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“Did you really not know that it was Jung Eungyo?”
Kim Haeda, who was smoking a cigarette, noticed him approaching as he made his way up the stairs connected to the outside and asked.
With a bright smile, Jaehyun climbed the stairs.
“I had no idea. By the way, do you smoke too?”
“I smoke sometimes.”
“I have decided to stop smoking. I don’t think it’s going to be good for my health. I really don’t like the smell that stays on my hands.”
Jaehyun stood face-to-face with Kim Haeda, who looked very serious. Kim Haeda instinctively moved away to avoid the smoke while brushing his hair in irritation.
“Anyway… I don’t want to upset Jung Eungyo, so I will adjust my approach to match your pace. Don’t bring up Lee Dohyun in front of her, and don’t pretend to know anything.”
“Has she still not moved on from my brother?”
Upon first glance, there was a noticeable coldness that emanated from Lee Jaehyun’s slanted eyes.
Kim Haeda gently pressed his fingertips against Lee Jaehyun’s chest, cautioning him with a warning.
“She hasn’t forgotten him yet, but she is feeling annoyed. So, don’t provoke that person who is doing well, and stay quiet. How did Eungyo end her relationship with Lee Dohyun? Be cautious not to get caught, as you are Lee Dohyun’s younger brother.”
“Ah… sure, whatever you say.”
He responded apathetically before quickly snatching the cigarette from Kim Haeda’s mouth and dumping it on the floor. He used his foot to stomp it before kicking the cigarette fag-end towards Kim Haeda’s feet.
“This is a non-smoking building. Regardless of your status as a building owner, it is essential to prioritise the protection of your property. Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow. The owner of the building.”
Lee Jaehyun left Kim Haeda, who was chuckling, behind and entered the parked car. He tossed the note onto the passenger seat and started the engine. As he glanced upward, he noticed that the second-floor window was shrouded in darkness.
That was Jung Eungyo’s house. For some reason, he thought that if he called her name, she would open the window, so he gently pressed his lips together.
“A glass of iced Americano and a butter scone, right?”
Regular customers were familiar with the menu and did not need to ask for it.
“Yes, but I guess someone is moving into the basement today, right?”
Eungyo accepted the card and responded with a smile to a question from Mihee, a loyal customer who had been coming for a long time.
“There is a warehouse in the basement, which they renovated and use as a studio.”
“A studio? Are they familiar with music or have any experience in the field?”
“Not music, but art. Please take your card here.”
“Ah, it’s art!”
“I’ll bring the coffee to your seat.”
“Thank you, boss.”
After giving the card, Eungyo scratched her itchy lips with her teeth. She then took out a scone and carefully placed it in the mini oven. Last night, as a consequence of her curiosity getting the best of her, she ended up with a mosquito bite on her lip.
The fragrant, buttery scent wafted from the warming scones.
Kim Haeda is the talented baker responsible for crafting all of the mouthwatering baked goods available at the cafe. Furthermore, he roasted the coffee beans on his own and went the extra mile by organising a monthly brunch event to cater to his customers.
Anyone would see him as a professional manager or a successful small business owner at such a young age. Moreover, he gained such prominence that he was often referred to as the Yun Dongju of the Korean Literature Department during his college years. 
Probably, even if he didn’t start a cafe, he was a person who would do well no matter what he chose. Even though he seemed to have an easy life in the world, she knew how much of a hard worker Haeda was.
So when Haeda held out his hand, she took it without hesitation.
The scones were warmed with a soft chime. After carefully arranging coffee and scones on a tray, Eungyo served them to the guests. Then she stepped outside into the bustling and erratic atmosphere.
Four employees of a moving company were working diligently under the scorching sun, sweating profusely as they moved luggage.
The moving process began at approximately 9 a.m. However, there was still a fairly large workbench, bags of dirt, and many large boxes left in the moving truck.
It was mentioned that he was in the sculpture department, and Lee Jaehyun’s moving objects were anything but ordinary.
‘But did he throw off it properly?’
As she scratched her itchy lips with her teeth and searched for luggage in the warehouse, she suddenly changed her mind.
It seemed that he cleaned it up by himself.
Moreover, she didn’t feel like checking with the person who did the troublesome work on her behalf whether he had appropriately disposed of it.
With her hands tucked into her apron, she entered the cafe, her fingernails marking her swelling lips.
“What’s wrong with your lips?”
Kim Haeda, who came out of the baking room with a slice of cake in hand, frowned as he stood behind the counter. Throughout the morning, he had been occupied and finally brought out a strawberry cake that was just as delicious as the previous one, regardless of where it came from.
“I was bitten by a mosquito. By the way, where did you buy the strawberries? Are there any left? Can I eat this?”
As Eungyo approached him with shining eyes, he gently pushed her forehead. Later, he opened the showcase refrigerator and delicately placed the cake, which had been divided into six pieces.
“If you go inside, I put it in a tray. Eat that.”
“What about the cake?”
“Just eat the leftover strawberries.”
As she entered the baking room, she rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone. Not long after, she was notified of a delivery and received an email from a specific publishing company.
Nonchalantly, she retrieved a silver tray of freshly picked strawberries from the washbasin before casually opening the mailbox.
Her jaw dropped slowly as she read the content addressed to “Writer Jung Eungyo.” Her fingertips were coated in a delightful mixture of sweet and tangy strawberry juices.
The publisher sent the email in response to the manuscript that she had submitted a few months ago.
However, Eungyo closed the email without reading the entire message.
She felt sick to her stomach as if she had gastritis, and her chest felt tight. Leaning against a wall nearby, she casually munched on the strawberry with a nonchalant expression.
……The piece delves into the protagonist’s deep emotions and their battle with depression, portrayed through a distinct sentence structure that is synonymous with the artist’s style. Articles exploring popular storylines, typical summaries, and the prevailing feeling of hopelessness among contemporary individuals have become less popular due to an oversaturated market. In the past, the artist’s work was characterised by a distinct synopsis and subject matter. I miss the plots that I didn’t know to be afraid of. Writer, why don’t you take a little more time off? We’re……
While the email did offer some thoughtful advice, it ultimately conveyed a rejection. Did they really spend all this time just to refuse?
Honestly, she had given up on the publication. As soon as she realised that she hadn’t received an immediate reply, she had a feeling that the manuscript would be rejected.
If this is going to happen, it’s better not to contact her until the end.
If they politely refuse by mentioning the past, they won’t even be able to show their foolish stubbornness.
She had no choice but to accept it.
She tossed the strawberry tops in the trash and then went to wash her hands in the sink to clean up the mess.
Yeah, it’s not like she was immersed in the work and took it seriously anyway. She just happened to be lucky enough to have work that sold well, and she never thought it was a result of her skills.
However, she felt short of breath and sick to her stomach. She felt a sense of shame, as if she were denying her efforts.
‘The past is a synopsis full of the author’s personality and unique material. I miss the plots I tackled without fear.’
It was a thing of the past….
As Eungyo stared at the wet washbasin, a vivid memory flooded her mind, appearing like an afterimage. Frustration filled her throat, causing her lips to purse tightly.
At the end of lunch, after a hectic afternoon filled with customers, she felt a surge of anxiety as she noticed a car driving away at the end of lunch.
“I’m going to leave for a moment.”
All the orders had been completed, and now the only remaining task was to wash the dishes.
“Where are you going? What about rice?”
“It will only take a moment. I’m in the basement… I have a question to ask.”
Kim Haeda, who was organising receipts in the basement, raises his head. A faint look of irritation appeared on her face, which had always been smiling as she stood in front of her guests.
Eungyo inexplicably shrank and subsequently altered her decision.
“I’ll do the dishes. Forget it. I’ll come back soon.”
“No worries; enjoy a meal while you’re out.”
“I don’t feel hungry.”
“You still need to eat. Don’t covet a cake for sale.”
Nodding her head, Eungyo took off her apron, folded it neatly, and left the cafe. The entrance, which had been cluttered with moving luggage earlier in the day, was now spotless and free of any evidence.
Before going down to the basement, she glanced at the recycling bin located at the rear of the building.
If he had put out any waste, it would have been there. She only needed to retrieve the idea notebook from the iron drawer, but there was no clutter in sight.
She had no other option but to ask him directly.
She ran down the stairs, pressing her red, swollen, and itchy lips with her fingernails. A gentle light gradually dispelled the darkness, while the captivating melodies of the famous city pop music emanated from the wide-open studio door.
“Excuse me, hello. I came here because I have a question to ask you.”
As Eungyo entered the room, her words trailed off, and her gaze was immediately drawn to the bare back of a man.
Lee Jaehyunn’s back was as clear as its contours, mirroring the intricate lines of a human muscle map. From the collarbone to the hips. His back, taut and sinewy, arched in a perfect curve without any flab.
He picked up the shirt that was lying on the floor, then turned his gaze towards the motionless Eungyo and squinted his eyes. He appeared to be quite tired.
“I was just about to change my clothes because they were very dirty. I sweated a lot.”
Eungyo was startled, and closed her eyes tightly. She pretended to be calm, but her mind was almost like a war zone.
Why did the timing always seem to be like this? She wanted to run away quickly.
With her eyes tightly closed, she asked him a question.
“I have a question for you. By any chance, where did you throw away my luggage?”
He responded with a raspy voice.
“I’ve thrown that away in the trash; why?”
“Ah… did you happen to throw away the dresser as well?”
“The dresser? Ah, the metal dressers. I did not throw that away.”
Surprised, she opened her eyes. Lee Jaehyun, who has appeared directly before Eungyo, bursts into laughter, seemingly finding it amusing.
Even though he was wearing a light beige, loose-fitting shirt, his muscular body was not hidden.
“Would you like the dresser back?”
“Oh, that’s not what I meant… What about the things inside it?”
“The stuff? Ah… the condom. Hasn’t that already expired? Three years is quite a long time.”
Eungyo vigorously shook her head, struggling to catch her breath. Yes, she had something like that, but she didn’t even think about it.
“Not that, but a note. By any chance, have you happened to see the note?”
“Where did you throw it off? I would like to find it, if possible.”
Lee Jaehyun tilted his head and brushed away his sweaty hair. His towering height commanded attention, as even the slightest movement seemed to magnify his presence.
It would have been better to just say that he threw it away, or if he didn’t know, he didn’t know, but Lee Jaehyun hesitated.
She made eye contact with Lee Jaehyun for the first time when she entered the recording studio.
At that time, she felt as if she had been met with eyes that seemed to take a picture. And now, Eungyo once again wanted to run away from the incomprehensible pressure.
“Um, Lee Jaehyun…”
“Senior, what’s in there that makes you so desperate?”
He lowered his gaze and glanced at Eungyo with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, he gently held her chin and lightly pressed his thumb against her lips. He gently pressed his fingernail onto the swollen mark left by the mosquito bite, causing a small indentation.
Instinctively, she tried to shift her body and turn her face, but she found herself tightly restrained and unable to move.
“Your lips are swollen. Do you let anyone suck it like this?”
“I left that note at home. I don’t think it’s something to be thrown away carelessly.”
Calmly, he turned around and headed towards the pile of luggage where he had placed her belongings, as if the rude behaviour he had displayed just moments ago had never occurred.
He casually opened the box and took out the items one by one.
Eungyo, who was blinking in astonishment, walked towards him like a person possessed by something.
A thin beam of light shone through the window in the basement, casting its bright path across the empty worktop.
“Give it back to me. I just need a notebook.”
She stood behind Jaeheon Lee and spoke.
He, truly unbelievable. She chuckled at the notion of him being the proprietor.
He took out a transparent, meditating Buddhist figure crafted from delicate glass on the nearby shelf.
“I’ll buy you food; I will.”
“Well, I have a lot of money. Sunbae.”
“Then what can I do for you? Can I help you unpack your luggage? That is purely my help.”
After contemplating for a moment whether it was quite appealing, he turned around with a very pretentious smile. She was the one who was startled again.
He gazed at her lips, noticing the faint marks left by his fingernails, before abruptly lowering his head. His wet hair moved closer.
“Can I tell you anything, like everything?”
 Yoon Dongju is a brilliant poetic word that Poet Yoon Dongju wrote down steadily revealing the traces of his life and practise.