The alarm blared too early for Jiho's liking. He groaned, dragging himself out of bed and into his usual routine—shower, work uniform, coffee strong enough to keep him alive until noon. The walk to the café was quiet, sunlight spilling lazily over the campus grounds.
When Jiho pushed the door open, the smell of freshly brewed coffee already drifted out. Minseok was behind the counter, hair tied messily, wiping down mugs like she'd been at it for hours.
"You opened?" Jiho raised an eyebrow.
"Shocking, right? I can actually work too!" She teased.
Jiho shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself, before moving to set up the tables and chairs. He slipped trays of fresh pastries into the oven, the quiet hum of the café settling into its usual rhythm.
"Are you excited about this new person?" Minseok blurted out, leaning across the counter. "Imagine if it's a girl you actually think is hot."
"Unlikely," Jiho said flatly, wiping down tables. "I have standards. Unlike you."
"Yeah, a standard that can't even get you laid," Minseok shot back with a laugh.
Jiho froze mid-wipe, slowly turning his head to glare at her. "Do you want to keep this job?"
She only grinned wider. "Relax, oppa. I'm just saying—maybe you'll finally get a love life out of this interview."
Yeah, and he better be hot...
The soft chime of the front door broke the air. Jiho didn't bother looking up right away—probably just another early customer.
"Welcome—" Minseok began brightly, but her voice hitched halfway.
Jiho glanced up from the counter, rag still in hand. His stomach dropped. There he was. Kang Hyunwoo. Perfectly pressed blazer, posture like he owned the ground he walked on.
Jiho's grip tightened around the rag. You've got to be kidding me.
"Good morning," Hyunwoo said smoothly, eyes scanning the café before settling on Jiho. "I'm here for the interview."
For a beat, Jiho just stared at him. The rag in his hand was starting to twist under his grip.
"…Interview," Jiho repeated flatly, as if the word tasted sour in his mouth.
Minseok lit up, practically bouncing behind the counter. "Yes! Jiho oppa will handle it—he's the manager!"
Jiho shot her a look sharp enough to kill. Great. Just perfect.
"Just go wait at a table," Jiho said curtly, tossing the rag onto the counter. "I'll be there in two minutes."
Hyunwoo gave a small nod, unbothered, before gliding toward a corner table. As soon as his back was turned, Jiho leaned across the counter toward Minseok.
"Do you realise who that is?" Jiho muttered under his breath.
"Obviously," she whispered back, eyes wide. "That's Kang Hyunwoo. The student council president. If he works here, this café will be packed every day."
"This isn't a fan club."
"Doesn't matter. If he works here, customers will flood in."
Jiho grabbed the clipboard with a sigh. "Go check the pastries."
He straightened and crossed to the corner table, setting the clipboard down. "Alright. Let's start."
"Of course, Manager Seo," Hyunwoo said, the title rolling off his tongue like it amused him more than it should.
Jiho blinked. "…What the hell did you just call me?"
"Manager. Isn't that what you are?"
"Don't say it like that."
"Ah, then how should I say it?"
"Just… answer the questions."
"Of course." Hyunwoo folded his hands neatly on the table, posture impeccable. "Ask away."
Jiho glanced at the clipboard, but the words blurred for a second under Hyunwoo's steady gaze. He cleared his throat. "Why do you want to work here?"
Hyunwoo didn't hesitate. "Because I like the atmosphere. And because you're here."
"What?"
"Good management makes a good workplace. Don't you agree?"
"…Next question."
Minseok watched from behind the counter, noting every shift in their expressions. Jiho's rigid posture, Hyunwoo's effortless composure—the contrast was striking.
The interview wrapped quickly after that, Jiho scribbling the last notes before standing. Hyunwoo left without fuss, his presence lingering in the café long after the door closed behind him. As he passed through the doorway, Minseok caught the faintest murmur—"asshole." Her brow twitched, but she let it slide, pretending she hadn't heard.
Jiho dropped the clipboard onto the counter, shoulders tense, as though the simple interview had drained him more than a full shift ever could. Minseok only shook her head, amused, while the smell of coffee hung heavy in the quiet space.
"That guy's so exhausting..." Jiho grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Minseok glanced over from the espresso machine, lips twitching like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, she busied herself with wiping down the counter, the cloth gliding in neat, practiced circles.The steady sound of her work filled the silence. Jiho exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the lingering weight of the interview. His hands moved automatically—stacking cups, checking the register, anything to distract himself.
A bell chimed as a pair of students wandered in, yawning and muttering about early labs. Jiho straightened, slipping back into routine with a clipped, "What can I get for you?" Orders, change, receipts. Easy, mechanical.
Hours passed like that—customers trickling in, Minseok humming along with the café playlist, and Jiho trying not to think about the way Hyunwoo's smile still felt etched behind his eyes. He hated how it stuck with him, no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it.
By the time the last table was cleared and the ovens cooled, the sun was already dipping low, casting long shadows across the café floor. Minseok yawned, tying her hair up tighter as she stacked the final tray.
"Another day, Jiho," she said lightly, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Jiho only nodded, locking the register before turning off the lights. The café settled into silence, the faint smell of coffee and baked bread lingering in the air. When he finally stepped outside, the cool evening breeze cut through his uniform.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and started the walk home.
The dormitory was already buzzing by the time Jiho got back—doors slamming, voices carrying down the narrow halls, someone blasting music a little too loud for a weeknight. He ignored it all, heading down, weaving past until he reached his room at the very end.
The door clicked shut behind him, muting the chaos. Jiho dropped his bag onto the desk chair and collapsed onto his bed, still in uniform. The ceiling stared back at him, blank and merciless.
I hate this dude. Jiho pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes. Out of a whole campus full of jobless students, he's the one that shows up for the interview?
He let out a dry laugh, more bitter than amused, before rolling onto his side. Too late to study, too early to sleep. The faint smell of coffee still clung to his clothes, a reminder of the day he'd rather forget. With a grunt, he pulled the blanket over his head, trying to will the thought of work away.