Chapter Text
Today definitely hadn’t gone as planned.
Hwang In-ho glanced at the watch on his wrist: “7:15 p.m.” It was one of those stressful, work-filled days. His whole day had been an endless stream of meetings and negotiations.
“Another day, just the same.”
He let out a sigh before disabling airplane mode on his phone. As soon as he did, it started vibrating nonstop as he checked the most recent notifications.
“Congratulations on your new contract, In-ho!”
“How did you get Mr. ***** to accept such a risky deal? Either way, well done!”
“Don’t forget the family lunch on the 20th of this month.”
“Will you need help?”
More and more meaningless notifications quickly invaded his inbox. In-ho just skimmed through them with a distracted expression, showing no real interest.
The contract he had signed that day was one of the most important of the quarter, a move that once again placed him at the top of his sector. But as always, the thrill he felt after completing it simply vanished as fast as it came.
He leaned back in his chair, looking at the city skyline through his office windows. It was a beautiful, even enviable view, but to him, it was something common, almost mundane.
He hadn’t been in this industry for long, but with some connections, his effort, and hard work, he had reached a good position in his company. However, at some point, everything started to feel the same.
Too normal.
“Maybe I should go out tonight,” he thought while toying with the tie still hanging around his neck. Maybe a club, a good bottle of wine, perhaps a companion charming enough to keep him entertained for a few hours.
However, the idea felt empty. Everything always seemed to follow the same pattern: success, routine, and loneliness—the same sequence, day after day.
Hwang sighed more deeply, massaging his forehead.
Just before placing his phone on the table, a new vibration interrupted him. He picked it up, staring at the sender’s name. An old acquaintance.
He gave the message a quick glance and chuckled; a smile curved on his face with a spark of interest.
An old acquaintance and a job for him.
“Interesting.”
The message was clear—an invitation to the Gangnam club, sent by an old acquaintance from his previous job and, apparently, a potential client.
It was now “8:25 p.m.” In the end, his initial plan was completely discarded. Going to a club when he had such an important invitation… It didn’t feel right.
After leaving the office, his decision changed. He decided to deviate from his original plan. Instead of going to the club, he opted for a stop at Sangsu station—more specifically, the Szimpatikus bar and restaurant.
Mainly known for its fine dining and good drinks, nothing out of the ordinary.
The interior of the bar was cozy and had a beautiful view. The lighting was a mix of warm and cool tones, creating a pleasant contrast.
The hum of people around him was constant. Tourists with their phones taking pictures and people on dates filled the establishment, but he didn’t really care.
His attention was more focused on what he was reading on his tablet—a recently sent file. The document contained twenty pages, each with different names and a brief description of their lives.
He frowned slightly at the amount of information. He wasn’t a fan of “reading” so much, which was ironic—his job was all about reading all kinds of documents.
He sighed and glanced at his wrist.
“8:39 p.m.”
His meeting was at 10:00 p.m. There was still almost an hour and a half left, and he was starting to feel “anxious” in the restaurant. The laughter, the background conversations, and the general noise kept him from concentrating fully on the document.
Everything around him seemed so cheerful, but that wasn’t what “bothered” him; it was more about the feeling it stirred—a terrible sense of dissatisfaction.
He let out a huff, setting the tablet aside and turning it off. His gaze wandered through the restaurant and the people around him while he slowly sipped his wine. All his senses were drawn to the couples, families, and groups of friends in the place.
They all looked happy, filled with warmth and enthusiasm that seemed to float in the air.
He felt his chest tighten. The wine tasted sweet, but it didn’t calm him; instead, it left a bitter aftertaste in his throat. Every sound and laugh made the lump in his throat grow, like an abyss expanding inside him.
Despite everything, he kept his expression blank. He looked at his wrist again.
“8:50 p.m.”
He had to leave. He still had an hour left to review the document.
He was going to take a taxi.
—
The cold night air brushed against his skin as he waited next to the taxi. Sangsu, with its soft lighting and characteristic quietness, felt almost unreal. It wasn’t a place he frequented, but he didn’t dislike it.
The vehicle that caught his attention was parked at a taxi stand, but it was empty, as if the driver had decided to abandon it. In-ho felt slightly annoyed.
“What good is a taxi if there’s no one to drive it?” he thought, adjusting his coat over his shoulders.
He was about to turn away when he saw him.
A man in a hurry, holding a paper bag, walking directly toward him. He had an expression of guilt and relief, as if he feared In-ho would leave.
—Good evening, sorry for not being here. Do you need a ride somewhere? —he asked with an improvised smile, though it didn’t seem forced.
In-ho observed him silently for a few seconds. The man wasn’t particularly special, not even imposing. He was a bit taller than him, had messy hair, a jacket that probably didn’t protect him well from the cold, and eyes marked by a long day’s fatigue.
Still, something caught his attention: the genuinely apologetic way he spoke. That alone stopped him from walking away.
“Pleasant.”
—Your taxi was just sitting there, no driver. I thought it was out of service —he replied, keeping a neutral, almost cold tone.
The driver lifted the paper bag with an awkward gesture, embarrassed, like a child caught red-handed.
—I went to get some food. I’m really sorry for making you wait. —The bow that followed his words seemed genuine, though unnecessary.
In-ho raised an eyebrow. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time someone apologized so sincerely for something so minor.
—Can you take me to the Yeouido commercial district? —he finally asked, watching as the man straightened up and smiled, as if he had just received good news.
—Of course! —he replied enthusiastically.
As the driver hurried to open the taxi door, In-ho studied him. Something about him intrigued him; his movements were fluid, slightly clumsy at times—perhaps from the exhaustion he seemed to carry.
There was something curious about this man—maybe his easy, humble smile that seemed so distant from the world around him. An ordinary man.
“Ordinary.”
-
His original plan was never to get off at Yeouido—it was simply a way to kill time, somewhere that wasn’t his apartment, a bar, or a restaurant.
He didn’t want to see or hear murmurs and unfamiliar voices. All they would do was distract him from his tablet.
A taxi seat wasn’t the best place to kill time either, but he wasn’t picky enough to say it was worse than being in more crowded spots.
His worst decision would have been staying in his lonely apartment.
His eyes studied the information on the screen, memorizing it. Music filled the air, a cheerful yet calm song that contrasted with the constant noise inside his head.
The driver, however, did not go unnoticed.
From the moment he saw him approaching, he had noticed. It was hard not to. The man had something in his expression—maybe exhaustion or warmth—that left him unsettled...
He shifted in his seat. In-ho tried to ignore him, focusing on the information on the screen. But from time to time, his gaze drifted toward the rearview mirror, meeting the driver's.
He seemed to want to avoid eye contact, as if it made him uncomfortable.
“Typical.”
He decided not to give it much thought. He knew that, based on his appearance, the guy probably thought he was some shady figure, maybe even a gangster.
He let out a huff at the thought. Still, the way he behaved intrigued him: the way his eyes reflected endless fatigue, the slight tremble of his steady hands on the wheel, and the automatic smile he gave when In-ho said his name, though his tone always remained polite, tinged with weariness.
It was an interesting contrast.
Most taxi drivers In-ho had dealt with were completely different from Gi-hun. They were efficient but overly professional. Gi-hun, on the other hand? He felt genuine, made an effort to seem professional, though he didn’t quite succeed at it.
Even his name echoed with a simplicity that was almost endearing, much like the man himself.
In-ho let out a barely audible chuckle, his eyes returning to the information he was trying to study, though his focus was no longer fully on it.
Gi-hun had caught his attention, and he could no longer deny it.
The trip definitely wouldn’t be a short one.
“Someone like him—you don’t find that every day.”
“9:28 p.m.”
“Why did we get to this point?”
“Do I really not want to let him go?”
—
When the gun was pointed at Gi-hun, he understood.
Gi-hun’s gaze shifted from false courage to absolute terror—impossible to ignore.
They had arrived at Yeouido, and his plan had gone off the rails when the driver refused to go along with the deal voluntarily. He had to resort to more questionable, dangerous methods.
Gi-hun quickly turned away, avoiding his eyes, his breathing erratic. He even seemed like he might faint at any moment.
“That would be a problem if it happened.”
He scanned the area in silence, keeping the gun within reach in case something went wrong. Yeouido was eerily calm—almost unreal. He had been there for work just days before, and noticing the drastic change from day to night struck him as both interesting and unsettling.
The lights were cold, illuminating everything too brightly—uncomfortable to the eyes, yet oddly soothing.
His attention shifted when he heard Gi-hun’s weak voice.
He smiled slightly before replying in a calm tone.
—
The ride had been “peaceful,” if you could call it that. Gi-hun and he hadn’t exchanged a single word the entire time.
His focus was no longer on the road or the document. It was on the taxi driver, Gi-hun.
The tension in his body, the trembling in his hands, his slightly labored breathing, and his attempt to ignore his presence—In-ho found it all captivating. He let out a quiet sigh, keeping the gun resting on his lap, always within reach in case of trouble.
They were getting closer to the club, the district buildings coming into view—imposing. One turn on the road and the city lights reappeared along with a crowd of people.
People coming out of bars, restaurants, and shops.
The meeting was about to end.
“Disappointing.”
Before they arrived at the place, In-ho spoke.
—Do you know what you’re going to do after this? —His tone was calm, almost monotone.
He heard Gi-hun’s teeth grind slightly before he responded, as if trying to avoid answering.
—I’ll go on with my life. What else would I do?
“Oh…”
Something stirred inside him, creating an unpleasant sensation. Gi-hun’s response made sense, sure—but he couldn’t help the bitter feeling it triggered.
Gi-hun had captured his attention—his smile, his attitude, and his humility were, in a way, charming. Something about him awakened vague memories of someone he once knew. Maybe it was that smile or that strange humility that seemed so genuine.
Their beginning hadn’t been ideal; in fact, Gi-hun probably wouldn’t want to see him again after tonight.
He understood that.
He didn’t respond, letting the tension grow thick, suffocating, making In-ho consider taking a risky path. The distant sound of electronic music filled his ears—they had arrived at the club.
One more step to push him away. He had made his decision.
In-ho was sure he’d regret his decision later, but he refused to let the taxi driver go.
—Come on, we have to go in.
Gi-hun’s face went from anger and frustration to resignation when he said those words—he even shouted at one point.
He felt sorry for him.
He briefly reconsidered his decision, but letting him go just like that would be like releasing something that, for reasons he couldn’t understand, had managed to change his routine.
Letting him go now would be disappointing, especially when he had already accepted.
He looked at his watch: “10:14 p.m.”
He was late.
-
Gi-hun spent most of the time alone at the bar, his slightly disheveled figure standing out in the place. When they had arrived at the lounge to meet the "client", In-ho had sent him to the mini bar to avoid any unnecessary questions from his acquaintance—he knew exactly how curious the man could be.
Keeping Gi-hun apart was the best option.
The mini bar was a good spot to keep an eye on him. He noticed how he tried to strike up a conversation with the bartender, failing in the process. His clumsiness somehow brought a faint smile to his face.
Even while paying attention to what the client was saying, he occasionally drifted off to observe Gi-hun and his body language—slouched shoulders, barely stifled yawns, and slow movements that screamed pure, evident exhaustion. It was past midnight, and he was sure that if Gi-hun’s day had been heavy, it wouldn’t take long for him to fall asleep in some corner.
His gaze didn’t leave Gi-hun until he heard the client’s voice.
He looked at him, a playful smile spreading across his face.
—Who's your new friend, In-ho? —he asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward the bar, clearly making his point. His voice was laced with barely concealed interest.
In-ho barely glanced away from the glass he was holding.
—He’s my driver.
—Driver? —he repeated, already grinning with a hint of mockery or provocation. He paused before adding, amused— He doesn’t look like a private driver, more like a cabbie.
In-ho pressed his lips together, holding back a sigh before replying.
—What does it matter?
—Of course it matters —the client’s tone shifted slightly, his mockery now more obvious, but with something else beneath it: interest.
—Why, Gong Yoo?
His smile widened, as if about to start a game that probably wouldn’t end well.
—He’s cute.
In-ho felt the words hit him unexpectedly. He frowned, not quite understanding what Gong had just said.
—What…?
Gong Yoo let out a laugh before replying —Come on! Don’t look at me like that. It’s a compliment for your companion... He has a— Gong turned his body slightly to look at Gi-hun again, then gestured toward him and locked eyes with In-ho —He has a nice vibe, and also the kind of face that doesn’t realize how attractive it is.
In-ho stared at him in disbelief, his gaze drifting back to Gi-hun, who was currently fighting to stay awake.
—He’s just my driver, Gong Yoo. Don’t read too much into it.
Gong Yoo stayed silent, but his expression showed amusement, and his smile was even worse.
They dropped the topic, but the words Gong had said about Gi-hun lingered, like an echo repeating over and over.
“He’s cute.”
—
The view was… Interesting?
His attention was fixed on a somewhat familiar figure standing next to Gi-hun. At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
The man in a grey suit and glasses was watching Gi-hun too intently, as if he had known him for a long time.
In-ho had seen him before, though he couldn’t recall exactly where. Maybe at a meeting or a conference, maybe one of those endless work dinners his job required.
He recognized him from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place it.
That didn’t explain why the guy seemed to know Gi-hun. Were they friends? It didn’t matter now—but the sudden change in Gi-hun’s body language and expression said a lot. It was as if all the air had left his body, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.
He didn’t need to hear the conversation to understand the impact of that encounter—Gi-hun’s body language said it all.
His gaze sharpened as the stranger stepped closer to Gi-hun.
He sat beside him and gave him a few pats on the back, while Gi-hun clearly looked uncomfortable.
In-ho felt a sudden urge to intervene.
—Why does it seem like you’re not paying attention to me?
Gong Yoo looked at him with indifference, as if he knew exactly where his attention was. His head turned slightly to observe Gi-hun and the stranger, a smug smile growing on his lips before turning back to In-ho.
He had noticed it too.
—Looks like your chauffeur found some company. —His eyes stared at him intently, waiting to see a reaction or action.— Think they know each other?
In-ho frowned before glancing again at his acquaintance. —I don’t know.
—You don’t know? —Gong’s smile grew wider.
—No, I don’t know. Is that a problem? —In-ho’s patience was running thinner with every word the idiot in front of him spoke.
—I don’t have a problem, but it looks like you do. —Gong dropped his gaze to the document he had been explaining minutes earlier, but instead of going on with the explanation, he sighed and looked back up, his expression now laced with a well-hidden concern.
—You know, In-ho? I don’t want to get involved in your “new” life, or however you’re going to rebuild it after the incident, but remember how things ended the last time you did this. —He lifted the document and pointed at a word.
“Commitment.”
In-ho’s whole body tensed as he looked at the word. He clenched his jaw tighter, and his eyes showed that his patience had completely run out. —Don’t compare this to that. He’ll just be a tool. Nothing more.
Gong let out a dry, brief laugh.
—Seriously? What was the last thing you said back then? —Gong gestured dismissively, then raised his hand suddenly.— Oh, right, you said the same thing. And how did it end? In a commitment that ended horribly.
Gong’s expression darkened as he continued. —With you abandoning your position at the agency, and your fiancée dead. And how did it all start? Exactly—with you involving her in one of your jobs.
In-ho felt a knot in his throat with every word that came out of Gong’s mouth. The anger dissipated for a moment, turning into sorrow, before he looked at his companion with a sharp gaze. His fists clenched and his breathing grew slightly irregular.
Gong had touched a nerve he shouldn’t have touched in the first place.
—You have no right to mention her. —his voice was filled with anger, his eyes fixed on Gong’s calm stare. —We’ve only known each other for a few hours. That doesn’t mean I want a life with him.
Gong tilted his head slightly, studying every word before replying. —You’re interested in him. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known each other. This is a bad pattern, In-ho. One you’ve already repeated. You get attached, you get involved, and then fate does its thing—and not in a pretty way. —Gong sighed before continuing. —If you’re really going to follow through with this job, don’t involve your taxi driver. You’ll only end up getting him… killed.
Gong averted his eyes and turned back to the document in his hand, speaking again after a few minutes.
—Keep in mind this is your first job after almost four years of retirement from us. In my opinion, you shouldn’t be involving anyone.
In-ho looked at him—he was right, which only worsened his anger and frustration. The last time he got emotionally involved with someone, things ended in the worst possible way. His eyes returned to Gi-hun, noticing how he still looked uncomfortable but was now talking to the man. It hadn’t been his intention to involve him in this job; in fact, he had considered letting him go.
But something about him—some feeling he couldn’t ignore—made him doubt that decision.
He felt the weight of Gong Yoo’s words hit him hard.
—So, In-ho, are you going to take this job or not? —
“Shut up.”