Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Mysterious Regular
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Feeling uneasy, I nodded solemnly without a trace of a smile and launched into a stream of nonsense. What I needed right now was pure shamelessness.
"Um... Ah, yes. I see. Got it. You were curious about this hand cream I use, right? It's R-brand's Cozy Bread scent—so warm and comforting!"
"......"
"I love bread, you know. If you're interested, check it out at Olive Young sometime. They've got a whole range—bread, cake, chocolate, cookie scents—and a massive 60% off this month! Pay with Naver Card for another 10% off, so you can live that fabulous consumer life!"
Channeling the spirit of an honorary R-brand promoter, I poured out my pitch, my intense gaze silently urging him to just nod along. Caught off guard, the man nodded.
I quickly slipped away from the counter and scanned the surroundings. Sure enough, a few nearby customers were glancing his way. One of them was even jotting down the hand cream name I'd just mentioned.
'This should kill any rumors about the part-timer making moves on customers...!'
Even I had to admit it was flawless handling. I quietly wiped away my cold sweat.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Flawless handling, my ass.
"Sis, what'd you do to that guy? Spill the details for me too."
"Hey, quit bugging sis and get back to work."
"Aren't you curious, oppa? He hasn't brought any other girls lately and he's weirdly nice only to sis. He's totally into her, I'm telling you."
The female part-timer pressed again, wondering what had gone down.
If I had to pinpoint it, the only thing was accidentally holding his hand. But that didn't count as a reason.
If grabbing a stranger's hand guaranteed affection, the world would've been overflowing with love and peace ages ago.
What was clear was that after that day, the man stopped showing up with other women.
His visits, which had been maybe once a week if that, picked up. And the guy who used to just pay and go started chatting with staff.
The problem? He only did it when the staffer was me.
The first to notice was the female part-timer I worked with.
"That guy, you know? He only talks when you're around, sis."
"What? No way."
"No, seriously. Last time he asked you for menu recs, right? I've worked here half a year and that's the first time I've heard him say anything besides ordering. Guy always gets iced Americano... He must be into you."
"Just from that?"
"Call it my intuition. And my gut's spot on."
"You're imagining things. Why would someone like that be into me?"
I shrugged lightly with a playful smile.
Amelia might turn heads at a glance, but Kim Yu-jeong—with her sharp eyes and deadpan face—had been hauled off in school more for "Why are you glaring?" than confessions.
Of course, looks aren't everything when judging people, but objectively speaking...
Our chats boiled down to that one product placement spiel. No way to gauge character from that. So what was left? Looks.
Anyway, piling on top of that awkward slip-up, hearing her say it made even me start paying attention.
I unconsciously tuned into mentions of him, sneaking glances his way.
What I realized? The way he looked at me was a familiar type.
"Like I said a million times, I didn't do anything special, and whatever interest he's showing isn't what you think."
"What do I think?"
"Romance."
"Aww, how can you be so sure? It's not like you can read minds."
"Hey, hey, Soo-jin—order's up. Quit gossiping and work."
The gaze I felt from him wasn't romantic attraction. It was more like faint wariness mixed with curiosity.
I'd gotten those looks plenty back when I first joined the front lines. No mistaking it.
That made it even weirder. What had I done to earn that stare?
Was this even worth the fuss? It wasn't like we'd kissed in the middle of the cafe—just some glances and chit-chat.
But one look at his face, and I got it.
When someone who causes a scene just by breathing acts out of character, this is what happens.
Honestly, I was handling it better than most. I'd built immunity from faces like Amelia's, Crown Prince Raymond's, or top mage candidate Kisen's.
The hectic lunch rush passed, and late afternoon crept in. The sky, clear at noon, had turned overcast, carrying a chill vibe.
The weather sucked, but I was in the best mood I'd had in ages.
It'd been a full week since the guy showed up at the cafe. Aside from the female part-timer still pushing her romance theory, talk of him was fading from others' mouths.
Maybe the gloomy weather, but customers thinned out noticeably in the afternoon. Only one left: a guy at the window seat, earbuds in, hammering away at his laptop.
"Gotta sort those coupons. I'm on closing cleanup today, so I'll handle it."
"Sweet, thanks. Oh, rain's coming tonight—got an umbrella?"
"Yeah."
I nodded vaguely and pulled the coupons from the drawer.
This cafe still used paper stamps. Stamp per drink, collect 'em all for a free one. To prevent loss, folks wrote names on theirs; we kept them safe.
"Huh. That guy's never done coupons, has he?"
"Who?"
"You know, the hottie Soo-jin always raves about. Thinking back, never saw him stamp one at checkout."
Regulars usually get them. Curious, I asked, and the male part-timer nodded like it clicked.
"Oh, him? Asked if he wanted one once—said no need."
"Huh. Comes that often, he'd rack up free drinks."
"Must be loaded. Living around here ain't cheap... Oh, gotta take this call."
"No rush. Place is dead anyway."
Urgent call—he dashed off. Staff room door shut.
Soon, rain poured down with a roar. Outside turned gray and hazy fast.
Ding-a-ling.
Door opened.
Rain sound swelled through the gap, then faded quick. I looked up from the coupons.
There he was—the guy I hadn't seen in a while.
As he slotted his umbrella, I stared at his face. Even after so long, his striking features looked ghostly pale under the lights.
Thud, thud.
His footsteps approached. I blinked.
Something's off. Feels weird, but what exactly...?
'...That unreal face playing tricks?'
Frowning at the odd disconnect, my eyes dropped to the floor.
Ah.
Then it hit me.
Rain hammered outside, but his footprints? Bone dry.
Dry hair, dry coat. Umbrella in the stand—no puddle beneath. Just the one umbrella stood out starkly.
'Overthinking it...'
Maybe came through the parking lot. Heard he drove something pricey.
Pushing the thought aside, he reached the counter and greeted me.
"Hello."
Up close, his complexion looked even worse. Not the lights—face drained like he was truly unwell. I couldn't help scrutinizing it.
"Welcome. Sit wherever's comfy, ring the bell for orders."
"Nah, I'll order here. Iced Americano."
A face like death warmed over, ordering iced. Hesitating, instead of swiping his card, I mustered courage.
"Um... you look kinda pale. No thought to something warm? Raining, it'll be chilly."
Instant regret.
'Ugh. Nosy much.'
Silence stretched. Scrambling for a save, he asked:
"What warm drinks you got?"
"...Pardon?"
"You said warm would be good. Recommend something."
"Uh, grapefruit honey black tea. Or yuzu tea?"
Vitamin C vibes seemed right. He tilted his head.
"You like that stuff."
"Huh?"
"Grapefruit. You recced it before."
"Oh..."
Had I?
I nodded on reflex.
"That, then," he said, ordering and taking a nearby seat. Rubbing his forehead with a grimace—anyone could see he was hurting.
I brought his drink over, then flicked on the TV pronto. Anything to kill this awkward quiet.
First day, I'd wondered about the cafe TV. Clearly for moments like this.
Channel on random, back to sorting coupons—when his voice cut in close.
"Excuse me."