Without him knowing, another week passed him by. The anxiety he had felt at first as the days continued to slip away from him had long since subsided to a reluctant acceptance of the cruel facts of the world. Being employed in a part time job that barely paid enough for his expenses was just another one of those facts.

Sangmin had been his closest friend since high school. And ever since high school, they had both taken to the diner near their former school. Unlike the many fried chicken and barbecue places around, it was a simple diner that served what one might find in a family meal, and did so while making good food. They both suspected that the diner's owner had been a chef who used to work in a famous restaurant. Unfortunately, the owner hated to talk about himself.

"My food does all the talking for me." He would announce proudly.

Even on that day, as the cashier pulled open the door and stepped into the diner, he was greeted with only a grunt.

Sangmin was already seated in the corner and he raised his hand to draw the cashier's attention. "Oi, Kim Shiwoon. Over here." Even without him calling out, the cashier would have noticed his friend anyway. It was impossible not to; even without the blonde hair of their schooling days, his friend would stand out in any crowd by virtue of his easy smile and dashing looks. If one judged solely by appearances, Sangmin was the perfect Korean man. If one didn’t judge solely by appearances, they might still find him perfect anyway, the cashier thought.

The cashier walked over and took a seat opposite his friend. Looking at Sangmin, he could tell that Sangmin was living a good life. From top to bottom, everything on Sangmin looked branded. "Hello, Sangmin. You seem to be doing well for yourself."

Noticing the cashier's intense gaze, Sangmin scratched the skin above his nose. Funny, the cashier thought, how some habits never changed.

"I'm doing so-so. What about you, you punk? I haven't seen you in forever! Are you doing good?"

"...so-so."

Sangmin slapped the side of the cashier's shoulder. "Aish, since when were you so quiet around me?"

The cashier spotted the watch on his friend's wrist as Sangmin's hand passed him. A Green Forest by Hurin; it was a limited edition watch. The only reason he knew of its existence was because he had been researching watches to buy before…everything. Even then, however, he had known it was impossibly out of his reach. Seeing how successful his friend was in such concrete terms, he bit his lips. This wasn't how he wanted to portray himself. He knew that there was no way someone as astute as Sangmin would miss the fact that he had been dodging eye contact. He knew that his friend was keenly aware of how he was oddly quiet. But he couldn't help it. How was he supposed to admit that he was a failure?

"...hey. You aren't mad at me, are you?" There was a look of concern on Sangmin's face.

The cashier shook his head. "I'm sorry." There was so much more he wanted to say. Try as he might, however, he could not squeeze out a single word that wouldn't make him start bawling. He could sense the wave of words dammed behind his lips. Anything that left his lips now would undoubtedly turn into a pathetic, self indulgent whine. The only option left for him, then, was to keep his mouth shut.

Sangmin shook his head. The cashier wondered if his friend could sense the torrent of emotions raging within him. Perhaps Sangmin was simply being tactful about it, as always.

"You know," Sangmin said, "Sunha's been having some troubles as of late." There was a bitter smile on his face. "She called me last night in tears."

"That Park Sunha? Why? I can't imagine someone as proud as her calling you like that for no reason."

"Right? I had the same thoughts when I picked up last night." He chuckled. "I thought she was in danger or something. Though I guess she was, in a different way."

"What happened?"

Sangmin's expression hardened for a moment. "She couldn't keep up with her debt."

"Debt?" The cashier asked, troubled.

Sangmin nodded. "Debt. She racked up quite a bit on her credit card and her family couldn't afford to pay it."

The cashier could feel his face turning nasty. He let out a deep sigh, returned to a neutral expression. "So, did you help her?"

Sangmin chuckled as if it was an obvious answer. In many ways, it was. "Couldn't leave her to die, could I?"

Some things never changed. "Wow, still a hero, aren't you, goody-two-shoes-one Lee Sangmin?"

Sangmin chuckled, slapped the cashier on the shoulder again. "That's more like it, goody-two-shoes-two."

The cashier shook his head, a wistful smile forming on his lips as he remembered the days that no longer were. "Not anymore."

Sangmin shook his head without saying anything more. "Shall we order then?"

They put their hands up while calling the owner over. The portly man walked over, a frown on his face and a notebook in his hand. "About time you ordered."

They laughed before they ordered two bowls of rice, a large bowl of seaweed soup, some side dishes and, naturally, kimchi. The owner asked if they wanted anything else, and after hearing no, walked into his kitchen, which was separated from the dining area by a curtain.

"He hasn't changed either." The cashier observed, staring at the kitchen.

Sangmin looked back. "He really hasn't."

A silence set in between the two. Unlike their younger days, the cashier could feel an intense pressure to continue the conversation, rather than allowing the silence to take over naturally.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"So, what do you do these days, Sangmin?"

Sangmin turned his head back to look at the cashier. He smiled before saying, "I'm working in YL Group as a manager."

"Manager?" That was absurdly fast; they hadn't even left the army for a year quite yet.

Sangmin nodded with a sad look. "You know how it is."

The cashier took a second look at the watch his friend was wearing. How could he have forgotten? That wasn't the sort of watch you bought after getting a new job, not even as a manager. It was the sort your parents bought for you as a gift of congratulation.

"I see." He said.

Neither of them spoke again until the food came, upon which they began to quickly eat their dinner in socially accepted silence. When all was said and done, the plates had been completely cleaned off, and both men stared at the ceiling.

"I never get tired of this store." Sangmin said.

"Me neither."

Sangmin looked at the cashier. "Still, we can't drink here." He looked at the owner. "Can we?"

The owner grunted in the negative.

"Shall we go for a drink then?" Sangmin said.

The cashier could tell that it was a gesture rooted in consideration. He nodded. Sangmin took out his wallet and paid for the meal, refusing to accept any money from the cashier.

"Just buy me a drink later," he said.

They left the shop without a word of goodbye.

"That ahjussi (uncle) never changes, does he? Still as abrasive as before." Sangmin said.

"Yeah." The cashier nodded.

They went to a nearby street stall which sold soju and drinking snacks. They finished a bottle, each man pouring the soju for the other in silence, and when the second bottle came Sangmin finally spoke again.

"Do you have a job?" Sangmin asked, his voice a little shaky, though his hands remained steady as they brought the shot glass to his mouth. Downing the soju in one shot, he continued speaking. "I know you too well, Kim Shiwoon." He shook his head.

The cashier took a moment, thinking of what to respond while he poured more alcohol into his friend's glass. At last, he opened his mouth. "I don't have a job." Disliking the taste of the words, he downed the soju in his glass as well.

Sangmin chuckled as he refilled his friend's glass. "I knew it. Proud as always, aren't you, Kim Shiwoon."

"How did you know?"

"Why else would you stop answering the group? You were obviously embarrassed and, knowing you, it had to be about something like this."

The cashier scratched the back of his head as he thought hard about what he should say. The alcohol had lowered his guard, made his lips looser. But there were things you told your friends, even your best friends, and things you just didn't. Where everything fell under was still all too clear to him.

"I'm sorry."

"What's there to be sorry about?" Sangmin said. "Aish, this is why I really hate you sometimes."

"Why?"

"You're too earnest. Thinking you need to be perfect. To do everything on your own, to do it all right."

The cashier blinked once, twice, three times as he wondered what to say. He could not help smiling as he said, "I see."

The second bottle of soju was finished just as quickly as the first and then they ordered another one before they went back to talking.

"Come work at YL."

The cashier scowled immediately. "What?"

"I'm not going to do anything too special for you. I'll just give HR your resume, that's all."

"You think they'll refuse your request?" The cashier said, a hint of agitation forcefully entering his voice.

Sangmin sighed. "It's all I can do for my best friend."

The cashier looked away, anger still bristling within. But he knew he couldn't turn down the offer. Pride could be fed to the dogs when there was no food on the table, and while his family were not in such dire straits, he was not arrogant enough to believe they could never fall that far.

"...thank you." He said softly. Even if it were not for the desperation and despair he keenly felt every day working in the convenience shop, he would have thanked his friend anyway. He was blessed, he realised.

Sangmin waved his hand about like he was swatting away a fly near his nose, saying, "It's no big deal."

They finished the third bottle soon after, upon which both men staggered to their feet. Neither of them was drunk - and they knew it - but they had been drinking a lot in a very short amount of time and the alcohol had made its way to their heads. Laughing at his friend, who seemed just a little more woozy than he was, the cashier began to walk consciously towards the road. This late at night, they would need to take a taxi.

He turned back and asked Sangmin a question as a thought struck him. "Didn't you drive here tonight?"

Sangmin shook his head, still smiling. "I didn't." He laughed. "Knew we would be drinking."

The cashier laughed, uncertain whether it was his friend's humor or the alcohol that was pulling him along. Drinking alone was often sad; drinking with a friend, he thought, was always a pleasure.

"Let's get a taxi and go home then."

"Time to go home."

Because it was a weekend night, there were still people out and about despite the late hour. Some were old men, who had just finished a lively drinking session with their friends. Others were young adults, returning from a pub or a party, and they walked unsteadily and bumped into everything as they stumbled. The cashier shook his head. He had been like that once and though it had seemed like the way to live back then, he couldn't even picture himself getting that drunk anymore.

As they waited for a taxi, he heard a woman's shrill voice.

"Get off of me!" She yelled. "Let go!"

The cashier turned his head. The voice came from an alley behind him. When they had been walking by, he had noticed a well dressed man getting touchy with a woman. He had assumed they were just enjoying their youth.

Sangmin had turned his head too, and as they looked at one another, they knew what the other meant to do. They walked towards the source of the conflict, passing a few men and women who were deliberately looking away.

The thought that these bystanders were cowards did not enter his mind; not many thoughts were passing through his mind anyway, but it was to him perfectly logical that people should avoid trouble if it did not come for them. It was the way to live in society, once you got past the naive heroism that only those in school could abide by. And yet, he felt angry. Angry at his messed up life, angry at the messed up world.

The cashier saw the man who was causing the woman to shout. The man had gripped both of the woman's wrists tightly and had pushed her up against the wall. His suit was black; there was also a white shirt, and a silver earring. There was no tie.

Seeing this, the cashier scowled and turned away. He saw that Sangmin had done the same thing, and when he looked at his friend, Sangmin simply shook his head, placed a reassuring hand on the cashier's shoulder. Maybe it was the frustration, but Sangmin held on tightly, fingers beginning to dig into flesh.

"Please, somebody help!"

The cashier clenched his fists. The matter didn't concern him. The woman was a stranger. He had no obligation to help, no obligation whatsoever.

Why was it then, that he could still feel his heart thumping furiously? Why did he feel as if something tender in him would shatter and forever be lost the moment he took a step away?

In the end, Kim Shiwoon could not help it. He shrugged off his friend's grip, walked towards the pair in the alley.

"H-hey, Shiwoon! What are you doing?!"

Someone was speaking behind him. But that man had not followed him into the alley. His voice, therefore, did not, could not follow Shiwoon either. Shiwoon stood alone against the Hunter, knowing that he had plenty of reason to be afraid.

It was just...the thought of running away, of losing that part of him that ached even now, was even more terrifying.

"Let go of her." He said coldly.

The Hunter, who had been in the middle of kissing the woman's neck, moving ever so slowly downwards, looked up at Shiwoon with an irritated expression.

"Do you know who I am?" He smirked.

Shiwoon shook his head. "Let go of her. Or else." Courage was blooming within his heart and he was utterly certain he was doing the right thing.

Hearing that, the Hunter let go of the woman, who immediately sagged to the floor before realising it was not the right place to be crying. She got up hastily, ran away from both men with unsteady steps.

"Or what?" The Hunter came right up to Shiwoon, glaring at him, staring him down.

Shiwoon noticed then that the man had at least four inches on him. He gulped. The situation wasn't looking so good for him. "Or I'll call the police." He was surprised the words didn't break in his throat. That would have been the better outcome, he thought; he wanted to swallow them back down even as he spoke. Why was his mouth even moving, he wondered.

The other man scoffed. "Hey, punk. Let me teach you what happens when you play hero." The Hunter snarled, cocking back his fist before releasing it in a ferocious punch that Shiwoon didn't even see coming.

A brief moment of exceedingly sharp pain was followed by a flash of black; then he felt himself waking up again, feeling powerful and righteous and invincible. His head hurt, his face hurt, his right arm - or was it his left? - felt tingly and everything was blurry. Still, he felt like everything was alright. He could feel his back on the floor, though he did not know when he had fallen. He forced himself to his feet, some part of him nagging at him to stand up, despite still being disoriented and confused. A mocking laugh echoed around him before the world plunged back into darkness.