Just a Simple Drink
Sunday evening.
Just like always, I finished my part-time shift, collected my daily wage in Zone A, and climbed into the pickup van.
"······."
Isabella, who had boarded first, shot me a sidelong glance. Then she whipped her head toward the window.
That was the seat I’d been aiming for…
I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask her to move. There weren’t assigned seats or anything; whoever sat first claimed the spot. So I wordlessly took the place beside her.
The entire ride to the drop-off point, we exchanged not a single word. Same as when we’d clocked out yesterday, same as when we’d clocked in today. It wasn’t particularly awkward, though. Silence was familiar territory. And after a shift, this kind of atmosphere was only natural—everyone else was dead on their feet from the grueling labor, after all.
Of course, there were always a few people still brimming with energy.
"Hahwi-ssi. Heading straight home again today?"
The female coworker in the passenger seat turned around to ask. She was the same one who’d invited me for a drink on the way home yesterday. I’d turned her down then, obviously.
"If you’re not too tired, how about a quick drink with me to—"
"I’m tired."
"Got it!"
I declined again today. Drinking alone with a stranger was just too much pressure—man or woman, didn’t matter.
"Great work today, everyone! Get home safe!"
"Take care."
"Thanks for the ride."
"See you!"
The pickup van stopped in the city center, and the part-timers climbed out one by one and went their separate ways. I bowed my head in thanks to the driver, then started walking toward the nearest bus stop. They didn’t drop everyone off at their actual homes, after all.
I was scrolling through my phone as I walked when a familiar voice called from behind me.
"Kang Hahwi."
"Wait up a second."
It was Isabella Chambers. She started rummaging through her pockets. Don’t tell me… again? It felt exactly like yesterday, when she’d tried to hand over her wages.
Sure enough, Isabella pulled out a white envelope, opened it, and extracted three 50,000-won bills before holding them out to me. More than half her daily pay.
"Take this."
"······."
Why so much? Today Isabella had actually done pretty well. She’d managed to match about seventy percent of everyone else’s hauling volume, which meant the amount I’d covered for her was only around thirty percent. Even if I accepted anything, thirty percent of her wage would have been fair.
Not that I planned on taking her money either way. I hadn’t helped her so I could get paid extra.
I refused firmly.
"I’m good."
"What do you mean, you’re good? Just take it. I’m giving it to you because it makes me feel uncomfortable otherwise."
Isabella tried to force the bills into my hand. I stepped back and gave her eyes a brief look. She flinched and froze mid-motion.
"…W-what? Why are you glaring at me like you want to kill me?"
I hadn’t glared murderously at all. I’d just glanced at her for a second. Did it look scary to other people?
"If you really hate taking it that much…"
Isabella fiddled with the bills, looking embarrassed, then stuffed them back into the envelope.
"Then at least let me buy you dinner. We still haven’t eaten tonight."
The old me would have refused without a second’s hesitation. But things were different now. Isabella wasn’t a stranger; she was part of the academy lunch group. Sharing dinner with her wasn’t that big a leap. It was still nerve-wracking, sure—but if I kept dodging every situation like this the way I used to, I’d never overcome the trauma. If she’d been a complete unknown, I would have bolted. But she wasn’t.
"Oh, right. You said you didn’t like it when a girl paid for the meal…?"
Isabella asked carefully. She must have remembered what Seo I-eung had said last time.
"I don’t mind."
"Huh? Really? I thought it was only okay when it was I-eung, and you hated it when any other girl treated you."
"You’re fine too."
"Oh? Oh…"
Truthfully, any girl would have been fine at this point. Hanging around Seo I-eung had worn down a lot of my resistance to the whole “girl pays for the meal” thing. And this was basically just splitting the bill anyway.
Isabella edged a little closer and fidgeted with her hands as she asked,
"Th-then what do you want to eat? Anything in particular?"
"Anything…"
I started to answer, then stopped short. The last time I’d said “anything,” Seo I-eung had immediately suggested pineapple pizza. I scrambled for something specific and corrected myself.
"Pork belly."
"Pork belly? Not bad. There’s a really famous place nearby—want to go there?"
A famous restaurant was a little off-putting. Those places were always packed. Separate from my issues with pretty girls, I just hated loud, crowded spots by nature.
"Let’s go somewhere quiet with fewer people."
"Somewhere secluded…? O-okay…"
Isabella answered while giving a little shiver. She hadn’t jumped to some weird conclusion, had she?
After a bit of searching online, I found a pork-belly place that looked promising. Not many people, and the customers grilled the meat themselves. I wasn’t a fan of places where the owner or staff stood right beside you cooking. Other people might find that convenient, but having someone hovering while I ate always made me uncomfortable—they were close enough to overhear every word of the conversation.
And since we’d come here because of me, I’d planned to handle the grilling myself…
"You just sit still. I’ll grill it so perfectly you’ll lose your mind."
In the blink of an eye, Isabella had snatched the tongs and scissors right out of my hands. She clearly had no intention of giving them back.
Sizzle—
Isabella rubbed a chunk of fat across the iron pot-lid grill to oil it, then laid the pork belly down. Once the underside was nicely browned, she flipped the meat and dumped seasoned mung-bean sprouts and kimchi around the edges.
"I like that they give us mung-bean sprouts here instead of soybean sprouts."
Isabella said with a satisfied little curl of her lips.
"You don’t like soybean sprouts?"
"It’s not that I hate them. I just like mung-bean sprouts more."
Nod, nod. I murmured a quiet “I see” and bobbed my head, then fell silent again. I’d managed to work up the courage to ask a question, but I had no idea how to keep the conversation going after that. The whole back-and-forth thing was hard.
Everyone else does this so naturally. Why is it so difficult for me?
Still, this much was fine for now. The situation itself was already more than enough. A total loser like me—someone who couldn’t even meet a girl’s eyes, couldn’t hold a proper conversation, and freaked out over the smallest things—had somehow ended up grilling meat outdoors at night alone with a beautiful girl. I never would have imagined it before. Spending a peaceful weekend meal with a pretty girl…
"It’s pretty much done now."
The meat had turned a perfect golden brown. Confirming it, Isabella gathered three pieces with the tongs. Then—
Sizzle-sizzle—!
She pressed the fatty edges firmly against the grill and started crisping them.
"If you give the fat a little extra sear at the end like this, it gets even chewier and tastier."
Had she grilled a lot before? Her meat-cooking skills were something else—almost hard to believe she was actually British.
Once the fat was done, Isabella snipped the meat into bite-sized pieces and asked,
"Mmm. Pork belly calls for soju… Want a drink too?"
"We have academy tomorrow."
"Mondays are club activity days anyway, so it’s fine, right?"
"…True. Then just a little."
I hadn’t really felt like drinking, but I gave up on refusing. If she wanted to drink, I should keep her company. It would’ve felt petty to make her drink alone.
"Ah. You’re not a lightweight or anything, are you? If you can’t handle much, you don’t have to force yourself."
"I drink fine, so don’t worry."
"What’s your limit?"
"Around one or two bottles."
"Yeah? Pretty average. Then let’s just order one bottle and split it."
And just like that, we somehow ended up drinking together as well.
I wrapped a piece of pork belly with mung-bean sprouts and took a bite.
Clink.
We tapped our glasses together. Next I stacked kimchi on top of more pork belly and put it in my mouth.
Clink!
We clinked glasses again. One glass, two glasses, three…
As the alcohol went down, the buzz steadily rose.
"Kang Hahwi."
"Mmm…"
Isabella called my name. My tongue felt a little thick, but I was still okay.
"Hey. You knew I didn’t like you, right?"
"A little…?"
"Well, I made it pretty obvious, so of course you’d notice… But if you knew that, why did you still help me?"
"Just because."
"Just because?"
"We’re at the same academy. Same class. Friends."
"…I see."
The look in Isabella’s eyes as she watched me shifted in a subtle way. I couldn’t guess what she was thinking.
"You’re actually really nice once you get past the first impression… I guess I misunderstood you a lot…"
Isabella muttered quietly. Even though she was right next to me, the alcohol made everything swim, and I couldn’t catch what she said.
"I’m sorry."
"Huh? What?"
"N-nothing! If you didn’t hear it, forget it. Let’s just clink glasses!"
"Okay…"
Once the alcohol kicked in, the awkwardness melted away and the words started flowing easily. Conversation came naturally, and the mood gradually heated up. Swept along by that rising atmosphere, we somehow ordered more drinks. Before long, four empty soju bottles sat on the table.
"Ugh…"
I was so drunk I could barely keep myself upright. …Honestly? My actual limit was less than one bottle. After being reborn, with a stronger body and mind, I’d figured maybe one or two bottles would be doable, so that’s what I’d told her. One bottle seemed about right. Two was clearly pushing it. For some reason, my alcohol tolerance was still stuck with my old weak body.
Isabella, on the other hand—
"You okay? You’re really wasted…"
—looked perfectly fine. She could hold her liquor better than I’d expected…
After paying the bill, Isabella half-carried the completely wrecked Kang Hahwi out of the restaurant.
"Kang Hahwi. Tell me your address. I’ll take you home."
Kang Hahwi kept his head hanging and gave no answer. Isabella, growing flustered, kept calling his name when she overheard passersby murmuring as they walked by.
"Whoa. That guy’s fucking gorgeous."
"I’m jealous of that girl…"
"Western girls really do snag guys like that so easily."
"They’re heading straight to a motel after this, right?"
"Duh. Only an idiot would let that one go."
Isabella pretended not to hear and turned her head away. Then she swallowed hard and stole a glance at Kang Hahwi’s face up close.
"······."
Gulp. Seeing him this near, he really was absurdly handsome—enough to make impure thoughts surface on pure instinct. But Isabella fought the temptation down. Doing anything weird to a drunk guy would make her no better than an animal.
Stuff like that is only for someone you actually like…
After learning more about Kang Hahwi’s true self, Isabella had started to feel a small spark of interest—but she refused to acknowledge it. He was the guy her friend liked. In other words, he was someone she had no right to want.
Get a grip. Stop thinking weird things…!
Isabella was taking a deep breath, barely suppressing the desire boiling up inside her, when—
"…Huh?"
A girl walking down the street spotted Kang Hahwi and Isabella and froze in surprise.
"What are you two doing here…?"
It was Seo I-eung.