Part 1: As If Today Were the Only Day

　　“Inwoo, refill the side dishes for table five!”

　　“On it!”

　　He was quick to answer whenever his name was called. Moving on reflex was second nature. Tucking a small tray under his arm, Inwoo crossed the packed dining area toward table five. Groups of three or four sat around cramped tables, filling the floor completely, and the private rooms along the side were just as full. The idea that rain kept customers away was nonsense, after all.

　　Famous for straw-grilled meat that came out par-cooked, the restaurant had been passed down through generations. It was one of the oldest in the college district and boasted high turnover.

　　Whenever it was this busy, the same thought crossed Inwoo’s mind: I wish I owned this place.I wish I owned this place.

　　“Please give us a lot of potato salad. Pickled garlic leaves and ssamjang too, please.”

　　“Right away, sir.”

　　Scanning the table quickly, he gathered all the dishes that were more than half empty. The second he relayed the order to the kitchen, another table called for more meat, meals, and side dish refills. As soon as he turned around, new guests entered; the moment he passed an order to another part-timer, he had to bus a vacated table and reset it.

　　It was raining lightly mid-September, just past the height of summer. With the sweltering heat fading, people were in the mood for drinks. No wonder the restaurant was bursting at the seams. Hunger caught up with Inwoo. He had been having an early dinner of doenjang-jjigae and side dishes when the rush hit, forcing him to clear his table in a hurry.

　　Just as he returned from taking another order, the kitchen auntie held out a bowl.

　　“Eat.”

　　Looking inside, he saw steaming potatoes flecked with grains of rice. He couldn’t help smiling.

　　“Thank you.”

　　He blew on it and hastily popped it into his mouth, but almost immediately, the call bell rang. Reflexively, he checked his watch. Half past nine; he just had to hold out a little longer. Closing was at eleven, but customers would start tapering off after ten.

　　The door swung open again, and Inwoo instinctively turned his head towards the bell.

　　“Welcome!”

　　In his line of sight, a completely out-of-place figure stepped into the restaurant.

　　…Wow.

　　Admiration was his first reaction. Was he an alumnus? Or a graduate student? The man was tall, with a lean yet solid build, dressed in an unadorned black suit. Beneath dark hair disheveled by the wind and rain, his thick eyebrows and pale skin made him look graceful and pristine, as if he had just stepped out of a period drama.

　　To describe a grown man as pristine seemed odd, but far from being off-putting, his appearance inspired a kind of deference. The man possessed an elegance that felt entirely disconnected from this place. Had he wandered into the wrong restaurant? Inwoo wondered, momentarily forgetting his duties as a part-timer.

　　“Man, popular joints are always a damn pain to park at. Got any seats?”

　　Right on cue, another man who looked to be his companion walked in. He was quite tall as well, clean-cut with horn-rimmed glasses and a casual jacket. Inwoo quickly guided them over.

　　“Right this way, please.”

　　“What about a room? Wouldn’t a private room be better for you?” the one in horn-rimmed glasses asked, looking at the man in the suit.

　　“In that case, room three over there…”

　　Just as Inwoo started to redirect them, the suited man sat down at the table Inwoo had originally pointed to.

　　“Just sit.”

　　His tone was terse, brooking no argument. The way he had pulled out the backless plastic chair and sat down was smooth and practiced.

　　He really did not fit into a place like this. He looked like he should be sitting cross-legged in a high-end Korean restaurant sipping tea, or holding a wine glass at a rooftop bar. And dressed like that, of all things. Was that his usual attire? He really was stunningly handsome.

　　“What’s gotten into you? You hate showing your face.”

　　At that point, Inwoo turned away to prepare place settings for two: wet wipes, appetizer plates, water cups, and the standard side dishes. Though the place didn’t slack on cleanliness for an affordable, high-turnover joint, the dishware somehow looked cheap today. As Inwoo turned back with his tray, he realized everyone inside—from the part-timers to the kitchen aunties—was stealing glances at the newly seated table.

　　The man in the suit had a detached, graceful air that drew every eye.

　　“Are you ready to order?”

　　“Four servings of honeycomb pork belly and two bottles of soju, please. Do you want your rice right away?”

　　“I’m good.”

　　“Just one doenjang-jjigae and a bowl of rice, please.”

　　While Inwoo wrote down the order from the man in glasses, the suited man slowly poured water into the stainless steel cup he had set on the table. He seemed to briefly furrow his brow. Was there a smudge on it? Inwoo had run them through the dishwasher and double-checked… Still wondering about it, he turned around.

　　“What is with that customer? He’s unreal, seriously.”

　　“Right? I’ve never seen someone look like that in my life.”

　　As Inwoo wiped up the water around the water dispenser with a dry rag, he overheard two evening part-timers whispering in the corner. They were students from the nearby university who worked only three evening shifts a week. It was an elite institution where the country’s sharpest minds went, and they were only working part-time for the experience.

　　Though they were roughly the same age, they kept their distance once they learned Inwoo only had a high school diploma. Inwoo felt more comfortable around the kitchen aunties anyway. It was just how things were.

　　The curious part-timers carried over the meat and liquor from the order Inwoo had taken, while he began cleaning up the dining area as guests trickled out. With their shift almost over, the other part-timers slacked off, dawdling over collecting empty bottles, but Inwoo, who had to stay until closing, didn’t have the spare energy to pay them any mind.

　　“Excuse me, could we get a little—actually, a lot more garlic, please?”

　　Inwoo was turning away after wiping a nearby table when the man in horn-rimmed glasses spoke up. When Inwoo turned back, the man swallowed a mouthful of meat and added with a smile,

　　“I just really love garlic. Figured I’d ask for a bunch so I don’t keep bugging you, asking for more, and more, and more.”

　　Customers like him were great—sociable without being picky. Inwoo beamed and nodded.

　　“I’ll bring it on an appetizer plate instead of a small dish.”

　　“Oh, nice.”

　　Setting down his chopsticks, the man gave two thumbs up. Inwoo smiled again. The suited man, who had been eating so slowly it was hard to tell whether he had come to eat or just to intimidate people with his good looks, seemed to glance his way.

　　Those customers remained in their seats past ten-thirty and on until eleven.

　　“Jeong Soohyun, put in a good word for me with my dad. He’s always so lenient with you. I know I’m the youngest and dead last in the pecking order, but how could he push the company president’s son into research? Even being an entry-level intern like you would be better.”

　　“Who was the idiot who bragged about being cut out for it? It’s not like you’ll be doing it forever anyway.”

　　“Forever? Look at my cousin talking reckless just because it’s not his problem. Don’t you know one year of grad school is like ten years for normal people? You think we have human rights? Argh… why did I do that? ‘Huh? Should I give it a shot, then?’ Like an idiot… and now I can’t even make a peep.”

　　“Stop whining. In ten years, you’ll hold the top spot in that field.”

　　Surprisingly, he held up his end of the conversation. Wondering why, Inwoo listened in and learned they were cousins. The suited man didn’t seem as old as Inwoo had assumed; he ate a decent amount even though the food wasn’t to his liking, and mostly listened.

　　On the other hand, the one in glasses ate voraciously and chatted endlessly. With that personality and appetite, it seemed unlikely he would become eccentric even after entering grad school. Drawing on what he had picked up around the university, Inwoo figured as much while quietly tidying the dining room. Even past closing time, you couldn’t kick out seated guests, and cleaning up around customers was bad manners.

　　The aunties finished cleaning the kitchen except for the last of the dishes and came out to sit down in the dining area.

　　“What do we do about them?” asked the Anyang auntie, who lived in Seoul.

　　“I know, right?” Inwoo replied.

　　The other part-timers had left long ago, and the owner, who had supposedly been nearby, had gone home after telling them to close up on their own that night. As Inwoo refilled the napkin dispensers, he touched the back of his hand to his forehead and neck to check his temperature. Even though he had taken medicine and downed an energy drink amid the rush, a slight fever had flared up again before he knew it. It’s my day off tomorrow, so just hang in there a little longer, he reassured himself.

　　“They’re still going even after being told we’re closed?”

　　The Incheon auntie, who lived in Seoul, turned off the kitchen lights and stepped out, handing him a half-peeled cucumber as she asked. Inwoo nodded. Glancing at the man in glasses, who was babbling about rare traits, clinical trials, how nice it must be to work at a company, and marriage, Inwoo murmured,

　　“I’ll handle the closing, so you should head home, Aunties.”

　　“Oh, don’t do that. Just go tell them it’s time to leave.”

　　He shook his head.

　　“They ordered our most expensive liquor. And ate a ton of meat.”

　　“Gave us some good eye candy, too.”

　　The Anyang auntie had an eye for handsome men. To be fair, his striking looks shone on their own without needing a closer look. Inwoo waved his hand lightly.

　　“Hurry and head out, or you’ll miss the bus.”

　　It was going to fall on him anyway. It wasn’t just because he lived the closest, exactly a hundred steps from the restaurant, but because the building belonged to the owner. A full-time part-timer with one day off a week, living in a studio apartment with a deposit and rent below market rate in exchange for a long-term commitment. That was reason enough for loyalty. Besides, this wasn’t all that difficult.

　　As the aunties gave a small wave and left, Inwoo checked the locks on the back door by the kitchen, the storage room, and the windows. Looking apologetic, the man in glasses called out to him.

　　“Ah, I’m really sorry. If not tonight, who knows when I’ll ever see this bastard again… and I’m about to get busy, too.”

　　Inwoo answered with a smile.

　　“It’s fine, please take your time. I still have work to do anyway.”

　　“I’m so sorry. I wish I could say it’s not like tonight’s our only chance, but it really is tonight or never… I’m about to… well, actually, already…”

　　Right, three weeks into the semester, he was already a lost cause. What kind of place was grad school, anyway? Would the day ever come when Inwoo himself set foot on a college campus? Still, grad school was something he should definitely steer clear of…

　　He was standing some distance away, smiling, when he locked eyes with the man in the suit. Holding eye contact with a customer for too long could lead to misunderstandings, so naturally, it was something to avoid. It could even provoke an argument. And yet, even knowing that…

　　“…Finish that and let’s get going. There’s such a thing as overstaying our welcome.”

　　“Jeez, are you acting superior just because you’ve got an office job now?”