Jiyeon crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, watching as Yura poured wine like she was conducting an art form. "You know," she said, "you could've helped more than just opening a bottle."
Yura's smirk widened as she swirled the liquid in her glass, her eyes locking on Jiyeon's. "I'm helping, emotionally. Someone has to make sure the vibe stays light around here. Otherwise, Kang might actually implode under the pressure of your expectations."
Kang, sprawled out on the nearby chair, groaned dramatically. "I've already imploded. I'm just here as a shell of my former self, thanks to both of you and this war zone you call a kitchen."
Jiyeon shot him a glance. "You've survived worse, Kang. Don't be so dramatic."
"Oh, really?" Kang sat up, feigning shock. "Worse than Yura trying to chop onions and setting off the fire alarm? Worse than you making us remake a dish five times because the truffle-to-lobster ratio wasn't 'elevated enough'?"
