10 years later.

            “Namjoo, why didn’t you respond to my messages?!” A glass shattered as someone carelessly got up from a table.

            Heads of the café visitors turned in curiosity, but then quickly looked away in disinterest - just another messy lovers' quarrel.

            “For god’s sake Sungjong, calm down! Please, can’t we talk somewhere else? You already broke something!” Namjoo half-whispered, already thoroughly embarrassed by the spectacle her partner was making. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t gotten that expensive short haircut a few days back; otherwise she could’ve buried her face in shame and never had to see the world again.

“Somewhere else? SOMEWHERE ELSE?” Sungjong shrieked. As good looking as he was, at this time he looked like he was ready to stab someoned. In the 4 long years they’ve known each other, she never saw him this furious. Sungjong’s almond-shaped eyes were bloodshot, maybe from frustration, or alcohol, or from lack of sleep (probably all three). His usually neat hair was a mess, and his friendly, calm self was buried in a man hole by his rage.

Another glass flew straight to the floor, this time on purpose. “Have you no consideration whatsoever for me?!” A few plates full of untouched food slid off and crashed. “Every time I confront you, you try to talk “somewhere else”! I’m sick of it!” Sungjong bought his fist down so hard the glass table tipped and crashed. Blood vessels at his temples throbbed and his hands literally shook.

            “P-Please, you’re not yourself! You’ve been out drinking!” Namjoo yanked him violently by the sleeve to level his face with hers, and hissed “Tomorrow you’ll wake up and once again burry your face into a pillow for hours on end, remembering this embarrassment!”

            “Then I’ll make sure to take my time embarrassing myself!” Sungjong struggled free from her grip and rushed to the middle of the café.

            “Sungjong, your hand is bleeding—” Namjoo called in horror, but was ignored.

            “LISTEN UP!” Sungjoo yelled like a madman, his eyes twinkling. Some café visitors turned to him in boredom, others snickered. Namjoo just sat there helplessly, trying to keep the last shred of dignity she had left and not cry.

“THIS CHEATED ON ME! WHILE I WAS WORKING HARD TO EARN MONEY FOR HER BIRTHDAY PRESENT, SHE WAS AT THE KARAOKE BAR WITH A BUNCH OF GUYS DRI—”

Before Sungjong had a chance to continue, a long bill and some repair papers were shoved right up to his nose, nearly making him lose his balance. He blinked continuously, surprised and a little too drunk to understand why all of a sudden his vision was filled with black and white lines.

             A soft, but serious female voice spoke from behind the papers.

“21,553₩ for the glasses, 9,699₩ each plus tax. Roughly 64,660₩ for the plates. 255,410₩ for the table. And if you refuse to pay now, I can always report and make the police add a 107,768₩ ticket for Public Disturbance. So please, dearest customer” a pen popped up beside the paper “sign here and get out.”

Sungjong stammered and swayed from side to side. He felt sick all of a sudden.

“O-of course, we’ll sign—” Namjoo saw Sungjong’s paralyzed state as an opening and rushed in before he could object and make things worse. She quickly grabbed the papers and the pen, scribbled her name and signature where needed, and handed them back with an already prepared check.

There went her monthly savings…

“One moment, please…” Namjoo said as she dragged Sungjoo out the doors. After buying him a bottle of water and seating him in the shade, she called his friends and told them where to pick him up. Namjoo then gave a quick peck on the forehead to the dozing off Sungjong, and rushed back to the café in order to find the waitress who billed her. But she was gone; only after running a lap around the block did Namjoo find her taking out the trash in the back alley.

A little out of breath, Namjoo felt awkward when the waitress looked up at her. She didn’t remember her being the same age as herself. Then again, she hardly took the time to look at her properly. It’s a miracle she recognized her at all! And the girl was pretty. Very, very pretty!

“Ahh…thank you…umm…” Namjoo felt herself blushing. She really should’ve thought what to say to her beforehand.

“It’s Naeun. Son Naeun.” the waitress filled in and continued to do her work as if Namjoo wasn’t there. “What are you thanking me for?”

“I mean…you did help calm SungJong down…I’ve never seen anyone handle him so easily, and he has quite the temper…”

Naeun promptly her heel and made two large strides towards Namjoo, leaving only an inch or two between them. Namjoo felt herself shrinking, though Naeun hardly towered over her in terms of height.

“Miss, please don't misunderstand. I was only doing my job. Or do you suppose I should have just stood there and watched customers leave?” Namjoo never felt so stupid in her life. She was temped to look away but she was nailed dead by Naeun’s static stare.

“Ah, well…then you’re good at your job…well…” Namjoo stammered. “I mean…it may have not seemed much to you but…” Even she had no clue what she was saying. “But you did help me! You didn’t do much, true, but you were so cool doing it! I could never do something like that. I was so scared in that moment…now that I think about it, why was I scared? Son Naeun, I never had people stand up for me that way, you’re amazing!” She felt a rush of warm happiness overflow her as she said the last phrase.

“Miss, I just said I—”

 “Yes, yes! Sorry you have to go—” Feeling like a nuisance Namjoo started to back away, but stumbled over a bag behind her foot. As she began to fall, Naeun grabbed her wrist in an iron grip and pulled her up.

Without looking to check on Namjoo, the waitress picked up the bag and grumbled “God, what’s with people leaving their stu– Ow!” Just as Naeun was about to fling the bag into the dumpster, she threw it down in pain. The bag fell, and beer bottle pieces broke through. Blood dripped from Naeun’s hand.

“Glass! Wait, let me get you a band-aid” Namjoo immediately started to go through her chaotic leather bag. “And disinfect it before you do anything!” A band-aid pack finally appeared in her hands. She yanked Naeun to the nearest bench around the corner and began to treat her cut.

“Now, I have more if you need—”

“I’m fine, I—” Naeun objected.

 “—but you should run back to clean it and—”

“Thank you, but plea—”

“—My, what idiot throws out a bag full of glass anyways? I remember my mom told me how—”

“I’M FINE!” Naeun forcefully pulled her hand away in disgust and frowned at Namjoo. She lowered her voice again. “It’s nothing, I’ll live.”

“But—” Namjoo reached out, but Naeun just got up and left without a word of good-bye.

Namjoo, for the second time today, just sat there, ignored, with her hands full of band-aids.

How rude can a person be? I was only trying to help!

“Why did I even bother to chase after her in the first place!” She mumbled and put everything back in disappointment. A minute later the movers called notifying Namjoo that her boxes arrived to the new address; in a hurry to open the door for the workers, she no longer had time to think of Naeun.

=====

Author's Notes: I promise the story will speed up soon ^^'' Myungsoo may or may not have to be put off till Chapter 4, but I promise he'll have plenty of time to shine. Also, if any of you see a really eye-burning typo or mistake, tell me, I'll fix it ^^

Once again, thank you for reading!