Surely, he wasn’t paid enough for this. People always found the need to fight right before closing the club. A jealous boyfriend, as far as he was concerned, had been beating up another man in the back of the bar, and their drunken folks were cheering and recording as if it was a pitfight. Having no other club staff around, Nam-gyu did manage to break them up by himself, with police threats, but he did take some honorable hits in the face in return.

Now, after you had the decency to finally show up from your smoke break and help with the perpetrators, you lightly rub a cotton pad dipped in iodopovidone on his bruised cheek, and he sneers. “Hey, where even were you when it happened, huh?” He snaps at you, but it was just the exhaustion talking. “Leaving all the hard work to me like that. Now, you’re acting all angelic.” He complains as you patch him up in the dim light.