Even If the Café Disappears, We Continue

The late-spring chill seemed finally to have retreated, and the day felt pleasantly warm. On her way back to her studio apartment, Ji-eum stopped into a convenience store. A newly released corn-flavored ice cream caught her eye. She usually stuck to her usuals, but the cute yellow corn character somehow tugged at her.

Maybe I should try something new.

She stepped back out and was just about to tear open the yellow wrapper when her phone buzzed and rang. The screen showed a notification that Seung-jo had posted something on SNS. Out of habit, Ji-eum pressed the popup.

“This place….”

So he’d gone alone after all. Ji-eum quietly studied the café’s final appearance. The white mug she always used to drink from, the familiar interior in the background—none of it would ever be seen again.

She mulled over the caption Seung-jo had left beneath the photo, then murmured it aloud.

“We continue….”

If it was “we,” he must mean Seung-jo and me.

Whenever she managed to settle her heart into calm, a stone like this would sometimes come flying in and shatter the surface. Ripples spread.

Should I leave a comment or not?

Between friends, a comment should be fine, right? She hesitated, fingers hovering and tapping, when Kwon Beom-ju’s voice suddenly echoed in her ear.

“You said you’d forget.”

She had… said that, clearly.

Staring at the screen, Ji-eum deleted the comment she’d started.

Yeah. Forget it.

It was a public SNS account his girlfriend could see. Leaving her own trace under a caption that could look meaningful—“we continue”—might invite unnecessary misunderstanding. The thought arrived a little late.

Instead, she tapped the heart. Plenty of others had already liked it, so there was no pressure.

Even running into each other on SNS was becoming rare. Feeling empty about it had started to feel like a sin.

“Haa….”

To soothe her sinking mood she tugged at the corn ice-cream wrapper. At that exact moment the phone in her hand rang again.

The caller was Seung-jo.

Ji-eum froze for a second. Skipping a comment was one thing; ignoring an incoming call was harder. His name kept blinking on the screen. She took a deep breath, steadied her settled heart, and answered in a bright voice.

“Seung-jo!”

That soft, gentle voice, whenever she heard it, tickled her ear. Ji-eum tightened her grip on the ice cream. Like the slowly melting treat, her feelings for Seung-jo seemed to go soft again.

She realized too late that she shouldn’t have answered. The moment she heard his voice, the line she’d barely managed to draw began to crumble. Without meaning to, the corners of her mouth lifted and her chest fluttered.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s been a while.”

She slowed her steps toward the officetel, carefully muffling her footsteps so they wouldn’t interfere with the call.

What was he calling about? Until last year Seung-jo used to ramble about nothing in particular, but this time felt different. The long gap made her oddly nervous.

Cold sweat prickled at the added remark.

Ugh, Kwon Beom-ju!

“Huh? Uh, yeah, I was busy then so I sent it in a hurry….”

She stammered. Honestly, sending “nn” wasn’t some huge crime, but the silence afterward had been bothering her. Thankfully Seung-jo just said “Really?” and let it go lightly.

“I did. It’s already closed?”

The thick regret in his voice made her heart sway in turn. She didn’t let it show.

“Nah, it’s fine. What can you do…! There are plenty of cafés. And who knows? We might find an even better one.”

She said it, but the day they would find another place that belonged just to the two of them would probably never come. Seung-jo already had someone, and she herself was struggling to put distance between them because her feelings for him had grown too heavy. In a situation like this, new memories weren’t going to pile up.

Hiding her private emotions, Ji-eum changed the subject.

“Oh right, Seung-jo. Looking at the photo earlier—you bought that ring?”

She’d tossed it out casually, but she’d been curious. The sparkling ring in his picture looked familiar. It was the one they’d looked at together in a department store last Christmas.

“It’s so pretty. I’m gonna save up and buy this.”

“I like this one too. I’ll buy it for you. Let’s wear them together.”

“Why would you buy it? No thanks. I’m saving my part-time money and getting it next year. Just wait, ring.”

It had suited Seung-jo’s slender white fingers perfectly. So she didn’t feel bad that he’d bought it first.

“Why? What are you sorry for?”

His odd reaction made Ji-eum stop walking.

“Huh? With Hana?”

He’d matched that ring with Hana…?

The ground seemed to drop out from under her feet. It was clearly a ready-made piece anyone with money could buy. Her head knew that, yet her eyes stupidly stung.

Ji-eum forced the corners of her mouth up.

“Your girlfriend’s got good taste…! You’re already doing couple rings and dating well—it looks great, really… really.”

She strained to sound casual, but she was tense.

Did that tone just now sound natural? What should I say next? It was agony. While she struggled to pick her next words—

A suspicious shadow suddenly closed in. Then,

An ear-splitting howl exploded out of nowhere.

“Euh, euaaak!”

Startled, Ji-eum nearly dropped her phone. She whipped around toward the sound and found Kwon Beom-ju with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts, belting out that bizarre song—the one she’d played in the car that had terrorized their eardrums like a ghost.

“Ah, nothing….”

Beom-ju’s booming voice rolled out again.

Crazy…! What’s wrong with him, seriously!

Panicked, Ji-eum hastily cupped her hand over the phone.

“Can you be quiet for a second?”

She glared and shouted, but Beom-ju paid no attention and sidled even closer.

“Hey. Wanna hit a coin karaoke? My throat’s feeling pretty good today.”

“No, I’m on the phone right now….”

“I sing that song you played for me every damn day.”

Haa…. What the hell is this all of a sudden…. The tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes vanished; a headache rushed in instead. She felt ready to explode. Swallowing a sigh, Ji-eum put the phone back to her ear.

“Ah, sorry. Something just came up all of a sudden….”

“Uh, no. Seung-jo. Seung-jo….”

She called his name urgently, but the call had already ended.

“…….”

Ji-eum screwed up her face and glared hard at Beom-ju, who just stood there blankly.

“I told you I was on the phone, didn’t I? Why’d you interrupt?”

“Who were you talking to.”

“That’s….”

“Knew it. You were talking to that bastard, right?”

How did he know. Wait—did he do it on purpose….

“So are we going to karaoke or what.”

“Ah, seriously, what’s with you and karaoke? Did a ghost possess you?”

Ji-eum grimaced and shook her head. She was about to ignore him and walk off when a ballad drifted from behind her.

Something about a kid with slow steps…. How he should’ve walked more slowly….

Unlike the earlier mess of a voice, this time he was singing pretty well. His baritone made even a light delivery pleasant to hear.

Ji-eum stopped and listened for a moment.

Why does it sound so sweet all of a sudden….

“You’re doing fine by yourself. Why invite me along?”

“There’s a duet I wanna sing. Let’s make a legendary duet.”

“Legendary my ass….”

Ji-eum stared blankly at Kwon Beom-ju.

Yeah…. Maybe I should just sing. My mood’s already in the dumps.

It had been ages since she’d been to a karaoke room. Going with Beom-ju wasn’t exactly appealing, but there was no real reason to refuse either. She didn’t have to impress him, so it might actually be easier.

She narrowed her eyes and said firmly,

“Fine. Exactly thirty minutes, okay?”