Success doesn't always knock. Sometimes it bursts through the door, flips the table and expects you to know how to go with it.
The iPhone ringtone rang from inside Amara's Jean pocket while she just finished wiping the tables.
"Mi na, are you not supposed to be writing an exam?" Amara asked walking back to the counter, hand on her waist.
"Check your phone, this is huge. I sent a link. Bye" Mi na dropped the call before Amara could even say anything else. "This girl, it better not be a TikTok" she rolled her eyes.
Amara stood at the counter, her hands trembling slightly and her mouth slightly open as she held the latest issue of Seoul Eats Weekly. There, in bold letters, was the headline: " A Culinary Gem: Naija Soul Brings Nigeria to Seoul."
"He wrote about it, he wrote about it" she squealed.
The food critic's words echoed as she read: "Naija Soul offers an authentic and vibrant taste of Nigerian cuisine, a refreshing addition to Seoul's culinary scene. The suya-spiced chicken and jollof rice is a must-try, and don't get me started on the pounded yam and afang soup, it's heavenly."
"Great customer service and the owner of the place is humble, social and kind"
"You should totally check it out!" He finished with pictures of the food she served him that day, she didn't even notice he had taken pictures and boy they came out so good. "Thank God I used this plates!" She jumped around breathlessly.
The soft jingle of the doorbell rang like a melody, just as she barely finished the article she was reading. And in came in a sudden burst of energy. Five high school students in matching uniforms of white and black, skin flushed from the sun, eyes wide with excitement. One of the girls clutched her phone like it was gold, waving it towards others.
"I think this is the place you guys!" She said practically bouncing and filming at the same time. "The one from Nam Joon's review, it has crazy ratings now."
The group of excited girls paused at the doorway, taking in the warm inviting interior, wooden tables glowed under soft lights, and the strong aroma of something beautiful they weren't sure what it was.
Behind the counter Amara looked up from her phone in surprise, she hadn't expected the critic's review to ripple up so fast. Her heart picked up speed, Mi na wasn't here yet. But she quickly smoothed her apron and stepped forward with a soft smile.
"Welcome to Naija Soul" she said voice steady but warm. "Please take a seat anywhere you'd like" she finished waving her hand around. The scrambled to the table by the window, talking over each other, pointing to the menu that was placed neatly on the table, giggling like it was their first time without adults. One of the boys whispered to his friend "Do you think she's the chef? She looks cool"
Amara heard it and smiled. "Yes I'm the chef" she said, bringing out her notepad from inside her apron pocket and a pen.
"I'll have the house special" one of the girls spoke. "I'm a mukbang content creator, is it okay if I shoot a quick video here?" She finished, with her hands clasped together and pouted lips.
"Sure but leave me a good review " Amara winked at her before turning over to the rest.
"I want to have everything Nam Joon had, I love him so much" the other girl practically squealed.
"Can I have the afang soup? I'm so curious how it tastes" the boy smiled.
"Deh coming right up!" Amara gave them a soft smile before she walked over to the counter and returned with bottles of Fanta and glass cups to calm their throats before the main show comes; there was an unshakable smile tugging on her lips. They came because of the review. Because someone saw her. Because her food was finally noticed.
"oh I wish Mi na was here, what am I gonna do?" She whispered to herself and she got their order ready.
The rain had ceased, leaving behind glistening streets and a crisp freshness in the air. Inside Naija Soul, the atmosphere buzzed with newfound energy. Amara stood behind the counter, her eyes scanning the bustling dining area where every table was occupied.
She couldn't believe it.
The once-quiet restaurant had transformed into a vibrant hotspot, a change sparked by the recent glowing review in Seoul Eats Weekly.
The critic's words kept echoing in her mind none stop: "Naija Soul offers an authentic and vibrant taste of Nigerian cuisine, a refreshing addition to Seoul's culinary scene. The suya-spiced chicken is a must-try, and the jollof rice is a flavorful journey in itself." She had mastered those words that it rang in her head every 2 minutes. She smiled.
Since the review's publication, today had been crazy, locals and tourists alike flocked to experience the flavors Amara poured her heart into. The line stretched out the door, and the phone rang incessantly with reservation requests.
Amara hit her head hoping to get to the itch inside her hair. She was confused. She had a lot of orders but seem to be frozen at the spot.
"Amara how are you coping?" She looked up and saw Mi na walking fast towards the counter with a backpack at her back that she quickly dropped. She sighed a loud sigh of relief and hugged Mi na tightly, "it's crazy here, where did they all come from? there's a long line outside and I can barely serve all by myself and they keep coming and i..."
"I'm here now Amara, let's be quick" Mi na quickly tied her hair in that famous bun and went to wash her hands, put on that apron and carried 5 plates of food at once in her tiny hands. And just like that Amara heaved a long sigh of relive as she followed her with tray of hot food.
Jihoon stepped through the familiar glass doors of the restaurant, the little brass bell overhead giving a quick chime. But unlike the first time he was here, the place wasn't quiet anymore. It was alive. Tables full, laughter bouncing off the walls, forks clinking against plates. The once-cozy space now buzzed with a kind of chaotic joy.
He paused just inside, eyes sweeping over the crowd. Every seat was taken. People were even waiting by the door, scanning menus like they couldn't wait to taste what they'd read in the critic's review.
And there she was. Her. Moving between tables with a notepad in one hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear. A strand of hair had fallen loose from her pontail, and she kept blowing at it with a tiny puff of frustration. Her apron was slightly crooked, and her hands were full, but she looked... radiant.
She hadn't seen him yet.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" a customer called.
"Gayo isseo!" she answered, spinning toward the voice, trying to scribble down an order while balancing a tray in her other hand.
Jihoon smiled, part impressed, part amused. This was a different version of her. Not the one who leaned shyly against the counter while talking to him as he ate the delightful plate of jollof rice and peppered chicken. She smiled shyly when he said it was good. But the woman who ran this place with quiet strength and a fire in her eyes. They were different.
When her gaze finally landed on him, she froze mid-step.
Their eyes locked, only for a second, but it was enough to steal her breath. And suddenly, the noise in the restaurant seemed to fade into the background.
"Jihoon?" she said, almost disbelieving. His face was a sculptor's masterpiece, clean lines, a defined jaw, cheekbones that caught the light just right. His jet black hair was pushed back in soft waves, not too styled but never out of place, giving him the look of someone who didn't chase attention, he simply just had it.
He stepped forward, hands in his pockets, a teasing smile on his lips.
"Back for round two. Though... I didn't know I needed a reservation this time."
A shy smile played on her lips as she quietly dashed the tray in her hand on the table who asked for it and she walked towards him in slow but steady steps, eyes scanning everywhere but him, you could say she was shy.
But he didn't wait, he walked towards her.
Even before he reached her, heads began to turn.
A low ripple of whispers spread through the restaurant like a breeze. Phones subtly lifted. A few people tried to act casual, but it was obvious, they recognized him.
Jihoon wasn't just any customer. He had that face. The kind that made people pause. The kind they'd seen in magazines, on screens, in trending clips. And now, he was walking right through the center of the room like he didn't even notice the attention, eyes locked only on her.
Amara felt her chest tighten.
He moved with quiet confidence, effortlessly graceful, even as diners stole photos or nudged their friends under the table. Someone at the back actually gasped.
Jihoon smiled once, not for the cameras, but for her.
"Are you a celebrity or something?" Amara smiled shyly at him, holding the empty tray in one hand and the other on her hip.
"I don't know what you're talking about.." he said as he stretched his hand towards her face, tucking that single hair behind her ear, his finger brushed her face and she felt goosebumps for a second.
"Come let me help you" he walked past her but with her hand in his hand. "You look like you need some help right about now".
"I wouldn't dare let you serve food with a well tailored suit like yours." Amara blurted out, using her hand to dust off an invisible dust from his suit jacket.
"Ahjumma can I have one more plate of egusi?"
"dont call me ahjumma!" Amara yelled back in frustration as she walked back to the counter and as she heard Jihoon let out a laugh, she smiled.
"Give me that" he took the tray of egusi before she could even protest and walked to the table of customers, all eyes on him.
"Here's your order Abeoji" he placed the plate of food neatly on the table, about to leave with the tray.
"Oh my God, can you serve me too?" A feminine voice yelled from the middle of the restaurant and it followed with lots of voice yelling the same thing.
Cameras flashed, and hands were raised.
"I can't believe I'm seeing him so up close "
"Deh deh, I'll serve everyone" he chuckled walking back to the counter, where Amara and Mi na stood bewildered.
"Do not tell me you don't know who he is?" Mi na leaned into Amara's ear.
Her eyes widened so much it looked like they might pop right out of her head. "Wait, what? I literally can't believe this" Mi na gasped, nearly choking. "Jihoon as in Jihoon Jihoon? Tall, quiet, business-genius-heartthrob Jihoon? The guy every girl on campus has a Pinterest board dedicated to? That Jihoon?!"
"What are you talking about?" Amara looked over at Mi na whose mouth was still open in shock.
She leaned in across the table, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "Are you seriously telling me that you, sweet, introverted, foreign Amara are friends with the heir of the biggest company in Korea?"
"You wouldn't really call it friends, I ju..."
Then she gasped again, eyes even wider. "Do you like him? Does he like you? Oh my God, do you two have some secret love story brewing and you've just been keeping it from me like some K-drama plot twist?!"
Amara rolled her eyes and laughed, dishing pepper soup into a white bowl shaped plate.
Mi na placed both hands on her head in theatrical disbelief. "This is insane. I need a moment. No. I need receipts. How did this happen?!"
"How did you meet him? How are you..."
"Shhhh he's coming over here" Amara nudged her quietly without changing facial expression and looking right back at Jihoon.
"Are you some hot shot? Am I in the dark or something?" Amara asked him while carefully wiping the side of the plate.
"Am I the only one who doesn't know you for real?" She looked up at him this time.
"It's nothing serious I promise you, they are just overreacting" he chuckled while saying 'overreacting'.
Mi na gasped, Mi na actually gasped and she said in one breathe "hi my name is Kim Mi na, I'm Amara's best friend and assistant, please can I get an autograph?"
"What are you doing?" Amara nudged Mi na, looking over to her surprised and partly embarrassed.
"Nice to meet you Mi na, can the autograph wait? We need to serve people, that table needs three plates of afang, the one beside needs two plate of jollof" Amara held in her laugh at the way he pronounced Afang.
"Ah deh" Mi na squealed in happiness as she got the order ready.
"I can't believe this, I can't believe this" she whispered as she handed Jihoon the tray of jollof rice and they walked together to serve.
Amara chuckled as she stirred the pot of boiling of edikion soup "Mi na is crazy" she breathed out.
Mi na ran back to Amara who was at the counter cooking three pots of food at once, you could tell she was tired, but the orders kept coming in and she wondered if she could keel up.
Amara couldn't help but laugh at Mi Na's spiraling theories, the kind of laugh that bubbled from deep in her chest, the kind she hadn't felt in a while.
"Trust me," Amara said, balancing two plates in her hands, "it's not like that."
But just then, Jihoon appeared beside her, effortlessly carrying the tray from Amara's hand that was stacked with dishes, sleeves rolled up, and that calm, unreadable expression on his face.
"He's helping you serve food, this is definitely something." She whispered.
Jihoon glanced at Amara with a slight smirk, like he'd heard every word. "You needed help," he said simply.
Amara felt her cheeks warm, but she rolled her eyes playfully and nudged him with her elbow. "You're going to make people think I bribed you."
Jihoon just shrugged, then walked off to the next table.
Mi Na stared at her like she'd grown a halo and wings. "Girl, I don't know what this is, but I'm staying very close until I find out."
As the girls laughed and continued their work, the evening light stretched long and golden through the windows. Amara glanced once more at Jihoon, moving through the crowd with quiet confidence and something fluttered in her chest.
Whatever this was... it wasn't nothing.
And something told her—it was only just beginning.
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