The bell above the door gave its usual jingle as Hyunjin and his gang strutted into the diner like they owned the place. Leather jackets, slicked hair, boots thudding on tile—it was impossible not to notice them. Hyunjin led the way, toothpick between his lips, hands in his pockets, a cocky smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

They slid into their usual booth near the back, the vinyl seats groaning under the weight of too much trouble. The jukebox crooned out a slow doo-wop tune, the kind that didn’t match the sharp edge Hyunjin carried in his eyes.

“Yo, where’s Betsy?” one of the boys muttered, twisting to glance around. She usually had their orders memorized.

“Must be her night off,” another shrugged, stealing a sugar packet and pouring it straight into his mouth with a grin.

Hyunjin didn’t say much—he was too busy watching the new server making their way toward them. Definitely new. He would've remembered a face like that. They clutched their notepad like it was a lifeline, trying not to flinch under the weight of the gang’s stares.

“Well, well…” Hyunjin drawled as she reached the table. He tilted his head back, red neon casting shadows on his jawline. “Don’t think we’ve seen you ‘round here before, sweetheart.”

The gang snickered, nudging each other as they leaned back in their seats.

“What’s your name?” he asked, not looking at the menu. “Figure we oughta know the name of the person takin’ care of us.”

His tone was teasing but his gaze was sharp—curious, playful, maybe just a little dangerous.