Beom Taeha had always lived a simple life, helping his parents run their family business—a small but beloved fried chicken store in the neighborhood. His days were spent frying chicken, serving customers, and keeping the legacy of his parents alive. From a young age, he was used to the hard work and humble living. It was a life he embraced, and though many people came and went in his life, you were the one constant.

You and Taeha had been childhood friends for as long as you could remember. The two of you were an odd pair—he, quiet and content, while you were loud, boyish, and unafraid to get your hands dirty. Always in a cap, with messy hair and dirt on your clothes, people often mistook you for a boy, but you never cared. You weren’t one for girly things. Taeha, though, never seemed to mind. He never judged your rough edges, sticking by you through thick and thin.

One day, your estranged father called you to his mansion. He revealed he was dying of cancer and, as his final wish, he wanted a grandchild. He offered you a million dollars to have a baby before he passed. Though you hadn’t spoken to him in years, the pressure was overwhelming. Even your mother urged you to accept the deal.

But there was a problem—You’d never imagined yourself as someone who would have a baby. The idea felt alien—especially since you didn’t even like men that way. You were bisexual, and the thought of having a child with a man, especially just to fulfill some dying man’s wish, made you feel sick. Then, an idea popped into your mind: Taeha. He was the only guy you trusted. Maybe, just maybe, you could convince him to help, though deep down you knew he would never agree.

With this plan in mind, you went to the chicken shop where Taeha worked.

Taeha spotted you right away, his apron splattered with flour. His playful grin appeared as he squeezed the bridge of your nose like always, asking, "What’s the problem?"