HMN C28

Chapter 28

“What’d you do over the weekend?”

“Went to see my parents.”

The lecture hall hadn’t regained much energy, even as the afternoon dragged on. Daeyoung wasn’t in great shape either. Between overworking himself on the weekend and dealing with the volunteer project yesterday, every muscle in his body—from his shoulder blades down his waist and thighs—seemed to ache in protest.

“And yesterday?”

“Volunteer work.”

“Oh, so that’s why you totally disappeared? I was worried.”

At Wonjung’s comment, Daeyoung nodded once and took a sip of coffee through the straw. Wonjung was naturally affectionate—the kind who easily said things like I worried about you, I missed you, Let’s catch up—so it didn’t strike him as anything out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, look at him. He’s falling apart.”

Across from them, Haegyeom added while half-distracted by his phone game. Daeyoung rubbed his face and jaw with his palm.

“Do I look like I’ve got something seriously wrong with me?”

The problem, if any, was that the weather had turned milder suddenly, and lighter clothing made it impossible to hide things. Though the air was still cool, people had begun peeling off their heavier layers—and that meant that the patch on his wrist and the bandage over his palm were now fully visible.

“You look ragged, man. Really ragged.” Haegyeom shook his head.

“Anyway,” Daeyoung muttered, “report back. How much of my rumor have you cleared up?”

He said it like a boss requesting results from subordinates—scruffy and exhausted as he was. Wonjung chuckled, but Daeyoung only narrowed his eyes and jabbed repeatedly at his side, wordlessly demanding answers. Wonjung flinched with exaggerated groans of pain.

“I put in real effort, okay? Everyone knows it was crap anyway.”

Even then, Daeyoung looked unconvinced, tilting his head and squinting.

“Yeah, people get that now,” Wonjung added quickly. “Seohyeong just laughed about how silly it was that a harmless joke between guys got twisted into a campus rumor, and Minhae didn’t believe it either.”

At that last name, Daeyoung’s face lit involuntarily—so transparent that Wonjung couldn’t help letting out a soft hum of amusement.

Honestly, anyone normal would have found it hard to believe the rumor to begin with. And Wonjung, who knew exactly what sort of reputation Ahn Daeyoung had around campus, especially thought so.

If Go Chiwoo was the type of man whose astonishing looks were undone by his abrasive personality—beautiful but unfriendly enough to drive people away—then Daeyoung was the opposite. Cute enough to look like a carefully trained idol, he wanted everyone to like him: men, women, older or younger. The only problem? He was hopelessly oblivious.

When a girl showed interest, he assumed it was directed at someone else—Haegyeom, usually. When a guy tried to be friendly, he never realized it was a sign that they simply wanted to get close. Some people accused him of having a quiet ego, but Haegyeom and Wonjung always laughed that off. Ego? This guy didn’t even have one—his confidence was hollowed out to a dent. Objectively, he lived under the delusion that he was totally average-looking, completely unaware that his so-called “plain” face was precisely what charmed people.

If the rumor had linked Go Chiwoo to someone less notable, it might have seemed plausible. But pairing him with someone equally well-known for his looks made it sound like some exaggerated campus joke.

“Still going to the café every weekend?”

Nodding, Daeyoung rubbed at the back of his neck. Yesterday had been so hectic that he hadn’t had a proper conversation with his friends, so the topic had rolled backward to the weekend. The truth was, leaving town Friday night and coming back Sunday evening after volunteer work had been brutal.

But as spring arrived and business boomed, he couldn’t just lounge at home knowing the café back home needed hands. While Haegyeom was muttering at his screen, furiously tilting his phone to win his game, he made a disapproving tsk.

“So that’s why you’re a wreck now. Geez. Kid, you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

“Café’s still busy?” Wonjung asked.

Daeyoung sighed. “Don’t even ask. Some YouTuber came in, did a food vlog, and now it’s chaos.”

“Oh! I actually saw that video. Looked amazing. Made me hungry.”

Apparently, Haegyeom had seen the footage Daeyoung himself hadn’t. Already familiar with the over-the-top food influencer shtick, Daeyoung drained the rest of his coffee in one gulp. Wonjung watched him sympathetically.

“And part-time work’s holding up?”

“The job’s fine—it’s just the usual. The problem is…”

“Is?”

At the sound of Daeyoung’s heavy exhale, both friends turned their heads. His face twisted in melodramatic agony.

“Go Chiwoo’s the owner’s nephew.”

“……”

“Don’t—don’t say anything, either of you. If you make a joke, I’ll hit you.”

Seeing Haegyeom immediately pinch his lips together and stifle a laugh, Daeyoung groaned and dropped his head onto the desk.

“Wake me when the professor comes in…”

“Sleep.”

Patting Daeyoung lightly on the back, Wonjung turned to entertain Haegyeom, who immediately started rambling again, this time about some weekend variety show featuring an idol group.

Nodding absently, Wonjung’s eyes drifted back to Daeyoung. The bandages wrapped around his slender wrist and palm stood out more starkly against his skin when he slept, head turned toward them. A few minutes later, the professor entered; only then did Wonjung reach out, tapping his friend’s back gently to wake him. The thin body twitched and straightened lazily.

“Hello, boss.”

“Daeyoung, you’re here.”

With only a few days left in the event, the café was just as crowded as ever. Coming straight from his afternoon class, Daeyoung shed his outerwear, tied on his apron, and stepped out from the storage room. Chiwoo wasn’t there today either. The boss was drenched in sweat behind the counter, wrestling with the espresso machine alone.

“Chiwoo said he couldn’t help this week, so I told him to at least come till the event ends, but the brat’s been silent.”

“Oh really?”

Not that the prince would’ve been much help anyway. Nodding, Daeyoung rolled up his sleeves. Helping his worn-out boss came first.

“Iced Americano, two cups.”

As he set down two finished drinks on the pickup counter, he took a moment to scan the packed café. After clearing the half-dozen orders that greeted him upon arrival, he finally had a small breather. Wiping his damp hands against the apron, he noticed the boss motioning to him mid-phone call.

“Yes?”

“There’s an order from the salon upstairs. They’re regulars, so take it up yourself.”

“How many cups?”

“Twelve.”

“…Were there that many people up there?”

“Looks like they’re throwing a party.”

Taking the handwritten list, Daeyoung opened and closed his hand a couple of times. Next time, pick an easier volunteer job, he told himself.

The café echoed with the grinding of coffee beans. Thankfully, the entire order was coffee-based drinks—less fussy than mixing a dozen different things. After a good while crafting the drinks, Daeyoung slid the last cup into a carrier.

“I’ll take these up.”

“You sure you can handle that alone?”

“It’s fine—it’s just upstairs.”

Leaving both of them absent wasn’t an option with customers still coming in. Undoing the apron tie behind him, Daeyoung stepped out from behind the counter, both hands gripping the tray carriers. But just as he stood, a pair of long arms appeared beside him, scooping up the remainder.

Swish.

“Since when did we start doing deliveries? They better increase pay.”

Go Chiwoo. Tossing a glance first at Daeyoung, then at the boss, he muttered while hefting the drinks—and jerked his chin toward the door, signaling to go ahead.

“Ah… be right back.”

His appearance was sudden but, admittedly, well-timed. Stepping out of the café, Daeyoung headed down the hall toward the stairwell, a towering presence shadowing him quietly from behind.

“……”

“……”

The night before, Daeyoung had nearly kicked his blanket off in frustration. Lying there, he’d realized that the thing he’d said during that hypnosis session could easily have sounded, from Chiwoo’s perspective, like a love confession.

You start feeling the urge to be kind to Ahn Daeyoung.

In his defense, he’d only said it because the arrogant bastard, clearly unaffected by hypnosis, had kept mouthing off. He just wanted the guy to act a little nicer for once. He’d also been irritated after hearing Chiwoo brag about how he wasn’t interested, about being chased, being confessed to, not even needing the truck.

He hadn’t meant fall for me. But thinking about it now, in Chiwoo’s shoes, even he might have wondered, Wait—is this guy into me? Granted, after a single conversation, any sane person would’ve realized of course not, yet Chiwoo’s monstrous self-confidence and ego probably didn’t let him go that far. Even though Daeyoung had insisted they clarify things before leaving that night, he doubted the “prince” had taken any of it to heart. Probably not even for a second.