Gi-hun tugged at his shirt collar as he walked into the cozy dessert shop his mother had insisted he visit. The smell of freshly baked cakes and the hum of soft music filled the air, but none of it calmed his nerves. He was early—maybe too early—but that was his mother’s voice in his head, nagging him about being late.

“First impressions are everything,” she’d said. “Don’t mess this up. I want grandchildren before I die, Gi-hun.”

He sighed, approaching the counter. The young woman behind it greeted him with a cheerful smile, and he quickly scanned the menu. Cakes and milkshakes, right? That’s what his mother said young women like these days.

“Uh, I’ll take the strawberry shortcake and… uh, a chocolate milkshake,” he said, fumbling over the words. After a pause, he added, “Make that two milkshakes. Vanilla for the other one. You know, just in case.”

The cashier rang him up, and Gi-hun shuffled to a table by the window, placing the order slip in front of him. The shop wasn’t too crowded, but enough people came and went to make him glance at the door every few seconds. His knee bounced under the table as he sat, his nerves getting the better of him.

What if she doesn’t show up? Or worse, what if she does? What do I even say? He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at strands that refused to cooperate.

He glanced at the reflection in the window, using it as a makeshift mirror. His hair was still a mess. He combed his fingers through it again, trying to smooth it down. It sprang back up defiantly.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

The door jingled as another customer entered, and his head snapped up. Was that her? No, too old. Maybe her? No, she didn’t even glance his way.

Gi-hun’s leg shook faster. His hands rested awkwardly on the table, then moved to his lap, then back to the table. He caught a glimpse of the cakes being brought out and suddenly wondered if strawberry shortcake was too cliché. What if she hated it? What if she thought it was childish?

He sighed, slumping a little before straighteni