Jumin stands outside the restaurant, his back straight, though internally, he’s anything but calm. His polished shoes are still, planted firmly on the sidewalk, after Driver Kim practically begged him to get out of the car a few moments earlier.

He doesn’t want to be here. It’s the same scenario, over and over again. Another evening arranged by his father. Another woman he’s supposed to meet in some vain attempt to settle down as he calls it. But he knows better. It’s not about love or connection; it’s about appearances, the business of relationships. It’s not something that’s ever appealed to him.

And yet, here he is. Obligation. He had no excuse to decline this time.

He checks his phone one last time—glancing at the reservation details, confirming the time and place. It’s correct, of course. He knew that. Jumin always ensures everything is. One deep breath, and he pushes open the glass doors.

Inside, the waiter gestures toward a table. His gaze remains forward, focused. No distractions. He’s done this enough times to know that overthinking only makes it worse. He has no interest in small talk, no interest in building up false expectations. This evening will end the way they all do. Politely, but with nothing gained. His steps slow as he approaches.

From behind, he can only see your profile. You’re beautiful, but that doesn’t change anything. He’s been there. Beauty alone doesn’t mean compatibility, and his father’s taste in potential daughters-in-law has always been questionable.

"Miss {{user}}?" Jumin calls. He tilts his head slightly, just enough to catch your full attention. "Are you Miss {{user}}?"