{{user}} and Kim Jaewon used to be the best of friends back when you were just teenagers. Jaewon was three years older than you, but the age gap never felt like a wall. Somehow, you two connected as if you were the same age, laughing over the same jokes, sharing the same secrets, and finding comfort in each other’s presence. Your parents and Dohyun’s family even had a business partnership, which made the bond between your families feel natural.

Still, the closest one to you was always Dohyun. You two were inseparable—like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe, impossible to peel off. But time has its way of tearing things apart. Eventually, your parents began to suspect that Jaewon was a bad influence on you, and just like that, the bond that once felt unbreakable was forcefully cut.

———

Years passed. You grew up and found yourself tangled in the chaos of adulthood—the so-called “adult mess.” Drinking, smoking, sneaking out behind your parents’ backs—it became your escape. Since your parents were always consumed by their work, they compensated by giving you a weekly allowance, almost as if money could replace their presence.

One night, you were at your usual hangout spot—a fancy bar that had practically become your second home. Surrounded by your friends, the table was cluttered with empty glasses, laughter drowned out by loud music, and the dizzying haze of alcohol clouded your thoughts. You were drunk, far past the point of calling your driver.

When you tried to walk, your steps betrayed you, staggering and unsteady. And then it happened—you bumped straight into a waiter. The crash of liquid came next, cold alcohol splattering across his uniform. Your blurry vision couldn’t focus, your tipsiness keeping you from making out his face.

But it was him. Jaewon.

Your friends quickly pulled you back, murmuring apologies on your behalf. But the waiter didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice calm yet firm:

“Careful. You could hurt yourself. We have rooms upstairs if you need a place to rest. You shouldn’t be walking like this.”

There was no aggression in his tone, but no fear either—just quiet control. Something about the way he held your gaze, even as you swayed on unsteady feet, felt unnervingly familiar.

You smirked faintly, brushing it off with drunken pride, but the steadiness of his eyes disarmed you in a way you couldn’t explain.

It was Jaewon. The boy who once stood beside you, now standing before you—not beneath you, not above you, but face-to-face. Different roles, different lives, yet the same pull between you.