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Sabi was starting to forget why she hated drinking in public. That was, until she found herself squished between Yiyoung and Namkyung, who swayed against her from both sides, nudging her playfully while singing along to a Hi Boyz song just to tease her.
How did she even end up in this situation?
It all started because she was pissed at Dr. Cha Dahye, the oh-so-busy senior who acted like she knew everything but clammed up whenever Sabi asked a question. The frustration had built up until it spilled over, and she decided she needed a drink to blow off some steam.
A terrible idea.
Sabi had the kind of alcohol tolerance that could be measured in sips. One beer and she was already seeing stars. So of course, once alcohol entered the picture, something embarrassing was inevitable. But of all the possible disasters, dancing flawlessly with Uhm Jaeil to one of his decade-old songs was her personal rock bottom.
Damn Cha Dahye. Damn beer. Damn Uhm Jaeil. She cursed them all silently. She had even pulled a full-on ending fairy, facing him with flushed cheeks and dramatic breathing like she was closing out Music Bank.
Now, as Yiyoung and Namkyung cackled on either side of her, she took it in silence. The only defense she could manage was blurting out ‘Whatever’ and ‘Knock it off.’
She barely managed to survive their teasing until they finally climbed into their taxis.
But the real challenge was just beginning: how to dodge Uhm Jaeil’s relentless questions about what went down in that room.
Her cab still hadn’t arrived, and judging by the expression on his face, it didn’t look like he planned to leave anytime soon.
“Why is it taking so long?” she asked, glancing around awkwardly. “Where’s yours?” she added, hoping the taxi topic was interesting enough to distract him.
“I haven’t called mine yet,” he said. “I’ll go once I’ve seen you off.”
Under different circumstances, Sabi might have thought that was sweet, but not now. Right now, it just made her want to disappear. Every second felt like she was a ticking embarrassment bomb ready to explode. She was silently begging him to forget everything that had happened half an hour ago.
But fate wasn’t on her side. The mischievous smile spreading across his face was a clear warning he wasn’t done teasing her yet.
Sabi felt her cheeks heat up as he asked if she secretly wanted him to perform Hi Boyz’s special fan greeting just for her. At that moment, she was definitely mentally drafting her resignation letter. In a last desperate attempt to deflate his ego, she blurted out that TopKey was her favorite instead of him, but of course, he didn’t believe her.
So when her taxi finally rolled up, she almost thanked the heavens for sparing her from further humiliation.
That gratitude lasted about two seconds.
As she reached for the door, Jaeil stepped forward, politely waved the driver away, and told him she didn’t need the ride anymore. Was he serious? She’d already paid for it.
That’s how Sabi found herself walking beside Jaeil, a warm snack in each of their hands offering some comfort against the crisp chill of mid-October.
“You sent my paid taxi away just so we could eat hotteok together?” Sabi asked, taking another bite of the sweet, syrupy pancake.
Jaeil shrugged, munching thoughtfully. “You know I don’t like eating alone. And after that beer, I suddenly craved something sweet. Funny enough, the craving hit me right after the girls left.”
“Also, stop bringing that up,” he added with an annoyed edge. “I already paid you back through KakaoPay.”
Their feet led them naturally to a nearby park, where they settled onto the closest bench to take in the cool night air for a moment. Sabi closed her eyes, grateful for the fresh breeze that cut through the lingering hospital scent of antiseptic.
“Yah.” Jaeil’s voice pulled her back to reality. She opened her eyes and turned to find his gaze fixed on her. Here we go again, she thought.
“I won’t tease you anymore,” he said, “but I’m genuinely curious. What was your reaction when you found out we were coworkers?”
Sabi hesitated, tempted to ignore the question and change the subject. But in that moment, caught in the quiet and the mood, maybe it wasn’t so bad to be honest. She silently blamed the damn beer for that.
"I kinda figured it out after seeing your name on the roster before orientation. It reminded me of those rumors fans used to spread about you going to med school," Sabi said, pausing with a small chuckle. "I mean, Uhm is already a pretty uncommon surname. What were the odds of another Uhm Jaeil showing up?"
Jaeil grinned. "And? How different did you find me? Am I more handsome now than I was at sixteen?"
When she didn’t answer and just stared at him, unimpressed, he let out an exaggerated sigh and pouted like a kicked puppy.
"Honestly, the reason I didn’t tell you wasn’t because I was embarrassed," Sabi said, her voice quieter and more grounded. That made Jaeil’s expression shift just slightly, to show he was listening.
"It’s just that I know how different people can be off-camera. I didn’t think it was fair to carry old impressions into something new. And I didn’t want you to treat me differently either, just because I used to admire you."
He stayed silent, watching her.
"That kind of imbalance would have made working together harder. I wanted us to start on equal footing to build something based on respect, not past admiration. I needed you to see me as your colleague first, not a fan wearing a white coat."
When she finished talking, she made eye contact with him. He didn’t speak beyond nodding, but she could see in his softened eyes something unspoken, respect, understanding, and maybe even a hint of gratitude.
Getting that kind of reaction from him made her feel oddly at ease. Maybe it was the warmth of the hotteok or the way the beer had softened her edges, but Sabi seemed more open now. She glanced at him, the corner of her mouth tugging upward in a small smile.
“Actually, I went to your fansign once,” she said, almost like it didn’t matter. “It was during your peak, so I doubt you remember. I even got a signed CD.”
Jaeil blinked. “Really?” He wasn’t sure if it was the dim park lighting or just his imagination, but he could’ve sworn her smile deepened for a second.
“And where is it now? Do you still have it?”
“No, I threw it away.” Her tone was flat, almost dismissive, but something in her expression flickered when she saw the confusion in his eyes. “Not because I wanted to. It’s just…”
She trailed off, as if weighing whether to say more. It wasn’t a secret exactly, not after what she’d let slip to the others during her hospital stay a few weeks back. Still, it wasn’t something she shared easily.
“My mom destroyed it. Along with all my posters. Said it was distracting me from preparing for college entrance exams.”
Jaeil’s expression shifted. The flinch was subtle, but she caught it.
“My brother got into med school that year, he ranked third nationwide on the CSAT. My mom was terrified I’d get sidetracked by you and ruin her second chance at a trophy kid, though a less valuable one.” Her voice held no bitterness, only the dull weight of a truth she’d carried too long.
“So I buried myself in textbooks. I thought if I worked harder, if I reached high enough, she’d start to see me. But she never came to any of my graduations. Not even when I ranked first in the national medical licensing exam.”
Sabi leaned back against the bench, arms stretched along the backrest, gaze fixed on the dark sky above. Her tone didn’t change.
“She found out I wanted to go into Obstetrics. That was the end of it. She said I was wasting my potential. Called it a dying field. ‘Who’s even having kids these days?’ That’s what she told me. Said I should’ve followed my brother and become a neurosurgeon instead.”
There was a bitter edge to her words now, a rare break in her usually even cadence. “We haven’t spoken much since. She doesn’t approve of the path I’ve chosen, but I’m not giving up on it.”
Jaeil’s voice softened. “Is that why you asked me to sign the guardian form for your surgery?”
She nodded, slowly.
“I didn’t want her there, scolding me while I was on a hospital bed. Telling me I failed her again. First for my career, then for my health.”
Jaeil’s throat tightened. “Sabi… I’m sorry.”
She glanced at him with a shrug, the kind that said she’d made peace with it a long time ago. “It’s alright. I’m not upset anymore. I love studying, and I love what I do. I used to be obsessed with coming first all the time, but I’m starting to realize life’s not a scoreboard. There’s more to it than keeping a perfect streak.”
She checked her watch and stood.
“I should go. I have rounds with Professor Jo tomorrow morning, and if I’m late, he’ll make sure I regret it for the rest of the year.”
Jaeil remained seated for a beat longer, watching her. There was something awe-inspiring about the way she could deliver such a raw story and then straighten her shoulders like it cost her nothing. When they first met, he’d thought she was cold, like a machine programmed for medicine and nothing more. But now he saw it more clearly, how someone raised with so little affection could still show up every day with so much care for others, and constantly try to become a better person.
“Are you not coming?” she called, already a few steps ahead.
“Hold on, Sabi-ya.” He stood up and moved to stand in front of her. He wanted to say something, anything, to ease what she’d shared, but she hadn’t lingered in the pain, and he didn’t want to force her to.
Instead, he smiled.
“Shall we catch the bus together?”
She rolled her eyes lightly and turned away, walking ahead without a word.
Jaeil followed, catching up to her stride.