For several days, Hae-som hadn’t been feeling well.

Every woman went through it once a month, but knowing that didn’t make the cramps any easier to bear. No matter how hard she tried to shrug them off, the pain kept jabbing at her lower abdomen. It felt as though she were carrying a cactus inside her.

Still, she couldn’t afford to slack off.

After all, she’d already been branded as the chef’s favorite. Now that Eun-seong had entered the picture too…

The stares that had finally begun to die down came back sharper than ever, striking her from every direction. After putting up with those looks for so long and having no appetite to begin with, she barely ate. It was only a matter of time before her insomnia flared up again.

She stood in the parking lot, staring blankly at the monsoon rain streaking across the empty lot. Her eyes were dull, drained of any spark. The flame from a portable gas burner crackled nearby, briefly reflecting in her dark pupils.

“You two fight again?”

Hwi clicked his tongue on purpose as he snapped a pack of instant noodles into four pieces.

Hey, breaking the noodles is cheating…

Even in her dazed state, Hae-som frowned in silent protest.

“Well, who’d be happy watching someone hang around with a guy who could be a friend—or an ex? This is a workplace, not the neighborhood playground.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“A friend? Yet you didn’t even know he came in for an interview? Something about that smells fishy. If I were Chef, I’d be suspicious too.”

The funny thing was, Jae-geon hadn’t shown much of a reaction.

Lately he’d been busy with outside appointments, and even when the two of them ended up alone, he never brought up what had happened that night. He kept things strictly between head chef and trainee.

If the person involved wasn’t making a fuss, why was everyone else?

Judging by how distant he’d become again, Hae-som wasn’t even sure they’d ever sleep together again.

If she’d ever looked at Eun-seong as a man, maybe this wouldn’t have felt so unfair.

But she hadn’t.

He was simply a childhood friend—the only person left who shared her memories of Eun-ho.

Wasn’t it childish to assume a man and a woman had to become lovers just because they were opposite sexes?

A small crease formed between Hae-som’s brows.

“You don’t have any female friends, do you?”

“…What?”

“I don’t know. You just seem like the type.”

The finger that had been shaking seasoning into the boiling water flicked her directly on the forehead.

“One brat wasn’t enough? Now you’re getting cheeky too? And where the hell is that kid?”

As if he’d heard the shouting, Yoo Jae-min came running over with one hand shading his eyes from the rain. A microwave rice bowl bulged from each pocket of his pants, and despite panting for breath, he wore a huge grin.

Hwi narrowed his eyes.

“You were flirting with the convenience store clerk again, weren’t you?”

“Flirting? I got results.”

“Oh?”

Squatting beneath the awning, Jae-min snapped a pair of disposable chopsticks apart with a bright smile.

“I got her number. We’ve got a date on my day off.”

“Oh? Well, that’s unexpected.”

Jae-min chuckled, looking pleased with himself.

“You always underestimate me, hyung.”

“Don’t get cocky and let it fizzle out. Do it properly this time.”

“Oh, come on.”

Grumbling, Jae-min lifted the still-firm noodles onto the pot lid.

Before he could blink, Hwi snatched them away and slurped them down with obvious satisfaction.

Ignoring the now-familiar bickering, Hae-som poured her share into a paper cup.

Through the billowing steam, the low growl of a sleek sports car rolled into the parking lot.

Hwi nodded toward the car as it glided past.

“A man’s confidence comes from money and what’s between his legs. Just look at Chef.”

“Chef’s a special case. The young master of the Jinwoorim family isn’t exactly someone we can compare ourselves to.”

Hae-som, who had been in dazed poking at her noodles, perked up.

Jinwoorim?

Jinwoorim was one of the country’s five largest food companies, especially famous for fermented products like gochujang, doenjang, and soy sauce.

What did that have to do with Jae-geon?

“Please. He’s spent his whole life trying not to rely on his mother’s family.”

Hwi greeted Jae-geon with a nod as he climbed out of the Panamera.

“For someone with that kind of money, he lives pretty simply.”

Hae-som tilted her head.

His mother’s family was the Jinwoorim family?

Then did Venerable Jong-myeong belong to his father’s side?

Rain-soaked dress shoes stepped into her lowered field of vision.

She could feel Jae-geon’s gaze slide past the top of her head and settle on the pot of ramen.

The silence stretched long enough to make her blurt out,

“Would you like a bite?”

“That’s supposed to count as a meal? You chefs…”

Jae-min held up two bowls of microwave rice with a grin.

“We’re making ramen porridge afterward. Sorry, Chef, but we’ve only got enough for three.”

The muscles along Jae-geon’s neck tightened as he turned away with an irritated look.

For a split second, he looked exactly as he had on the night they’d crossed the line.

Hae-som pressed her lips together.

---

“So, let me get this straight. The guy who said, ‘See you later,’ to you earlier is your childhood buddy. A real guy friend. Zero chance of that turning into romance.”

Hwi’s voice was louder than usual.

He’d been like this ever since Eun-seong had poked his head into the chef’s station and flashed Hae-som a smile.

Jae-min pulled a face.

“There’s no such thing as a real guy friend. They’re all fake.”

“I’ve got real female friends.”

“Sure you do.”

Maybe they were putting on a show because Jae-geon was nearby.

Unfortunately, he’d stopped paying attention to their corner a long time ago.

Entrée dishes kept flowing out from the chef’s table, and every ticket clip was full.

Besides, Jae-geon hadn’t shown the slightest sign of suspecting Eun-seong.

She’d confessed the truth about their relationship because her own conscience bothered her, but if she hadn’t, nothing probably would’ve happened anyway.

Someone like Jae-geon—

With a career no one could touch, good looks, and a wealthy family—

Wouldn’t see Yoo Eun-seong as much of a threat.

After sending out another entrée, Jae-geon turned his lean waist toward the grill.

“Table One’s main course isn’t up yet?”

Han Seung-jun, who had been smirking at Hwi’s obvious attempt to stir the pot, flipped the sweetfish sasljeok on the grill.

“Two minutes.”

“You’ve got an assistant. Why are you still so slow? One minute thirty.”

“Yes, Chef.”

Hae-som stood beside Seung-jun like his shadow, waiting for the sasljeok to finish cooking.

Meanwhile, Jae-geon arranged the warmed Not plates from the warming cabinet on the chef’s table and checked the garnishes Hae-som had prepared.

The tray holding the beautifully grilled sasljeok nudged her lightly in the side.

Delivering dishes from each station to the chef’s table was Hae-som’s main job, so she carried it over as usual.

Without even looking at her, Jae-geon took the tray from her hands.

He carefully checked the doneness of both the sweetfish and the meat, his expression giving nothing away.

That was why his quiet warning felt almost unreal.

“If you start dropping your chopsticks, you’re drunk. Eat plenty before you end up blacking out again.”

---

The soft clinking of glass pulled Hae-som out of her thoughts.

Eun-seong was tapping his soju glass with a bottle cap looped around his finger like a ring.

“You’re not going to toast with me?”

“How old-fashioned.”

Their glasses clinked over the grill where strips of pork belly sizzled.

Hae-som only drank half her full glass of soju.

The first glass is supposed to be a one-shot…

Jae-geon’s words surfaced again.

If you start dropping your chopsticks, you’re drunk. Eat plenty before you end up blacking out again.

The more she thought about it, the more it felt like he’d seen the future.

Eun-seong had done nothing more than say hello at work.

It wasn’t until after service ended that he’d suggested they grab a drink to celebrate.

For some reason, it bothered her that she’d fallen right within Jae-geon’s expectations.

Still, what could she do?

She couldn’t compete with someone who had years more experience than she did.

She should probably listen.

Setting down her half-full glass, Hae-som wrapped a slice of grilled pork belly in a leaf of pickled garlic greens.

She still had no appetite.

Her empty stomach accepted it anyway.

Eun-seong reached for her glass to refill it out of habit, then stopped halfway.

“What’s with pacing yourself?”

“What?”

“Since when did you start acting all ladylike?”

Good question.

Eun-seong was the one friend she could trust to drag her home no matter how drunk she got.

After everything they’d been through together, why was she suddenly acting like this?

“There’s no such thing as a real guy friend.”

Jae-min’s words kept drifting back into her mind, putting a damper on the evening.

Just in case… it wouldn’t hurt to be a little careful.

“So what did your chef say when he heard you were going drinking with another guy? Tell you to keep your distance?”

“Since when are you ‘another guy’? You’re my friend.”

The disappointment in Eun-seong’s gray-brown eyes was impossible to miss.

The emotion hit her so directly that Hae-som froze for a few seconds before without realizing it, finishing the rest of her drink.

She dabbed a little ssamjang onto her chopsticks to cut the bitterness lingering on her tongue, then shrugged as if it were nothing.

“I’ve got work tomorrow. I’m already running on fumes, so I should take it easy tonight. Ah, but maybe a college kid wouldn’t understand the responsibilities of working life.”

“Listen to you.”

“I’m paying for this with money I earned. Let me brag a little, okay?”

You’re so stingy.

If it had been Oppa Eun-ho, he would’ve ruffled her hair until the back of her head wore smooth.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t thought about him in a while.

These days, memories of Eun-ho only seemed to surface whenever she was with Eun-seong.

After a few more rounds of toasts, with the atmosphere growing warmer and the drinks taking effect, Hae-som finally spoke.