Chapter 82
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: Birthday Cafe Clash
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It's no illusion. The person right in front of us is tilting their head, and the ones behind us are giggling for no reason. Who mutters to themselves loud enough to carry this far?
But that trashy accent and voice... I've heard it somewhere before.
'Is Hana okay?'
Truth be told, I wasn't too worried. I'd seen this situation way too many times tagging along on her fandom adventures. I already knew how Oh Hana handled it.
"Hmm."
Just as expected, her face was the picture of composure. If anything, she looked like she was pondering something. Figuring out how to screw with them?
Oh Hana smacked her fist into her palm with a thwack and opened her mouth.
"Ah, isn't that the bastard from before? The one who went woof woof and charged like a wild animal. Oh man, it's back. Didn't even have a leash. Scary stuff."
A laugh I couldn't hold back burst out of me.
Ah, what the hell is she? She tossed it out like she didn't give a single damn, and the impact hit harder than an aluminum bat.
"Hey! Fuck! What did you say?!"
Her crystal-clear diction—perfect for radio ASMR, would've sold like hotcakes—must've struck home, because the whispering voice from up front exploded in anger.
Ah. For real. It was her—the giantess bull who'd popped into my head reflexively. The one who'd looked ready to snap me in half.
She was wearing a T-shirt with pics of Genesis Eleven's Jumin and Hoi. Whoa. Kinda terrifying? The two guys on it looked like they were suffering in the devil's clutches. At least wear a proper size.
"What? I was just muttering to myself, and someone reacts? Hit a nerve?"
Oh Hana was something else. I'd noticed before, but this girl—who looked like one hit would shatter every bone in her body—had zero fear.
"You little bitch!"
"Bitch is you. Woof woof!"
"This crazy—!"
The bull girl bristled and lunged at Oh Hana, making the people in front scream.
"Kyaa!"
This scream was a new flavor. Foreigners?
At the same time, the sharp voice of the birthday cafe part-timer rang out—doing their best to keep invisible fan frictions from spilling over to the nearby cafes.
"Hey! Anyone causing trouble gets kicked out right now! This is an official birthday cafe. Official!"
An official birthday cafe meant not some fan-run gig, but one the agency shelled out big for. If you were super lucky, the idol themselves might even drop by briefly. Pretty high odds.
That must be why so many people were here.
...Or so you could think. Truth was, these fans would swarm any event that popped up, anywhere. For real.
'Heard that once a male idol really takes off, they rake in way more revenue and fandom than most girl groups.'
Seeing it firsthand hit different from just hearing about it.
"Ugh."
The part-timer's irritated shout made the bull hesitate and back off awkwardly. Watching that, I grinned outwardly but sighed in relief inside.
I'd bulked up plenty from quests—enough that even Oh Hana called me reliable. So why was that chick still scary?
"Oppa, those part-timers handling crowd control? They're the cafe owner's friends, spot on."
"Yeah?"
"Yup. They're laying the annoyance on thick. Long-time staff wouldn't snap like that. But since it's just today, they're letting loose a bit."
"Ah, got it. Aren't birthday cafes usually multi-day?"
"Some are. But this one's one-day only. Partly 'cause it's official, but mostly 'cause big crowds like this over days? Accidents happen no matter how careful. Turn a celebration into 9 PM news fodder, and it's hell for the idol and management."
"Ah."
I nodded, clicking my tongue in awe. Was she management? I'd noticed before, but how'd she know all this?
"Anyway, oppa."
"Yeah?"
"That bitch from earlier—the bull."
"Pfft! Bull. Perfect metaphor. Anyway, see her T-shirt? Our oppas looked so pitiful. Like they were begging, buy us... sell us..."
"Pffft!"
I clamped both hands over my mouth to stifle another burst. Ah, gonna lose it. Tears were pricking from laughing so hard.
How was she this tough? No wonder I said she'd survive dumped in a desert. That bull girl might've even gotten some sympathy if she hadn't flipped out at the mutter—most people here were glaring daggers at Oh Hana. My skin was prickling.
"Man. Noticed before, but why do these Luxury fans hate you so much? You're Luxury too."
"Well, if I had to say—one, 'cause I'm way too pretty?"
"Whoa..."
Any other girl says that, it'd be peak cringe. From her? Just nodding along. She pulls off arrogant lines without a hitch.
"Two, girls naturally form cliques, picking sides. Not all cozy just 'cause same fandom. Big fandoms like this? Volume means louder voices. Especially with different faves."
"True."
"Louder voices push harder for pics, coffee trucks, fan gifts, events. Beauty's one way girl groups amp up their say. Oppa, you've seen it, right?"
"Seen what?"
I tilted my head.
"Anywhere you go, girl gang leaders? Hottest face and body snags queen bee."
"Ah... yeah."
High school was boys-only, but middle was co-ed—I'd seen it. Surprisingly, not the brainy class pres, but celeb-level girl calling shots.
That bull? Totally the lackey type serving a pretty queen.
"Damn, creepy when you put it like that. Unspoken rule?"
"Girls go nuts for pretty. If you were born girl, oppa, you'd get it. Pretty clothes, makeup—eyes just go there. Anyway, they tried recruiting stupidly pretty me and failed, so now everyone's against me. 'Not our side? Enemy.' Their rules. Whatever."
I let out a hollow chuckle.
"Scary. Women are scary."
"Hey now! Don't worry! I'll stick right by you!"
After that mess, we were flirting like nothing happened. Must've been too gross for them.
"Bringing a guy? What the hell."
"Pathetic."
"Her showing up ruins the vibe. Hmph."
Scary. So scary.
Women topped the fear list. Get a crush, and boundaries vanish. Made sense why drama/movie villainesses worked—jealousy fuel.
"Hwaaam. Sleepy~."
Ignore the chatter, and it bounces off. Oh Hana yawned, ears perking a few times.
Listening to the people ahead.
Not Korean. Japanese, maybe?
They'd screamed earlier, but now grinning like idiots, snapping pics everywhere.
Glancing our way, muttering.
"Hey. Hey!"
Fuck. Jump scare.
No brakes on this girl? Or charisma off the charts? She nailed their gaze—hands already waving as they looked.
"Halo, halo! Where are you from?!"
Actually, Oh Hana was the weird one.
"Um, we, we don't know English! Sorry."
That was normal. Though saying you don't know English... while speaking it.
Shy or awkward rejection.
"Aha! Okay, okay! No problem!"
Not problem? Nah. Shook it off. Grammar schmrammar—language is for talking.
"I love most Ricky. Ok?"
"Ricky? Ok, ok."
Elementary-level English flew. Roughly: Jumin & Hoi bday, but Ricky pairs well with both, so service shots for fans. Trade for Ricky photocards?
Shy Japanese girls fell to her charm quick, nodding away, dazed by her beauty.
Muttering Kankokujin this and that, till she whipped out Papago translator.
You're so pretty, Korean girl. Your skin is amazing.
Prettiest Korean you've seen on this trip. Like a celeb.
Highest praise.
Oh Hana beamed.
"Yas! Thank you!"
*
Ugh. Standing in line was better.
[Happy Jumin’s Day] [2025/4/19]
[I love Jumin]
[Happy Hoi’s Day] [2025/4/19]
[I love Hoi]
"Here! Set 3! And three mint choco lattes, three iced cafe mochas!"
Someone save me. Warzone. Two girls ordered 14 drinks. Checking photocards, cupholders, dome tumblers—joy and despair everywhere.
Don't get me started on pics.
Posters, frames, banners, life-size standees—everyone snapping in this cramped cafe. Insane.
"Ugh."
A groan slipped out. First time preferring convenience store Karens.
Problem: Oh Hana was one of them.
"Two vanilla lattes, two strawberry lattes, one honey bread set, and soda smoothie...!"
"......"
Somehow snagged a table—eight drinks piled up. Each over a liter. Bladder itching already.
"Whew. Wanted more, but can't. Gotta finish these. Can't waste food."
She was right.
We were tame. Some ordered drinks, checked merch, ditched the lot without a backward glance. Money to burn.
"Sip steady, oppa! My treat today!"
"Treat? Or torture?"
I chugged while eyeing the bull girl's table far off. No waste worries there.
More importantly, scanned every corner—just in case the creep from the cafe owner trailed us. Nine-tenths women, but guys dotted around. Better safe.
Surveying, eyes locked with unexpected male part-timers. They flinched, bolted to the kitchen.
What?
"Hana."
"Wassup, bro?"
"My face scarier than I thought?"
She grinned brightly.
"Not at all."