no need to ruin it now.
“Was I… supposed to tell you?”
Her confused question snapped him back. She didn’t owe him anything—especially not which school she applied to. What were they to each other, anyway?
As he turned the car back toward the café, a text came from Gitae:
[The mentee you were supposed to have—No. 5—is a guy.]
“….”
Young-won pulled a crumpled slip of paper from his jeans pocket: 36—the mentee number from the mentor draw. Another bubble popped up:
[Kim Gitae will not forget today. Your living room = PlayStation room, OK?]
The truth: the slip he drew was 5, and the one right next to him—Gitae’s—was 36. Because he’d lost his head earlier, his body moved before his brain, and he switched the slips.
When Gitae spun theories about the older student, Young-won had only thought: whoever mentors her, poor them. Big age-gap repeaters often don’t fit in; they become voluntary loners.
He had nothing to say to Gitae, who’d dreamed of a fresh campus romance from day one. When Gitae learned Yoon-ah was his partner, he was more than happy—he covered his mouth like a dream had come true.
Looking back, he didn’t need to switch mentees—he just needed to switch her clothes. Why did he overdo it? He couldn’t understand himself, but he could admit he was being a hypocrite. He was thinking how to reply when Yoon-ah came out of the café.
He shoved the slip back into his pocket and quickly texted:
