Annyeongz One-shots

27. Almost Real ( 3 )

The clink of champagne glasses and muffled music created a soft background hum at the reception hall, but it felt distant to Wonyoung.

Everything else was drowned out by the storm brewing at her table.

She sat beside Yujin, her posture perfect, but her insides a nervous tangle. The elegant dress she wore hugged her a little too tightly — more than she’d anticipated — and her discomfort was growing.

She shifted slightly again, exhaling quietly.

Yujin noticed instantly.

He leaned toward her, voice low and only meant for her ears. “You okay?”

She gave a faint smile. “Dress is just… a bit snug.”

Without a word, Yujin moved.

He straightened, unbuttoned his blazer with a swift flick, and draped it over her lap. Not awkwardly. Not with some exaggerated gentleman gesture.

No.

He just did it — smooth, instinctive, like her comfort was his default priority.

His fingers brushed her exposed thigh as he adjusted the blazer, covering her elegantly. His touch lingered for just a heartbeat — warm and steady.

She blinked, startled, her breath catching in her throat.

And across the table, her father’s voice sliced through the air.

“Touching her like that in front of her parents?” he said, tone laced with bitterness. “You sure you’re not pretending a little too well, kid?”

Yujin didn’t look up at him yet. Instead, he turned to Wonyoung and quietly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Better?” he asked.

She nodded, stunned by the softness.

“Must be nice,” her father muttered. “Playing the good boyfriend. But I still don’t buy it.”

Yujin finally looked at him, his expression neutral but his jaw tight.

“You don’t think I’m real?”

“No,” her father said bluntly. “I don’t. She’s never brought anyone like you before. Out of nowhere, you show up looking clean, acting cool, putting jackets on her lap like it’s all natural.”

Yujin tilted his head slightly. “It is natural.”

“Oh yeah? Bartender, you said? And suddenly also a pilot?” Her father gave a cold chuckle. “What’s the connection there? What, you mix drinks at night and fly planes by day?”

Jaehyun's eyes darted toward them, clearly listening now. His wife leaned in subtly too.

Wonyoung froze, heart hammering. She could see where this was going.

But Yujin was composed. Too composed.

“You want to know the connection between bartending and flying?” he asked, voice calm. “They both taught me how to stay steady under pressure. How to listen more than I speak. And how to read a room — especially when someone’s trying too hard to shake me.”

Her father scoffed, not backing down. “And what does that pay you? Enough to impress my daughter?”

Something shifted in Yujin.

He didn’t blink. Just spoke—soft, but cutting.

“I make 3.5 million won from bartending alone,” he said. “Per month. And that’s only for half the month’s shifts.”

The table fell quiet.

“I hustle,” he added. “Every job, every gig. It’s not glamorous. But it’s mine. I didn’t inherit anything. I didn’t get handouts. And I didn’t come here to prove my worth with numbers. But if you want to talk numbers—”