#bridge New Year's Party
Anyone there could grasp the implication behind those words.
The others glanced back and forth between me and Maeng Soyul.
"Huh? What're you talking about? I like Soyul a ton."
"...Why call me Soyul ssi now? It feels like you're drawing a line."
It hit too close to home, leaving me embarrassed. I scratched my cheek and mumbled evasively.
"No, it's not like that. She's a junior I really like."
"Not as a junior—as a woman."
Even buzzed, Maeng Soyul stated her intentions with crystal clarity.
The sudden turn had everyone around us watching with keen interest.
"Hmm, looks like you've had a lot to drink."
"No, I haven't."
Her slurred speech screamed drunk to anyone looking.
Woo Da-young, watching from the side with her chin propped up, poked at my insides.
"Is this what they call drunk honesty?"
I shot Woo Da-young a sharp glare.
She shrugged at my look, smirking slyly and letting it slide.
Woo Da-young was as shy as it got about sex, but as a friend, her savage jabs were spot-on—and problematic.
"Soyul, you've had enough. Let's call it."
As I tried drawing the line again, she shook her head defiantly, glaring at me like a dog pissed from missing dinner.
"Say it clearly. If you reject me, I'll drop it."
"Fine, rejected."
"No, that's half-assed."
The answer was obvious from the start.
"Th-then, one more shot?"
"Your answer."
Maeng Soyul fixed me with a fierce gaze—not predatory, but burning with battle intent.
"Sorry, but I really have no plans to get a girlfriend."
"I know—that's why I'm asking. What's your type? I'll change to match."
I hadn't expected her to push this hard, and it threw me off balance.
"You could always tell."
"Right?"
Murmurs rose from the side.
I thought I'd been subtle, but apparently not—even the others had noticed. Guess I'd been more obvious than I realized.
"......"
As I made a troubled face, Maeng Soyul's bold demeanor vanished, replaced by a crestfallen expression.
"Too much, right?"
"Huh? Well..."
Thinking back, I'd had girlfriends before, but none who'd professed their feelings so boldly before we dated—like Maeng Soyul.
A quick mental rewind confirmed it: none.
I let out a soft sigh.
"Soyul, wanna smoke one?"
"...Sure."
I swept a hand across Woo Da-young's forehead as she watched with fascination.
"Eek..."
"Not what you're thinking—don't get the wrong idea. Just sobering up."
Dismissing Woo Da-young's misunderstanding, I led Maeng Soyul out of the restaurant.
The nearby smoking room was empty—perfect for talking.
Come to think of it, without the Scenario Book, I'd never had a serious real-world chat with her.
Chiiik.
I lit my cigarette, then hers, as she stood in the corner, sulking with it dangling from her lips.
"So, what do you like about me?"
I asked calmly. She held her cigarette in her small hand and replied quietly.
"You're mature. Different from the older guys I've seen—just age, no substance."
"I'm not that mature. We're both in our twenties—no real gap."
She lifted her head and met my eyes.
"No, you were different from the factory uncles. You have conviction in what you do."
"M-me?"
I was just your typical immature late-twenties guy still cracking sex jokes.
"Yeah. And those factory guys just spew weird crap at company dinners."
"...R-right."
I couldn't relate without knowing the details.
"...You were the first adult to visit me when I was sick, the first to buy me chicken after work."
"That's... kinda lame as reasons. Like, my looks or something..."
"You're not that handsome."
"......"
Facts could hit like a punch sometimes.
I scratched my forehead and took a deep drag.
Suuup, whoo.
Exhaling smoke, I turned to her.
"You've never had a boyfriend. I've had a few. Not your first—not okay?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Mm, and I'm kinda pervy."
I felt like I was repeating lines from past scenarios.
She flinched at "pervy" but stated firmly.
"Yeah, but you're not a real pervert."
Suuup...
Considering the last few months, I wondered if I was one for real.
Especially after Woo Da-hee—self-aware pervert confirmed.
"Alright, sleep it off and think tomorrow."
"...I'm sober now."
Pink lips exhaled cigarette smoke.
"You asked my type earlier."
"Yeah. I'll quit smoking."
"Huh? No, I smoke too."
I said it to maybe kill some appeal.
"I'm patriarchal. Like obedient women."
"I listen well."
"Really? You pushed back hard when I said no."
"Yeah—because I like you and you rejected me. I had to push."
She didn't grasp that wasn't "obedient."
"F-fine. I like girls who cook well."
"I'll learn."
"Cleaning too."
"House is old—that's why. I keep it spotless."
She countered every point sharply, without yielding.
Not out of spite, but to sell herself—because she liked me.
Her tone made it confusing.
"You're dodging. Just say if you like me or not."
"I do, but it's... ambiguous."
Sleek jet-black bob framing a small, white, pebble-smooth face with bold, straight eyes.
Thin but thick brows, a petite upturned nose, and those pink lips that had wrapped my cock.
"So tell me—I’ll work on it."
Life was sweet with the Scenario Book for casual fucks.
"Sleep it off—if you feel the same sober, we'll talk."
"...Got it. Hope it's good news."
Who talks so stiffly when they like someone?
"Cold—let's head in."
"Yeah."
Knowing her personality, it wasn't a big deal—but to a newbie, it'd be awkward as hell.
Maeng Soyul.
Pang pang!
"Grandma, sis kicked off the blanket at breakfast."
Grandmother brushed off her little brother's words, dressing him.
Maeng Soyul pulled the kicked blanket over her head, replaying last night.
'I... lost my mind...'
Sober, she wouldn't have been so bold in front of everyone.
"I'll change to your type"—mortifying now.
"Agh... Grandma, skipping breakfast. Heading to work."
"Fine."
Grandma's cool reply.
She hit the bathroom for an extra-long wash, then makeup.
Carefully applied, nodded satisfied, and headed out.
At the studio.
Everyone eyed her warmly all day—expected after last night.
"Soyul, follow the guide and send it over. Light cuts only."
"Got it."
Nam Siu acted like nothing happened—back to normal.
She knew it was consideration, but it stung anyway.
As she stewed silently, a visitor arrived.
"What's this~? Door locked, can't get in~."
Looking up: familiar face, name slipping her mind. She tilted her head as Woo Da-young spoke.
"Sis, this ain't a cafe."
"So? Oh, Siu and Yu-chan, hey~."
Calling Nam Siu casually.
"Yeah, Da-hee noona—been a while."
His gaze wasn't casual.
Knowing she was married eased jealousy, but that face and figure—his type?
Wavy long hair swaying, actress-sharp features, mature curves unlike hers, knit hugging them subtly.
Not intentional, but those huge tits curved over the knit.
Sweep.
Glancing down: perky but flat.
Baggy knit or hoodie might've hidden it.
"Oppa’s little bro visited recently—high school soon, came to say hi early. Brought my fave macarons, tons."
"Hubby's brother?"
"Yup~. Hng~, just a month ago he was 16—so cute, right?"
Seething inwardly, the "sis" just chattered.
"First met at middle school entrance. Grows fast. Looks like oppa, shy—adorable."
"What, here to brag?"
"Hng~, brag about my boy and see your faces~."
She caught Nam Siu glancing slyly.
"......"
Not dating, but she puffed her cheeks, sulking.
"Hm, yeah—decided."
Nam Siu muttered to himself, grinning satisfied.
"Decided what."
She snapped curtly.
"Nah, next scenario popped up. Oh, Soyul."
"...?"
Drag.
He pulled his chair close. His scent thrilled her.
Leaning to her ear, he whispered.
"FYI— you're more my type than Da-hee noona."
His smug, knowing tone jolted her—he'd read her mind.
"...Really?"
She wanted to snap "None of my business," but it came out soft.
"Yeah—so don't sulk."
"...I wasn't sulking."
He stroked her murmuring head.
"Gotcha~."
"...So, what scenario?"
"I write stories as a hobby."
News to her—he wrote?
"Telling you only—secret."
"Yeah, my lips are sealed."
"Good girl."
She watched him return to his seat, then her monitor.
A happy smile leaked out, unstoppable.
The scenarios with Maeng Soyul had burned through points—time to recoup.
Woo Da-hee was the target; pondering rewards when it hit.
"Hmm, hubby's brother entering high school... perfect 'anything for you' moment."
A matching world and scenario in mind—she dove in writing.
[Loading: 1%]