The streets of Gangnam were alive with a kind of energy Hana could only describe as sophisticated chaos. Glass-walled skyscrapers glinted in the late afternoon sun, their facades reflecting the hurried movements of polished professionals and carefree shoppers below. The neighborhood exuded wealth, ambition, and the unspoken promise of success.
Hana adjusted the strap of her bag, following her friends toward a café they had read about online. It was a quiet oasis tucked amidst the urban jungle, famous for its rooftop view of the city.
"I'll grab us a table," Lila said, already darting inside.
"I need coffee. Strong coffee," Ananya declared, joining her.
Izzy stayed behind with Hana, looking amused. "You're distracted," she said, observing Hana's furrowed brow.
"Just thinking," Hana admitted. "This place reminds me of home... but it's different."
Izzy smirked. "Well, don't overthink. Let's go grab something."
Hana nodded and stepped inside the café. The soothing hum of conversation and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped her. She approached the counter, scanning the menu written in Hangul and English.
"Do you need help?" a deep, smooth voice interrupted her thoughts.
Hana turned to see a man standing beside her. He was tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit that looked both expensive and effortless. His sharp features were softened by a calm yet enigmatic expression.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," Hana replied, slightly flustered.
"Are you?" he asked, his tone polite but slightly amused. His gaze flicked to the menu. "You've been standing here for a while."
Hana bristled, suddenly self-conscious. "I was deciding."
His lips curved into the faintest smile. "Of course." He stepped forward and spoke to the barista in fluid Korean, ordering an Americano.
Hana turned back to the menu, determined to ignore him. But his presence was magnetic, making it difficult to focus. When she finally placed her order, she felt his eyes on her again.
"You're not from here," he said casually, as if it were an observation rather than a question.
"I'm Korean-American," Hana replied, her tone sharper than she intended.
He raised an eyebrow, sensing her defensiveness. "Ah, I see. Welcome to Seoul."
"Thank you," she said curtly, moving aside to wait for her drink.
The man received his order first, the barista addressing him with a respectful bow. He nodded, then glanced at Hana one last time. "Enjoy your stay," he said, his voice holding a hint of mystery as he walked away.
Back at the table, Hana tried to shake off the encounter, but her friends immediately noticed her distracted demeanor.
"Okay, spill," Lila said, leaning forward. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Hana said quickly, sipping her latte.
"Liar," Ananya chimed in. "Your ears are literally red. Who was he?"
"Just... some guy," Hana muttered, her gaze drifting to the window.
But as luck would have it—or perhaps fate—her "some guy" appeared again. Outside the café, the man was now surrounded by a small group of sharply dressed individuals. His demeanor was calm yet commanding, and it was clear he was giving instructions.
"That's him," Hana said before she could stop herself.
Lila turned to look and gasped. "Okay, who is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?"
"No idea," Hana admitted.
"He looks important," Izzy noted, her tone analytical. "The way they're all listening to him—it's like he's their boss."
As they watched, the man glanced toward the café and met Hana's gaze through the glass. For a brief moment, the world seemed to pause. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he turned and walked away.
"Okay, you have to find out who he is," Ananya said, her eyes wide.
Hana shook her head. "Why? It's not like I'm going to see him again."
But life, as it often does, had other plans.
That evening, the girls decided to explore Gangnam further, venturing into a high-end shopping mall that glittered with luxury brands and chic boutiques. Hana wandered ahead, drawn to a bookstore tucked into a corner.
As she browsed through the aisles, she heard familiar voices nearby.
"You should reconsider the terms," one voice said, calm but firm.
"I'll think about it," another replied, hesitant.
Hana turned the corner and froze. There he was—the man from the café—standing with another man in an expensive suit. They were deep in conversation, their tones low but intense.
She knew she should walk away, but her curiosity rooted her to the spot.
"You always think too long," the man said with a faint smirk. "That's why you lose."
The other man sighed in frustration, then noticed Hana standing nearby. His gaze flicked to her, and the conversation stopped abruptly.
The man from the café followed his companion's line of sight and turned to Hana.
"You again," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
Hana's cheeks flushed. "I wasn't... I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
"Of course not," he said smoothly.
His companion excused himself, leaving them alone. The man stepped closer, his presence filling the small aisle.
"Do you always find yourself in the middle of other people's business?" he asked, his tone teasing but not unkind.
"Only when they happen to be standing in my way," Hana shot back, surprised at her own boldness.
His lips twitched, as if suppressing a smile. "Fair enough."
"Who are you, anyway?" she asked, crossing her arms.
For a moment, he simply studied her, as though deciding how much to reveal.
"Kim Jihoon," he said finally. "And you?"
"Hana Choi," she replied.
"Well, Hana Choi," he said, his tone thoughtful. "It seems our paths keep crossing."
"Pure coincidence," she said quickly.
"Perhaps," he agreed, but the glint in his eyes suggested he thought otherwise.
Before she could respond, Jihoon's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting to one of quiet urgency.
"Until next time," he said, his tone confident, as though their meeting was inevitable.
And just like that, he was gone, leaving Hana with more questions than answers.
Later that night, back at the hanok, Hana replayed the encounters in her mind. Who was Kim Jihoon? Why did he seem so familiar, yet so enigmatic?
Her friends bombarded her with questions when she shared the story, but even their wild theories couldn't explain the magnetic pull she felt toward him.
One thing was certain: Kim Jihoon wasn't just "some guy." And Hana couldn't help but wonder what role he would play in her summer in Seoul.