By Zephyria 
“Shall we prepare the wine right away, or when the meal begins?”
Han Joo-young eagerly stepped in to answer the manager’s question.
“Shall we open it now and start drinking? It might taste even better by the time the main course comes if it has some breathing time.”
Corkage, ratatouille, breathing.
Did he have to listen to such difficult words just to eat? Song Hyun-soo felt exhausted, having only just finished ordering. He wished he could just have a cold draft beer. Why an Italian restaurant of all places? If it were a cocktail bar, he could have shown off to Han Joo-young to his heart’s content.
Wine, which he didn’t know much about and hadn’t tasted often, was poured into his glass. Song Hyun-soo tried to match the atmosphere by observing what the others were doing. Han Joo-young smelled the wine before swirling it, and smelled it again after swirling. In contrast, Yoon Joo-ho swirled his glass a couple of times, took a brief sniff, and immediately let the wine flow into his mouth.
“What did everyone do for Christmas? Senior, you must have been busy?”
Shin Hyo-jin asked Yoon Joo-ho first, putting down her glass.
“It passed by in a blur of making appearances here and there. It was tough, visiting four or five places a day.”
As if the fatigue still lingered, Yoon Joo-ho rubbed the area above his eyes.
“I’m sure you were. How many invitations must you have received? It felt like just another workday for me too.”
“Right. Just work.”
Yoon Joo-ho pressed the base of his glass on the table with his fingertip and swirled the glass in place. The red wine slowly swirled in the transparent glass, creating a vortex.
He had no interest in wine, which wasn’t used in cocktails, but Yoon Joo-ho’s skillful swirling kept drawing his eye.
Like the whistling of older brothers when he was young, like the flashy finger snaps. He felt a desire to imitate it.
“What about you, Hyun-soo?”
“Yes?”
Song Hyun-soo, who had been admiring Yoon Joo-ho’s hands on the table, looked up at Shin Hyo-jin’s question directed at him.
“Since you’re the youngest among us, you must have done something fun.”
“You probably had a wild party all night! Or maybe a romantic time alone with your girlfriend.”
Han Joo-young also eagerly prompted Song Hyun-soo for his answer.
“I just drank with the colleagues I work with at my place.”
“Your girlfriend?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
He could have stopped there, but after glancing at Yoon Joo-ho beside him, Song Hyun-soo added for emphasis, driving the point home.
“It’s been quite a while since I’ve been without a girlfriend.”
“Ah…”
“Still, I splurged and bought a bottle of whiskey, grilled some pork belly, and ate cake. I had a good day.”
He had taken photos wearing the Rudolph headband and Santa hat that Chae-young had prepared, and he had even made a fool of himself trying to take a picture of the Christmas tree on the rooftop with the sparklers Jung-ho had prepared.
He had been curious, wondering what Yoon Joo-ho was doing on Christmas, even pretending to work part-time. But thanks to those guys, he had laughed and had a great time.
“Right… Hanging out with friends is the most fun when you’re in your twenties.”
The whiskey, pork belly, and cake he had splurged on.
It might have seemed like a trivial Christmas to Han Joo-young, who wouldn’t quite understand, but it didn’t matter. He knew that Han Joo-young’s reaction wasn’t due to dismissal, but rather a bewildered unfamiliarity with a world he didn’t know.
“My skin has gotten completely ruined from going out and drinking all the time. It gets like this every year-end.”
Shin Hyo-jin, patting her cheeks as if upset, leaned her upper body towards Yoon Joo-ho.
“Senior, where do you go for dermatology treatments?”
“……”
“I’ve been going to a place my company introduced me to, but I think I need to switch. They just keep pushing various things.”
Yoon Joo-ho shrugged and brought his wine glass to his lips.
“It’s a trade secret.”
“Tsk…” Han Joo-young’s gaze shifted to Song Hyun-soo.
“Hyun-soo, your skin is also amazing.”
“Me?”
Song Hyun-soo rubbed his cheek with his palm.
“Not a single blackhead on your nose. Your pores are so tight. What did you do? PDT laser? Pore injection? Neither worked for me. Let’s share dermatology clinics.”
“I don’t go to a specific dermatology clinic. I occasionally use face masks, though. I stock up when they’re on sale at Olive Young.”
Song Hyun-soo gave a thumbs-up and grinned. Shin Hyo-jin, however, looked serious.
“Isn’t your company not taking good care of you? I should say something.”
“Actually, I don’t have a separate company.”
“A one-person agency? That’s cool, Hyun-soo.”
“No. It’s nothing that grand. I just work without a company.”
“You drive yourself around too? It must be so tiring.”
“I don’t have a car yet…”
He hadn’t intended to, but just by stating the facts, the atmosphere was becoming increasingly awkward. He was grateful for Shin Hyo-jin’s efforts to keep the conversation going, but because their situations were so different, the conversation kept veering in a direction unintended by her.
“Isn’t it too inconvenient to take a taxi every time you have to travel?”
This time, Han Joo-young chimed in.
Song Hyun-soo found himself smiling rather than feeling offended by Han Joo-young’s imagination, which assumed he would naturally take taxis if he didn’t have a car.
“It’s a location shoot for
“I’ll let you know when I buy a car later. Please introduce me then.”
“You absolutely must tell me. He’s a really good dealer. He managed to get me an AMG model that was supposed to take six months to wait for in just one month! Otherwise, I would have been relying on taxis too.”
“Haha… Oppa, you’re really looking out for Hyun-soo.”
Shin Hyo-jin gave Han Joo-young’s shoulder a firm squeeze with an awkward laugh. It was a signal to stop. But Han Joo-young was incapable of picking up on the signal.
“When I first came to Korea, I had to start everything from scratch, so I wandered around and struggled a lot. I had to buy a new car because I left all mine behind, boutique sellers didn’t know my taste at all, I changed hair salons three or four times because I didn’t like them… I remember all that.”
Han Joo-young, who had left all his cars in America, not just one, and the hardships he had to endure to start from scratch in Korea. Song Hyun-soo felt like he was going to let out another hollow laugh. He kept drinking the wine, whose taste he couldn’t quite discern, to avoid laughing.
“Right. Hearing you talk, you must have gone through hell.”
Yoon Joo-ho muttered, as if to himself, but not quite. He emphasized the word ‘hell.’
This time, both Shin Hyo-jin and Song Hyun-soo couldn’t hold back and had to stifle their laughter, khh.
Just as Han Joo-young was about to leap up and attack Yoon Joo-ho, the appetizer was served. After that, a single bite of pasta, rolled up on a plate the size of a washbasin, was brought out. It was barely enough to whet the appetite. Ah, maybe he should have ordered meat for the main. Regret washed over him, but the meat dish was 50,000 won more expensive than the fish dish. It would be better to go home and make ramen. For 50,000 won, you could get a whole platter of sashimi.
The pasta plate was cleared, the wine was refilled, and the main course was served. As expected, the sea bass steak was insignificant. It was gone after a few bites with a fork.
As soon as Song Hyun-soo’s fish plate was placed on the table, Han Joo-young scowled.
“Oh my god, Hyun-soo! Who orders fish with red wine?”
It was an outcry, almost a scream. Song Hyun-soo was more taken aback than offended.
“Why? Is that not allowed?”
“You can’t eat fish steak with red wine; it’s too astringent.”
“I don’t know much about wine.”
“Even if you don’t know wine, that’s common sense, no, it’s not even at the level of common sense. I’ll have to order a glass of white wine for you to drink.”
Han Joo-young pressed the call button hidden under the table.
Han Joo-young’s carrot-and-stick approach, where he provided and then took care of you.
Song Hyun-soo, who had laughed off his words until now, thinking they were spoken by an innocent young master who knew nothing of the world, found it difficult to maintain his composure this time. He felt like a terrible criminal who had ordered fish steak with red wine.
Biting his lower lip, Song Hyun-soo unconsciously glanced at Yoon Joo-ho.
Yoon Joo-ho, who usually chimed in whenever Han Joo-young said something unintentionally annoying. He wondered if he would do so this time.
However, Yoon Joo-ho was quiet. He was even quieter than he had been moments before. He was just cutting meat and drinking wine, seemingly uninterested in the commotion around them.
The manager, with a pleasant smile, soon appeared, and Song Hyun-soo stopped Han Joo-young from ordering white wine.
“No, hyung. It’s okay.”
“Why? You can’t drink that with red?”
“Actually, I don’t really know the taste of wine. I’ll just order a beer.”
“Okay… Then.”
Was Yoon Joo-ho thinking the same thing?
He’s so clueless he doesn’t even have the common sense to order fish with red wine? How unsophisticated.
Yoon Joo-ho’s silence hurt more than Han Joo-young’s reprimand.
He didn’t even touch the fish steak he thought would be a mouthful, and downed one beer after another, each costing twelve thousand won.
Yoon Joo-ho left half his steak unfinished and put down his fork and knife. He elegantly dabbed his mouth with the napkin on his lap, then placed the napkin back in its spot and reached for his wine glass.
“What is everyone doing on the 10th of next month?”
“Ah, it’s your birthday, Senior?”
Shin Hyo-jin responded with a bright face, as if welcoming the new topic.
“Hyo-jin, you even remember Senior Yoon Joo-ho’s birthday?”
“Senior’s birthday parties are quite famous. They’re major events in the entertainment industry.”
“You flatter me.”
Yoon Joo-ho said, raising an eyebrow. He set down his own glass and picked up the wine bottle, filling the glasses of the two people opposite him in turn.
“This year, it’s going to be a simple affair. Stop by if you have time.”
“Getting invited to Joo-ho Sunbae’s birthday party makes me feel like I’ve really made it! Ah, what should I wear!”
Shin Hyo-jin was already excited, while Han Joo-young seemed unsure why it was such a big deal.
“Is it that big of a deal?”
“Is there anything particularly special about it? It’s just Yoon Joo-ho’s birthday party.”
He emphasized “just” as much as he had emphasized “dreadfully” earlier, raising his glass to propose a toast.
He casually draped an arm over Song Hyun-soo’s shoulder as the latter picked up his beer glass, grinning like a cartoon villain.
“You’re coming, right, junior?”
It was a false smile, clearly hiding something he was plotting.
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