Present …………...
The Haesal Café, named after the Korean word for "sunshine" was bustling as usual during lunchtime, it’s warm and inviting atmosphere living up to its name. The two-story brown-bricked building stood near a cluster of office buildings, making it the go-to spot for many workers. Outside, a few tables were set up, occupied by regular customers enjoying their break. The café occupied the ground floor, while the second floor served as a private residence for its owner, Uncle Baek, his nephew Ji-Won, and Byeong-Ho, who helped run the café.
"Ji-Won, help me out here!" Uncle Baek’s voice rang out from behind the counter, his tone a little strained from the lunch rush. "Take this to table five, and after that, I need you to handle a delivery. The address is on the receipt."
"On it, Uncle!" Ji-Won replied with a bright smile, swiftly grabbing the tray. He moved through the crowded café with practiced ease, dodging customers as he made his way to the table.
Behind the counter, Uncle Baek worked quickly, his hands a blur as he managed orders, frothed milk, and prepared dishes. Byeong-Ho stood at the register, expertly handling the steady stream of customers lining up to place their orders.
After delivering the drinks, Ji-Won returned to the counter, setting down the empty tray. "Uncle, give me the delivery orders. I’ll drop them off before I head to my part-time," he said, his tone steady and focused despite the busy atmosphere.
Uncle Baek paused briefly, wiping his brow before handing over a bag of takeaway coffee. "Here you go. Don’t be late for your next shift," he said with a playful grin.
"Thanks, Uncle. I won’t be long," Ji-Won replied with a nod, taking the bag and heading out the door. As he stepped outside, Uncle Baek watched him leave, a warm smile spreading across his face. His mind wandered back to that freezing night eighteen years ago when he first came across a young Ji-Won, huddled and shivering on the roadside, lost and alone.
Despite everything Ji-Won had been through, he had grown into a kind, resilient young man. The café’s name, Haesal, symbolized the warmth and light Ji-Won brought into his life. With a deep breath, Uncle Baek returned to his work, feeling a quiet sense of pride.
***
Ji-Won hopped onto his bike and sped off, navigating the busy city streets with ease. He parked near the Han Group of Companies, a familiar stop since many of its employees were regular customers. As he approached the security desk, Ji-Won greeted the guard with a polite bow.
"Sir, I have a delivery for the 18th floor," he said, handing over the receipt.
The security guard smiled warmly. "Ah, Ji-Won! Good to see you. Head on up. You know the way."
Ji-Won returned the smile. "Thank you," he said before making his way to the elevator.
Just as the elevator doors opened, a man rushed past, nearly bumping into Ji-Won. The man quickly apologized, concern written on his face. "I’m so sorry! Are you alright?"
Ji-Won gave a reassuring smile. "I’m fine, sir. No harm done."
In the busy lobby, Youn-Jae stood near the entrance, phone to his ear, barely paying attention to his conversation with a friend in America. His focus drifted as his eyes followed Ji-Won, who moved effortlessly with calm grace and polite gestures, completely unaware of Youn-Jae’s lingering gaze.
Youn-Jae’s expression softened, a subtle smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He found himself captivated by the young man’s presence, the way Ji-Won’s eyes lit up with every smile he gave—so effortlessly charming, so unassuming. What a little pup! he thought, his curiosity piqued as he watched Ji-Won disappear into the elevator.
“President, is something wrong?” his secretary’s voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him of the conversation he had completely tuned out.
Youn-Jae blinked, shaking his head. “No, nothing. Let’s head up,” he replied, though his thoughts lingered on Ji-Won for a moment longer.
Inside the elevator, Ji-Won stood quietly, adjusting the delivery bag in his hands. His mind wandered briefly as he watched the numbers light up one by one, each floor taking him closer to his destination. The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the 18th floor.
“Thank you for keeping me company,” Ji-Won said, offering a polite bow to the man who had accidentally bumped into him earlier and had since shared the elevator ride up.
The man smiled, slightly embarrassed. “No worries, young man. Have a good day.”
Ji-Won made his delivery with the same cheerful professionalism he was known for, leaving the customers with a warm, “Thank you! Enjoy!” before heading back to the elevator. His mood was light as he made his way back down to the ground floor, mentally preparing for his next shift.
As Ji-Won passed through the lobby, something caught his eye. A large screen displayed a striking image of a man, his presence commanding and almost larger-than-life. Ji-Won paused, his breath catching slightly. The man on the screen was stunning, his sharp features and powerful aura reminiscent of a model.
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“Wow,” Ji-Won whispered to himself, unable to tear his gaze away. His brown eyes widened with awe, captivated by the image before him.
Suddenly, a soft voice whispered teasingly in his ear, “Looks good, doesn’t he?”
Ji-Won jumped, startled. He instinctively turned, his hand flying to his ear, but the stranger had already disappeared into the crowd. His heart raced, and his brow furrowed in confusion. “What was that?” he muttered, rubbing his ear in irritation. “A pervert, maybe?”
Shaking his head, Ji-Won cast one last glance at the screen before heading for the door, still slightly rattled by the odd encounter.
Meanwhile, Youn-Jae stood with his secretary near the elevators, his expression unreadable as he mulled over the brief, but impactful, moments he’d observed Ji-Won. That innocent smile, the way he’d stared so intently at the screen—it was endearing in a way that caught him off guard.
“I’ll get your documents from the office, President. You should wait in the car,” his secretary suggested.
Youn-Jae waved him off, a smirk forming on his lips. “No, it’s fine. It was worth coming back.”
As they waited for the elevator, Secretary Min raised an eyebrow, curious. “Worth it? You seem… different today.”
Youn-Jae chuckled softly but said nothing. Instead, he thought about Ji-Won again.
The elevator chimed softly as it arrived at the ground floor. Youn-Jae and Secretary Min stepped in, with Secretary Min dutifully pressing the button for the floor where Youn-Jae’s office was located. The silence between them was broken only by the gentle hum of the elevator. As they ascended, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Youn-Jae’s lips—a subtle sign of his lifted mood. Every now and then, a smirk flickered across his face, almost as if he couldn’t suppress it.
Secretary Min, ever perceptive, raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the unusual lightness in Youn-Jae’s demeanor. “Did something good happen, President?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity as he glanced sideways.
“Hm...” Youn-Jae tilted his head slightly, as if pondering the question. His brow furrowed, but a mischievous glint remained in his eyes. “I suppose you could say that, yes. For me, at least.”
Secretary Min chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. “It’s written all over your face,” he said with a smirk, gesturing toward Youn-Jae’s expression.
Feigning surprise, Youn-Jae lightly touched his own face as though to check. “Is it really that obvious?” His lips curved into a playful grin before he waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, I’m not in the mood to go out. Let’s just order something here.”
“Are you sure, President?” Secretary Min asked, a hint of confusion crossing his features.
“Yes. Oh, and make sure the delivery person brings it straight to my office.”
Secretary Min’s brows furrowed slightly, the request catching him off guard. “You want the delivery person to hand it directly to you?”
“Yes, is there a problem?” Youn-Jae asked, his innocent expression hiding the subtle amusement dancing in his eyes.
Before Secretary Min could reply, the elevator doors slid open. Youn-Jae stepped out confidently, hands casually tucked into his pockets, his stride smooth and deliberate. Secretary Min followed closely, his eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “What’s he up to now? Must be the jetlag.”
Once inside his office, Youn-Jae settled into his chair, leaning back as he crossed his legs and began to slowly swivel from side to side. A smug smile played on his lips as he recalled the moment earlier when he spotted Ji-Won in the lobby, completely focused on the screen. "I wonder... did I look good on that screen?" he mused aloud, an air of self-satisfaction settling over him. “He couldn’t stop staring,” he added, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
His daydream was interrupted by Secretary Min’s voice cutting through his thoughts. “President, I’ve placed the order, and the delivery person will bring it straight here as requested.”
“Good,” Youn-Jae replied, sitting up slightly in his chair. “How long until they arrive?”
“I’m not sure. If you’re that eager, I could always make you coffee from the pantry,” Secretary Min offered with a teasing smile.
“Nah.” Youn-Jae waved his hand dismissively, though his fingers now drummed impatiently on the desk. Minutes passed, and as the anticipation built, so did his restlessness. The clicking sound of his pen filled the room as he impatiently waited for a knock at the door. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a soft rap came from outside.
Youn-Jae stood abruptly but quickly composed himself, smoothing out his shirt and settling back into his chair just as the door swung open. Secretary Min stepped aside to let the delivery person in, but Youn-Jae’s excitement faded as soon as he realized the person wasn’t Ji-Won. His disappointment was written clearly across his face. One delivery turned into two, and then more followed from different cafés, but none of the couriers was Ji-Won.
Thirty minutes later, ten cups of coffee sat untouched on his desk. Youn-Jae’s initial excitement had soured into frustration. He slumped forward, resting his head on the desk with an audible thud, letting out a long, exasperated sigh.
Secretary Min glanced at the growing pile of coffee cups, bemused. “So, what are we going to do with all this coffee, President?” he asked with a lighthearted chuckle, taking a sip from one of the cups.
“Just throw it away,” Youn-Jae muttered, his voice laced with disappointment as he waved his hand dismissively, his face still buried in his arms.
Secretary Min shook his head, setting down the cup and returning to his work, while Youn-Jae sulked like a child denied a treat. Youn-Jae grumbled, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Why didn’t he show up with any of the deliveries?”
The tense atmosphere was suddenly broken by a notification sound from Secretary Min’s laptop. He checked the message and immediately brightened. “President, the university finally responded to our email!”
Youn-Jae’s mood shifted in an instant, his head snapping up. “Really? What did they say?”
“They’ve accepted our proposal,” Secretary Min replied with a smile. “We can start the program, but they suggested kicking it off next spring semester.”
“Next year?!” Youn-Jae frowned, his earlier excitement giving way to impatience. “We might not even be here next month.”
Secretary Min remained calm. “It’s up to you, President. We can always monitor it from Germany and schedule annual visits.”
Youn-Jae considered for a moment, then nodded decisively. “Alright. Let’s move forward with it.”
Secretary Min resumed typing, sending off the final confirmation. As he worked, Youn-Jae leaned back in his chair, the earlier frustration returning in a wave. “And don’t forget to follow up on that orphanage inquiry I mentioned,” he added, his tone quieter now.
“It’s already scheduled, President,” Secretary Min confirmed. “I’ll keep you updated.”
Youn-Jae’s expression softened as he thought back to his real reason for being in Korea. Finding Ji-Won had become more than just a passing thought—it was a mission. His mother had worked at the orphanage years ago, and he clung to the hope that Ji-Won might have passed through there after her death. Searching through university records was a gamble, but it was the only lead he had.
The story doesn't end here......