𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐎𝐧 | ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵐᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ʰᵉⁱʳ

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

Taeoh finds himself in a dimly lit pub with low ceilings and thick wooden beams, where the air smells like beer and roasted meat. There's a warm buzz of laughter and conversation throughout the room. At the end of the room is an empty stage with an abandoned mic stand in its centre. The lighting hurts his eyes a little. Taeoh trails after Seri's dad, who seems to know almost everyone here. Liam had ducked out from coming, claiming he had an early morning train to catch back to Oxford, leaving Taeoh and Myeongseok alone to face the crowd. Taeoh feels conspicuous in the narrow space, unsure if he should be relieved or anxious at the thought of being "taken to the pub to relax."

Someone in the crowd is playing a hearty tune on the violin as they settle at a corner table. A group of men by the bar notices them. One of them, a burly black man with a clean-shaven head and a booming laugh, saunters over to thump Myeongseok on his shoulder. "Who's this then, Flynn?" the man asks, grinning at Taeoh. "Another one of yours?"

"Hah? Oh, aye. Peter, this is—" Myeongseok opens his mouth to explain, but the man, clearly drunk, speaks over him excitedly.

"My Moira told me about 'im." He directs his attention to Taeoh, who sits a little too stiffly in his chair, painfully aware of how awkward he must look. "You're little Sinéad's fella, aren't you?"

Taeoh blinks, trying to decipher the thick accent. "We're just friends," he explains with a nervous smile, offering his hand for a shake. Out of habit, he bows his head. "My name's Taeoh. It's nice to—"

"Friends, eh?" Peter interrupts with a hearty laugh, clapping Taeoh on the back so hard he stumbles. "Friends and you already have two wains between you. Theo, you said?"

"No. It's Tae—" he tries to correct him, but his voice is drowned out as more men gather around their table.

A brown-skinned man with a scar on his chin hovers over Seri's dad, cradling a pint of peer with care, "Alright, Flynnie? That Nade's fella, is it?"

Before Myeongseok can answer, Peter plops down beside Taeoh, grinning ear to ear. "His name's Theo," he declares as if they've been best friends forever.

"No, it's not actually—"

It takes effort to hide his exasperation when Peter bellows over him. "Next round is on Theo, boys!" A cheer goes up, and Taeoh doesn't dare to think of protesting as the men order their drinks with grins and loud banter.

Myeongseok gives him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward. "Leave him be, Pete. The lad's terrified. He's too young to be a father."

"We weren't," Peter counters with a tilt of his glass in his direction.

"Our times were different," Myeongseok sighs, shaking his head. "Now, give him a wee bit of space. I brought him here for a breather."

He chortles, beer splashing from his glass down to his boots, "You brought him to our pub for a breather?" Myeongseok wrinkles his nose at the mess his friend has made.

Taeoh glances around the table, feeling like the odd man out in this boisterous group. It's not that he's shy—socially challenged, sure—but this... this is different. The attention, the warmth, the familiarity, all directed at him, throws him off balance. Despite the initial discomfort, there's a quiet satisfaction that creeps in. It feels strange but oddly pleasant to be embraced. All because of Seri and her family.

As the night trickles by, Taeoh watches as Myeongseok exchanges banter and jokes with the men around him. There's something about the ease with which Myeongseok navigates these conversations, the casual backslaps and knowing winks, that strikes Taeoh as so different from the man he knew back in Maju. Here, he isn't just Seri's quiet, easy-going father. Here, he's Flynn Keating, a part of this town's fabric, deeply embedded in its rhythm.