A Kiss For A Kiss

10

It had been nearly two weeks since I'd heard from Jungkook or anyone involved in his criminal circle. My career, which had once felt like my life's passion, now weighed heavily on my shoulders. The restaurant was gaining more attention than ever, thanks to a recent grand event, and with that came a deluge of responsibilities. Improvements to the speed of our service, refining the elegance of the place, and dealing with a flood of new orders — it was all becoming overwhelming.

Lisa, lucky as ever, was off enjoying her vacation, carefree and sun-soaked in some tropical paradise. Meanwhile, I was left behind to handle the chaos.

"Yes, sir," I answer the phone calmly, trying to sound composed. "Of course. Grace is in charge of that, but I made sure to review the charts and results myself."

Grace. She's not just a coworker — she's a walking headache. My boss adored her for reasons I've learned to overlook. She got the princess treatment while doing next to nothing, sitting on her ass all week and still collecting her paycheck.

On the other end of the line, my boss coughs roughly before speaking again. "Good," he drawls. "I'll make sure to give you a raise by the end of the month, Park Chaeyoung. You've earned a bonus."

Maybe my boss wasn't so bad after all.

"Thank you, sir." I respond with barely contained excitement, resisting the urge to let out a victorious giggle. Once the call ends, I lean back, feeling a little lighter. Despite the pressure, I've somehow managed to make time for songwriting. Now that Jungkook's out of my life for a bit, I can finally focus on things that matter—like music. I haven't touched my guitar or piano in a while, but I plan to soon.

...

"A cappuccino, please," I order at a nearby café. "With milk on the side."

"Alright," the cashier responds cheerfully. "That'll be 4,700 won, please."

I hand her five thousand won and head to a small table in the corner, my laptop bag slung over my shoulder. A minute later, my coffee arrives, and I take a deep breath, feeling inspired as I open my laptop to start working.

Two hours later, my eyes feel like they're about to roll into the back of my skull from staring at the screen too long. Just as I stand, ready to head back to the apartment, a hand touches my shoulder. My stomach drops. Please, not him.

I turn slowly, locking eyes with someone all too familiar.

"Can I help you?" I ask, furrowing my brow.

"Chaeyoung?" The man steps closer, his voice laced with surprise.

I instinctively take a step back, crossing my arms. "Do I know you?"

"Chaeyoung," he pleads, voice soft but insistent. "Don't you remember me? It's me—Chul."

Every ounce of air leaves my lungs, my blood running cold. Chul. The man who lied, conned, and tried to kill me. Chul, the one who ruined my life. And now here he was, standing in front of me, acting like we were old friends.

He looks different—older, leaner, with a scruffy beard that wasn't there five years ago. But it's him. The man who nearly destroyed me. And now, he dares to show his face again?

"No," I lie, keeping my voice steady though my body feels rigid. "I don't know you."

I gather my things and walk briskly out of the café, but Chul follows, reaching out to stop me.

I spin around, glaring at him. "Get away from me, you pervert." My voice is low, trembling with anger. "I said I don't know you."

"Your mouth says one thing, but your eyes tell the truth, Chae," he murmurs, stepping closer. "Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily?"