|| Airport Parking Lot ||

“What’s taking him so long?” Hana complains as she pokes her steaming head out of Chunji’s silver Porshe Carrera Gt. It’s been thirty minutes since the four of you parted with LJoe and your impatient cousin just hit her limit.

“I’m sure he’s—” you begin, trying to calm her down, but Chunji interferes as he soon as he comes out of his car.

He takes a sip from the Saratoga bottle in his hand and prepares his mouth for an interesting assumption. “Well, let’s see…if we examine the facts,” he begins, tapping a finger to his pressed lips.

Suddenly thirsty for some new knowledge, your all-for-gossip cousin listens in closely while you stay leaned against LJoe’s new Mansory Ferrari, eavesdropping quietly as this silly guy resumes his unsupported theory.

“LJoe's been gone for over half an hour now,” Chunji states after checking his watch. “It takes him no more than two minutes to identify attractive women—no more than twenty-nine of age, if I may add—thirty seconds to evaluate and select his target, five to lure them with his charms, and two seconds to make them fall madly in love with him,” he explains as he counts down with his fingers, “That totals up to approximately three minutes—also known as Casanova’s Three Minute Process.”

Taking another glance at his Rolex, he nods his head and flashes a proud grin. “Yeah, it's very likely he's still eating her face as we speak,” he states, causing a detailed image of LJoe making out with some girl to appear in your head.

“EH?” you blurt out, shocked—and a little annoyed—of what you just imagined. “Jeong…mal…yo? (Really?)” you ask cautiously while wearing a smile of disbelief.

“Yup!” Chunji answers, beaming with confidence. “But he should be just about done by now. LJoe usually gets tired of them after a couple of minutes or so,” he assures you and finishes his thoughts to himself, “…I guess this one must've been a good catch since he's taking forever.”

Changjo—who’s been sitting on the hood of his orange Lamborghini Gallardo—can’t help but laugh at this friend’s fairly accurate claim. Chunji’s story may be a tad bit exaggerated, but it’s something he can vouch for. “Casanova’s Three Minute Process…oh, I haven’t heard that in a while,” he comments in between chuckling and catching his breath.

"Oppa," Hana calls, looking at the storyteller with rounded and hopeful eyes, “You—you don’t—do you?"

Shinil’s third in command gives her a childish smile. "Of course not!” he exclaims, “Only LJoe plays around like that.”

“Only I play around like what?” LJoe’s familiar voice interrupts from a short distance away.

“Well you look like you had fun,” Hana comments with audible disappointment as she slides back down to her seat.

The innocent LJoe turns to his friends, but the two guys simply send wide grins in his direction. 

“Your lips look a little swollen there,” Changjo teases as he hops off the hood.

LJoe looks at them with multiple question marks hanging above his head, “Huh?”

"We get it,” Chunji answers before disappearing inside his ride.

“Tell us about it later,” Changjo adds, believing his friend is feigning ignorance for your sake.

Confused, Shinil’s leader sets his eyes on the last candidate that can give him a proper explanation: you. But as he opens his mouth to speak, you avoid his gaze and walk around to the passenger seat in silence, slamming the door shut after you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Today is definitely not my day,” he breathes out tiredly before getting in.

|| …………. ||

As he drives back to the mansion, the only noise inside his car is the song playing on the radio—which just happens to be Kang Gary’s “JOA”.

Unknowingly becoming more annoyed with every lyric that enters your ears, you extend a hand and shut off the music with gritted teeth. You casually slump back down on your seat and lean your head against the window, taking secret glances at LJoe, whose eyes remains fixed on the road, looking like he’s lost in thought.

When he finally catches you staring, you quickly look away and pretend to be preoccupied with something else.

“Whatever those two told you, don’t believe any of it. Understand?” he orders with a firm voice.

You press your lips together and refrain from answering, but after sensing his piercing eyes glaring at you, you let out a defeated sigh. “Ne,” you reply softly.  

With his focus back on driving, you slowly sit up on your seat and make invisible doodles on the tinted window. “Hey LJoe,” you call after some time.

“Hm?”

“If I may ask…” you continue, trying to tiptoe your way into revealing the truth, “how many girlfriends have you had?”

“I'm sorry?” LJoe replies, taken aback by your question.

“How many—” you repeat, but before you can finish, he cuts you off.