Han kept glancing at the clock.
Five minutes had passed. Then ten.
Still, Seungmin hadn't come back.
His chest grew tight. He tried to calm himself, but the music around him felt louder now — distorted, like it was pressing into his head.
Suddenly, a man came and sat beside him. Han stiffened instantly, his body tensing as the man leaned a little too close. Without looking at him, Han quietly shifted away.
The man smirked and leaned forward again, voice low.
"If you want, I can buy you a drink."
Han frowned, unease crawling up his spine. "No, thank you, sir. I'm with someone."
"I know," the man said casually, swirling his glass. "But he's not coming back. He ditched you."
Han's heart skipped. "Sir, please… go back to your seat. He will come back. I know he will."
But the man didn't listen. His smile turned crooked, his tone sharp. "Yaaa… why do they always play so hard to get?"
Han's breath quickened. His throat tightened — panic rising in his chest. He tried to stand, but his body wouldn't move.
The man moved closer, his hand brushing against Han's thigh.
"Do you really think he'll come back?" he whispered. "If he really liked you, he wouldn't leave you here for someone else."
The words hit deep — right where Han was already weakest. Maybe it's true, he thought. Maybe Seungmin doesn't care. Maybe he left me because he was familiar with this. Rich man selling there children and wives and partners to other people just for sake of money. He really felt that Seungmin left him.
He was trembling.
The man tilted his glass, spilling wine onto Han's pants.
Han gasped, grabbing a napkin, frantically wiping the stain. His hands were shaking so hard the napkin tore.
"Oh no," the man said mockingly, grabbing Han's wrist. "You ruined your pants. Why don't we go to a room and clean it up… change into something fresh?"
Something inside Han snapped.
The voice, the touch — it wasn't new.
It was familiar.
Blurry flashes rushed through his mind — a memory buried deep. A dinner table. A glass of wine spilling on his shirt. A businessman's voice, gentle but wrong. "Let's go clean it up."
He couldn't see the man's face — just his hand, leading him away.
Han's breathing turned erratic. His vision blurred. No, not again…
He shot up from his seat, panicked, ready to run — but his hand brushed the wine glass on the table. It slipped and crashed to the floor, shattering.
The sharp sound froze him.
His body locked in place. His mind was spinning — flashes of glass, water, that same sound — shattering. He saw himself cleaning the wine in the washroom, the water dripping, the mirror, the floor tilting beneath him—
Then everything went black.
Han collapsed, falling straight onto the broken glass.
The man flinched back, startled. "Hey—! Boy, are you okay?" He crouched beside him, shaking his shoulder, panic replacing his arrogance.
And then—
"Han!"
Seungmin's voice tore through the crowd. He ran toward them, eyes wide in horror. Without a thought, he kicked the man so hard he fell aside, crashing into a chair.
Seungmin knelt, grabbing Han, shaking him gently. "Han! Han, wake up! Please, wake up!"
But Han didn't move.
Seungmin's hands were trembling now. He turned toward the man, rage burning in his eyes. He grabbed his collar and shouted, "What did you do to him?! Did you make him drink something?!"
The man struggled, choking. "I—I didn't do anything! He just—he got up and fainted on his own!"
Seungmin's grip tightened. The fury in his eyes turned wild. Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest bottle and slammed it across the table beside the man — glass splintering everywhere.
"Get out!" he shouted.
Guards rushed toward them, but Seungmin ignored them. He lifted Han into his arms, his voice trembling. "Call an ambulance!"
Then, realizing it would take too long, he held Han closer and whispered, "Hang on, Han. Just hang on."
Without another word, he ran out, carrying him into the cold night — the glass, the music, and the chaos fading behind him.